Thank you for the kind reviews and the continued interest in this story! With the longer chapters, updates tend to be approximately every two weeks or so. It is taking longer than I originally expected for the plot to move forward, but I've had no complaints so far, so let me know. I'm picky, so I want to be able to believe the characters and the situations for myself, and that's taken some extra detail for me. Good news is that I have more written already, but I felt it made sense to break up this chapter for length and pacing reasons, so the next update should be sooner.
As always, constructive feedback is welcome!
- SnapeSage
Note: Ma certo = OK / Of course/ For sure (Italian)
Severus would be Severo in modern Italian, and I've invented the nicknames/diminutives Severino, Verino, and Vero based on typical Italian nicknaming rules. It's not really common enough of a name for me to know if I got that part right, so if any Italians have an issue with it, let me know.
Curiosity and Satisfaction Chapter 17
Politics in the Library
The Headmaster looked at her quizzically over his half-moon spectacles. "Anything else, Miss Perri?"
Hermione had just finished informing Dumbledore about her observations of Karkaroff over the last few weeks of classes and inter-castle run-ins.
From her estimate, Igor Karkaroff appeared invested in teaching, and spoke frequently of his own history of defeating dark creatures and harmful entities. There was the Firebird he had been blessed by, whose feather he had proudly shown in class; the Lesnik of the forest whom he referred to as "he himself", "the forest one", and even "the righteous woodsman", which made her look oddly at the man as more spiritually inclined than she realized; and the Azhdaya, some sort of mix between a dragon and a serpent and a chimera. Karkaroff mentioned many other creatures, but Hermione was able to confirm that he was merely using the translated words for creatures they had already heard of such as Vampire, Werewolf, Grindylow, and Pixie.
Upon further research, she discovered that the Firebird was indeed different from the Phoenix, as it did not die and rise again in ashes but was immortal. If Karkaroff truly possessed a Firebird feather, he could perhaps even create a Philosopher's Stone with it, as it was hypothesized that the feather could help create immortality. Though there was some idea of seriously bad luck said to accompany it, the texts in the library had mentioned, so Hermione was unsure as to whether the feather should be removed from his possession at all or it was better to let him have at it.
The Lesnik was also known as the Leshy, and was so reclusive that there was not a consensus as to whether it was a dark creature or not. Based on Karkaroff's awe-induced religious language, however, Hermione was inclined to think it should be categorized as deviant, at least. The Azhdaya was so dangerous that she was sure Karkaroff was making this one up. There is no way he would have survived an encounter with that particular creature.
Hermione told Dumbledore that Karkaroff was excited about teaching. He appeared all too excited to prepare them to encounter the same beings he had. "Be ready for the dark ones," he had said more than once with a gleaming grin. To sum up, there was nothing incriminating she had seen, but many things were suspicious.
She took a deep breath and answered Dumbledore's query. "Yes, I've made progress on my purpose for being here."
He made a 'hmmph' sound as he nodded. "Keeping an eye on Miss Evans…and Mr. Snape, then?"
Hermione met his eyes, narrowing hers, and merely gave him an unconvincing, cold smile.
"I see. You have no intention of telling me about that, do you?"
"No, sir."
"You will at least have to inform me of some things." Dumbledore said matter-of-factly.
"Such as?"
"Current events." He said simply. "I was already informed about the earlier incident with Mr. Snape by the lake, and I know that Miss Evans was present. I suppose you do not have anything to add?"
She kept her stance. He knew she didn't have anything to add, or he would have sent for her earlier. Witnesses were questioned by Heads of House, who must have reported to Dumbledore privately. "No, sir. I didn't see who the attacker was."
"Nor would you tell me if you knew." He said, showing no signs of disturbance.
"What do you mean by that?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "Why wouldn't I disclose the attacker?"
"I was under the impression that you were here to protect students from potential Death Eaters, including Severus Snape."
"Yes, but- but I didn't say I was going to have him killed! Or stand by and let him die! I'm- I'm here to avoid that kind of thing. Prevent it."
Dumbledore met her eyes. "And should it come to protecting Miss Evans or any others…at the cost of another's life? Can you do what must be done?"
Hermione snarled at him, not caring that he was in authority over her. "That sir, is none of your business." She said bitingly. "Who knows, perhaps you sent me back on purpose just so I would fail."
She stomped out of the office immediately after, determined not to meet with him again for a while.
October began with the perfect weather, and it was a shame that the first quidditch match was not until November. The temperature was warm and the wind was cool and gentle, so the outdoors was the place for all the students to be when classes were not in session. Hermione found herself sitting with the girls in the courtyard or on the grounds, or even in the Quidditch stands when Gryffindor or Ravenclaw were practicing.
Hermione did not watch much of the practices, but read while sitting in the stands with the other girls. Marlene would join them when Ravenclaw was practicing in order to silently view the rival team's strategy, just as Elpida did when it was Gryffindor on the pitch. Lily and Marina would giggle and watch the Gryffindors with rapt attention, and even Arabella showed up once or twice, as she had taken a liking to one of the chasers.
One evening, Arabella even helped Hermione fix her curls to be less frizzy and a bit softer. Arabella, as it turns out, did not have naturally curly hair. A few beauty spells and a lower-powered drying spell later, and Hermione had a fast and easy hair care routine. It was something she never would have bothered with before, but it's funny what spending time with girls more often did to one's perspective.
The rapport with the other girls had not ended, as she had feared. Even Lily had warmed to her, although Hermione had not had an opportunity to "meet" with Severus yet. At first, Hermione was a little hurt, fearing he had changed his mind. After observing him as subtly as possible, however, she ascertained that he was simply busy.
Severus Snape was the Slytherin keeper now, which kept him busy three or four nights a week with Quidditch training. He attended the odd Slug Club meeting, Hermione noted, and she was still invited as well (so Slughorn could save face, she suspected) but chose to attend sparingly to make it easier for the full-bellied professor to forget her.
Just about every other evening that remained, Hermione was able to account for him exactly. He was in the library, studying alone in a table by the far back. He would be escorted by no fewer than three Slytherins to the library, sometimes walking him all the way to the table before speaking to him briefly, sometimes even handing him something written on a piece of parchment. Severus would nod, and they would file out, smirking to each other. Then Severus would spend the rest of the evening there. Hermione even glanced over one night as she and Marina were packing up their things to see him slumped over onto an open book, being shaken awake by Madam Pince. He was scolded and told to go to bed before she took points from Slytherin. Severus scowled at her but slumped his shoulders and reluctantly gathered up his books to leave. Hermione met his eyes as he shoved his books into his bag. His grimace deepened and he swung his hair into his face, hiding from her in embarrassment.
Finally, the night came.
Marina and Lily had prefect and Head Girl duties to perform, and they left immediately from dinner, joining Calliope and the prefects from the other houses. Elpida walked with Hermione to the library, chatting happily about the early Ministry applications she had submitted. When they reached their regular table and were beginning to sit down, Hermione felt a brush against her arm before Severus's dark figure came into view. He plopped down in the seat across from hers and began putting his books on the table.
"Dalton," he said curtly without looking up from unloading his bag. "Perri."
Ellie and Hermione stood there, unsure what move to make.
"But- this-" Ellie sputtered. "This is our table, Snape. Don't you normally sit over there?" She gestured towards his more secluded table.
He looked up, now having spread his books out over the entire half of the table on his side. "Until the sun sets, I prefer not to sit there. The window faces west."
Sure enough, the table in the back was close to a window that was bathing it with early-evening sunlight. It was sure to give any occupant an uncomfortable glare as the sun set over the horizon.
Ellie looked slowly from Snape to Hermione, who was biting her lip, unsure of what to do. Oh, she had no problem with Snape sitting here, but did Ellie? Would she report back to Lily?erH
"You know," Ellie said slowly, as her blue eyes widened in thought, "I just remembered that I promised Trudy I would go over Charms work with her tonight. She prefers to study in the common room. You don't mind, do you Annie?"
"I…umm, no, I…"
"Splendid! I'll just be off then." Elpida grabbed her bag back up and started walking away.
"Wait!" Hermione dashed after her, leaving her bag at the table. "Ellie," she whispered, turning them so their backs were to Severus. They were a few paces away and shouldn't be heard if they kept their voices low enough. "I- you… you won't say anything about…"
"Annie," she said pointedly, raising her eyebrows. "Don't you want me to give you some alone time right now?"
Hermione frowned. "Won't Lily be cross?"
"Probably." Elpida nodded seriously. "That's why I wouldn't worry her about it."
Hermione grinned at her and Ellie smiled genially back. She turned and walked away a few more paces and Hermione frowned again, turned and followed her. "Wait, wait," she whispered again. "Why aren't you cross? You aren't a Death Eater sympathizer, are you?"
Ellie turned around, bug-eyed and mouth open in shocked consternation. "NO! Why would-"
"Shhh!" Hermione successfully shushed her and grabbed the taller girl's arm to pull her closer. "I just thought that's why she was disapproving about Snape…" She whispered.
"Yes, well that's what you're going to find out, right? If she even has anything to be worried about, I mean. I trust your judgment." Ellie tucked her dirty-blonde hair behind her ears after it had swung forward from her earlier outburst. "You aren't a Death Eater sympathizer either, Annie."
"No," Hermione agreed, smiling. "I'm not."
"It is alright if I call you Annie? You'll fit right in. We'll just start calling Marina Mari and then everyone will have an 'ee' ending to their name. Lily, Callie, Ellie, you know."
"Of course, you can. She'll be happy as long as she figures out how to make that into a band name for us."
The girls grinned at each other before separating. Hermione's heart started pattering as she saw Severus eyeing her from the table.
She sat down across from him and unpacked her bag. He looked back down at his work and quietly began to pick up his quill as Hermione settled herself. Just as she thought he wouldn't say anything about the girls' exchange, he spoke.
"Worried about sitting near me?" He drawled, not looking up from whatever he was writing.
"Oh no," she countered. "Just worried about getting in trouble for it. It'll be alright, she won't tattle."
He snorted, glancing up at her. "Who would she tattle to? McGonagall would congratulate you for peaceful inter-house relations."
"Not a teacher. I just didn't want the other girls to get on me again."
He answered in a sardonic voice. "You care too much about what your friends think."
"If only we could ignore how other people view us." Hermione said quietly.
Severus put down the quill and brought his head fully up to look at her.
"And it would be Lily she would tattle to," Hermione said calmly. "She told me you are a Death Eater, as evidenced by the company you keep. If I associate with you, I am either in mortal peril or I am a sympathizer with those who wish her dead."
"The company I keep," he sneered, "is out of necessity. I am a Slytherin, not a Gryffindor. I do not have the luxury of associating only with… saints. I cannot afford to act out of some self-important, misguided attempt at honour or justice."
"As I said. We cannot ignore how other people view us." She said matter-of-factly, returning to her Potions assignment.
After a few minutes of working in silence, he spoke again.
"I keep the company I do because of those who wish me dead." He said quietly.
Hermione looked up at him, expression open. One good point in her favor was that she had always been adept at showing active listening skills. Her eyes were focused, bright, and alert whenever she was interested in the conversation. Severus must have noticed this in the look she gave him, and he continued.
"There have been attempts on my life here at Hogwarts. I say attempts in the plural, and prior to this school year." Severus' eyes were narrowed, and his face was held in barely concealed anger. "The company I keep is entirely necessary."
"I understand," she said quietly. "If no one had been by the lake…"
"Yes," he said stiffly. "As I already said, I intend to repay the debt to you."
"No, I just mean…" She shook her head, curls bouncing, unbothered by him owing her anything. "If it's happened before, you've had back-up before. Or other help-"
"Luck, mostly." He said, losing the angry expression and looking contemplative, if stern. "I have been capable of defending myself for the most part or making it to safety before too much blood loss."
Hermione's eyes widened and her face took on a look between hurt and anger. She was not surprised, however. She had known about the incident in the Shrieking Shack for a few years, though the Marauders had been painted in a much better light in Harry's telling of it. James Potter had saved Snape's life after Sirius Black had… led him into a werewolf-laden trap.
Severus noticed her reaction. He appeared to be calmed further by her disturbance at the danger he faced simply by existing. "The… incident last month did spur me on to keep the company of my housemates more often."
"Well," she said, half-smiling at him and trying to grasp at any possible silver lining of Severus being hunted down on a regular basis. "I suppose it's good you have friends to confide in then." She was enheartened that he was confiding in her. Perhaps he would accept her friendship, if she could give it.
"Friends?" He frowned. "You mean the other Slytherins?"
"Yes, who were they again? Evan Rosier, John Avery-"
"Paul Wilkes and Milton Mulciber as well, but no, they aren't friends. Hardly even acquaintances, really. Rosier is an alright sort, but the rest..." He grimaced in dislike. "No, they simply have an eye for a mutually-beneficial arrangement, just as I do."
Hermione frowned now. "What, they escort you here, act as your protection and you…?" She trailed off, waiting for him to enlighten her.
He was silent, and she could see that he didn't fully trust her yet.
Hermione had seen him here for hours on end every free night he had, falling asleep in his chair frequently. She suspected he might have found a way to stay in the library after curfew as well, when she noticed he hadn't left one night, not emerging from the stacks when the clock chimed the warning bell. The stacks in question put him out of view of Madam Pince and he could have remained behind if he had tried.
She took a stab at it.
"… and you do their work for them. They don't have to lift a finger for class if they don't wish to." She said quietly.
Snape said nothing, merely meeting her eyes with a dark look, waiting for her to act offended, outraged, or jump up and distance herself from him at the least.
"There is no way…" she continued quietly, and his hands tightened into fists on the table as he stared her down. "… that you're keeping up with it."
There was a long silence before he spoke. "Pardon?"
"You couldn't possibly be doing the work for four other students as well as yourself," she said matter-of-factly. "You have Quidditch practice, and you do the Slug Club meetings as well." She wrinkled her nose in thought, trying to figure out the logic problem. "I mean, even if you don't sleep, there aren't enough hours in the day to get it all done." She would know, she had used a time-turner for the precise purpose of finding time to do extra schoolwork before.
"It's… I…" Even Severus Snape appeared flustered at her lack of a reaction. He swallowed slowly, but only took a brief moment more before recovering. "They rotate duties and assignments. I am only completing an extra assignment per day."
"Each?" She clarified.
He gave a slight nod. "Each. It is hardly undoable."
"Still, four extra assignments a day…" He must be barely keeping up, she thought. "How are you managing?"
Severus said nothing. She was about to get worried about him maybe stowing a Time-Turner away and putting an even larger age difference between the two of them when he spoke.
"I shall give up extra-curriculars if need be." His lips were tightly drawn, and teeth gritted. He must have just been losing sleep so far, then. Or failing to complete his own assignments.
Hermione figured that he probably did not want to give up Quidditch or even Slughorn's gatherings since they helped ingratiate him with powerful figures. He would do it, however, if it meant keeping his personal protection squad.
Hermione cocked her head slightly, bit her lip and narrowed her eyes in thought.
Severus looked back at her. He no longer appeared angry or guarded, but simply curious. Her reaction had been unexpected thus far.
"Well." Hermione abruptly straightened, having finished her line of thinking. She stretched her palm out and up towards him and beckoned at him with her fingers. "Hand it over."
"Hand what over?"
"The extra assignment. At least one of them, maybe we could each do two to make it even."
Severus looked askance at her, as if she were certifiable. "I think not."
"Why?" She raised her eyebrows and grinned cheekily at him. "Do you enjoy staying up late and writing the same essay four- no, five different ways? Come on, Snape, give it here."
"No."
Hermione smirked playfully at him. "Don't tell me you're acting out of some…self-important, misguided attempt at honour or justice."
He growled at her, which only sent a slight thrill through her, rather than dissuade her.
"I don't understand why you won't take my help," She pressed on.
"I don't understand why a goody Gryffindor would help us cheat." His tone was acerbic, but his face held little malice.
"Because…" she sighed. "I've done work for friends before. Not here, but back home. And not even for such a good reason as you have, I was just tired of their whinging and wanted them to have free time to spend with me."
Hermione felt herself drifting away in self-reflection as she spoke, revealing truth to herself as much as to Severus. "I suppose I knew it was something I was good at that would make me useful to them… just… just to be sure…" She trailed off.
"Just to be sure they would keep you around." Severus finished quietly.
"Yes," she whispered, brows furrowed. She had just realized this was an issue as she said it.
Hermione had never felt completely accepted by Harry and Ron, always needing to earn her way into friendship, especially since they had thought she was 'a nightmare' in their first year. Ron had almost trained her in a Pavlovian manner, saying, "you're the best, Hermione", "you're the most wonderful person", and even "I love you" once, after she agreed to do part of his work. She had been trained that she had to put in the effort to receive praise and affection.
"I understand completely," he said in a low tone, leaning forward to her across the table. "Being useful… being needed… it is vital."
Her eyes met his, and the spark they both knew was there flickered between them.
I need you, she thought traitorously.
Her heart caught in her chest as she found herself wishing, no, longing for a physical connection with him. She had kissed him before, held him before, tried to seduce him and been seduced by him before…
But that was a different Severus, an older Severus. Perhaps a Severus that would only exist in some much-altered timeline. Hermione swallowed away the thought of putting her hands through his raven hair and snogging him.
Remember, he's a Death Eater.
"Is that why you have the… politics you do?" Hermione asked him in a hushed tone. "To be needed?"
Severus stiffened visibly, shifting away from her. He leaned back toward his side of the table, his face a neutral blank.
Dragon shite, she thought. I've pushed him too far.
There would be no more revelations tonight. She would have to settle with the parchment he handed her next.
"History of Magic essay on the fourth goblin rebellion. Make sure it's written at an A level."
Hermione nodded in agreement. When he put his head down to go back to his writing, she smiled to herself.
Over the next few days, Hermione and Severus were unable to steal a free night in the library. Slytherin Quidditch practice was one night, as well as a Slug Club meeting another night. Then, a third night there was a torrential downpour, there was no Gryffindor or Ravenclaw Quidditch practice, and all the library girls were at their usual table.
Hermione had been unable to sit with Severus that night, but she had gone straight up to him in full view of the other girls. She explained as she sat back down that she had only wanted the Arithmancy homework assignment from him. They appeared to accept this explanation, sans Ellie who hid a smile behind her Charms book.
Truthfully, Hermione had gotten instructions from Severus, but not for Arithmancy. She would be spending that evening writing both her own and Avery's Transfiguration essay on the difference between the animal and the human soul and their synergy in the Animagus form. Snape told her to shoot for an E grade, so she needn't be too thorough.
Calliope pulled her aside as the girls exited the library, waiting until the others had walked on ahead. "I also had the Arithmancy assignment, did you forget?"
"Oh, umm.. that's right Callie-"
"Does he fancy you back then?" Callie said, getting straight to the point. She was a bit awkward when it came to the social things, Hermione thought.
"I… well… I don't…" She grew frustrated with herself for stammering and blushing immediately.
"It could be useful, you know." The dark-haired girl pushed her large glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Don't worry, I won't say anything to Lily. I think she is overlooking the fact that you could get information from him if you needed to."
"What would I need to do that for?" Hermione asked, eyes narrowed.
"If it's true about him being a Death Eater," Callie said, matter-of-factly. "It'd be nice to know everything we could, wouldn't it?"
She quickly turned and walked away, leaving Hermione biting her lip in thought.
XXX
That weekend was a Vendor Weekend, she had found out from signs posted in the common room.
"What's Vendor Weekend?" Hermione asked the girls at breakfast on Friday.
"Hogsmeade is the local Wizarding village," Lily said. "Vendor Weekend is to replace Hogsmeade Weekend, when we could all take a trip there for the day. We used to have them, but we don't anymore."
"We can't go to Hogsmeade anymore since the attacks have gotten more frequent. We haven't had a Hogsmeade weekend since fifth year," Marina chimed in. "I mean, I get that You-Know-Who could try to attack Hogwarts students, but he'd be kind of stupid to do so and risk hurting any Slytherins."
"As if it's only Slytherins that like him, sis." Marlene said, noticing what they were talking about. "One of those new transfers was telling me all about how You-Know-Who is revolutionizing the Wizarding World and it's only slander that he's behind the Muggle attacks. According to Ivan Dumitru, You-Know-Who only stages political protests that end up turning violent when the MLE and aurors arrive. He seems to think that the Death Eaters are part of a rebellious movement to take back magic from the influence and control of Muggles."
"That's absurd!" Lily said, mouth agape. "What, so we're to believe Mr. Megalomaniac himself is only interested in social change or something? Leave it to Soviets to be so blasé about the rise of a dictatorship."
Hermione grinned at her. She and Lily really did see eye to eye about some of these things.
"Anyway, Vendor Weekend?"
"Oh, you'll love it Anna," Arabella said from her left. "The Hogsmeade shops send someone with a cart or a booth to set up in the courtyard. It's not quite as good as going to Hogsmeade, but Madam Rosmerta sends a few barrels of butterbeer and the first mug is usually free."
"I look forward to it," Hermione said, beaming.
True to the other girls' word, Vendor's Weekend was delightful, if not quite as good as a Hogsmeade Weekend.
On Saturday, there were booths and carts for every shop in Hogsmeade that Hermione could remember, all lining the outer edges of the courtyard so the students could visit each shop's wares in a circular loop. There was a cart for Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop that Callie bought some Communication Quills from, a Honeydukes cart at which Marina ("No, no, remember call me Mari now!") spent all her money, a Zonko's booth that Sirius and James were crowded around for a long while, and even a small cart for Tomes and Scrolls, at which one could order books to be owled to the school.
Madam Rosmerta had indeed provided a few barrels of butterbeer, and the first mug was free as long as the student could answer a question appropriate to year level. Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick oversaw the questioning, which they appeared to enjoy more than necessary. This led to some groans and fishing into robe pockets to pull out coins, but the students were good sports and they cheered each other on to get the free mugs.
Hermione wondered why they hadn't merely instituted one of these again in her sixth year, since all Hogsmeade Weekends had been cancelled after Katie Bell's possession. There was even a Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop Cart, but all the pots and fragrant tea scents hadn't truly been the appeal of the place as much as the… romantic atmosphere. Hermione's eyes couldn't help but seek out Snape in the crowd, making his way over to the Scrivenshaft's cart after perusing the J. Pippin's Potions booth. She would have tea with him some day, she vowed, but not necessarily at Madam Puddifoot's. The thought of Severus Snape in that place made her giggle hysterically.
After a long week of classes, she was glad to have a break from the extra work, as Snape would be able to play catch up over the weekend on his extra assignments. Hermione had spent the last few days sending and receiving assignments back and forth, but that Saturday night she found herself alone with Severus again. Perhaps Elpida had also figured out Snape's schedule, for she had made herself scarce after dinner unprompted.
"Perri." He greeted her with a nod as he sat down across from her at the library table.
"Snape." She said cordially, trying to hold back a beaming smile and failing. She felt her face redden and blush, so she ducked her head down momentarily to compose herself.
When she looked up, she found he was staring at her appraisingly. His books were out on the table, but unopened.
"You… you wanted…" he began, looking hesitant. "If you are amenable to discussing politics now, I have some time."
She had proved her loyalty by helping with the assignments, apparently. She doubted he would have discussed this with her if he doubted her ability to keep it quiet.
Hermione's smile fell slowly, her features straightening into a serious look. "Alright," she said, closing her own book.
They sat in silence for a moment, unsure who should start.
"I- sorry. Should- should I go first? Okay umm, I suppose… I suppose I'll just come out and say it. Are you a Death Eater?" Hermione asked the question the same way you might ask any question that you expected to receive a disappointing answer to. Is she very ill? Is there no other time it could be rescheduled? Are you actually the member of a sadistic magical death cult?
"No," He said levelly. Hermione gazed into his dark eyes, and she believed he wouldn't lie to her.
"But… but your friends- I mean, I mean the other Slytherins… they are? Are they Death Eaters?"
"I do not know." Severus said again, in a bored tone.
"If you had to hazard a guess?" She said, raising an eyebrow.
"If I were to guess… No. I do not believe they are."
Hermione frowned at him and crossed her hands over her chest. "Yet. Is that the word I'm missing? Yet? None of you are Death Eaters yet?"
Severus said nothing, but he made his familiar grimace with a much more noticeable uptick on the side of his mouth.
I'll take that as a yes, she thought grimly.
"Okay… why?"
"Why?" He said, surprised again at her lack of reaction, or that she was even waiting for an explanation.
"Yes, why? I grew up in the Muggle world, you know, my Dad's a Muggle. I don't understand the prejudice toward Muggles and Muggle-borns." She tucked a curl behind her ear, determined to keep the conversation neutral in tone.
My Mum's a muggle too, but I can't tell him that, Hermione thought.
"I am a Half-blood as well," he told her somberly. "I cannot know your situation, but my upbringing has certainly helped me to see the… inherent differences in Wizarding and Muggle ideology."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Muggles try to change Wizards and Witches. They always have and they always will, it is a statement of fact. Muggle-borns naturally bring some of that perspective when they arrive, as they have spent the first decade of life unaware of magic."
"What, so you're saying that Muggle-borns don't deserve to be here? Or is it worse? They deserve to die?" Hermione said, growing heated despite her determination to stay unaffected.
"No!" He growled a little loudly. He heard some hushes around him and lowered his voice and leaned forward. "No, that isn't what I'm saying. Are you willing to listen or aren't you?"
Hermione shut her mouth quickly and gestured for him to continue.
"Muggle-borns simply bring a spirit of change along with them. They are always thinking in terms of comparison between the Wizarding World and the Muggle. It is not that they don't belong or don't deserve to be here- they have magic, after all. No, it is simply that… more work needs to be done on integrating them. Too often there is the thought that in order to accept and welcome the Muggle-borns, long-held Wizarding traditions need to be disregarded or forgotten."
Hermione bit her lip and remembered what the older Severus had told her about theomagical religious traditions. It was a subject completely ignored in her own education, and perhaps would be forgotten in future generations if it continued to be ignored.
Severus continued in a low tone. "I am of the belief that Muggle-borns should be told of their magic earlier and should be helped along into the Wizarding World at a much younger age. It is not the fault of Muggle-borns that they desire to change the ancient ways of magic, but of the Muggle family members who would hold them back because of fear, hatred, or jealousy." Severus clenched his jaw, clearly thinking of something in particular.
"I was raised in the Muggle world," Hermione said quietly. She met his dark eyes fiercely with her own brown ones. "Do you think I have this desire to change the Wizarding World into a more Muggle one?" It was impossible to keep a bit of hurt and accusation out of her question.
Severus stared back at her, not relenting either. "I shall speak of myself first to give an example. My father was a Muggle, my mother a Witch. I, if anyone, know the struggles and the difficulties of growing up a stranger to each world."
Severus' eyes shone, boring into her own as he continued. "My mother taught me some spells when I was younger, but she hardly ever used her wand herself. She began to forget magic, forget who she was."
His voice took on a strained quality, but he strove on. "She- she allowed the Muggle world to change her, to break her… and…and My father… He…" Severus paused then.
His eyes took on a sadness as they continued to meet Hermione's eyes. She finally realized that his departure from a flirtatious manner with her was not because he trusted her less now, but because he had come to trust her more.
Slowly, she reached her hand across the table and placed it atop of his.
"I'm listening," she whispered.
"They're dead." He said flatly. "She's dead."
Hermione grasped his hand tightly, as her mouth fell open in surprise, forming a small 'o'. He had jerked as if to pull his hand away, but she was still grasping it.
Severus swung his hair forward to hide his face from her. He didn't seem to know whether to take comfort from her or to refuse it on principle.
"She died this year," he mumbled through his hair. "I found her when I went home for Easter holidays." Hermione had started rubbing her thumb gently against his hand in a soothing motion. If they hadn't been in the library, she would have come around to hold him.
Scratch that, if he hadn't seemed so reluctant to receive her touch, she would have done it anyway.
"I'm listening," she whispered again.
He took this as permission to keep going and she heard a few sniffs from behind the black curtain of hair. "I don't know how long she'd been there, at least a few days."
Hermione's heart ached as she squeezed his hand. What a horrible thing to see.
"I went to find my father first and… and I…"
"Did… did he…?" Hermione's eyes widened, not sure she could ask Severus that question politely. Was it murder?
"I don't know! He very well could have!" She heard a few more sniffs and saw Severus straighten and brush his free hand over his face, still hiding behind his hair. "It took me a few days to find him. Of course, the lucky bastard was in hospital with liver failure when I did. He died a few days later, saving me the trouble."
"The trouble?"
He shook his hair, revealing his face to her. "The trouble of striking him down myself." His face held a fierce expression, as if he were steeling himself before battle. Severus' low, dark tone brokered no argument, and Hermione almost shuddered.
This was the Death Eater Severus Snape who would not be crossed.
Severus glared at her and shook off her hand, the emotional turmoil having passed.
"Muggles want to change Wizards, control us, restrict our magic, break us down until we are normal just like they are. We are freaks of nature to them, and they hate us for it, just as my father hated my mother and me." He said bitterly. "aYet still, she capitulated and tried to change, just as we Wizards try to adapt ourselves to be more Muggle and Muggle-born friendly. We must defend ourselves and our culture, not capitulate to the waves of change."
Hermione was at a loss, not knowing how to argue this. There was no argument to his experience. She could not fault his reaction to what he had been dealt, could she?
"And… and what of Muggle-borns and Muggles?" She whispered.
"What of them? Those… those Muggle-borns who are willing to adapt and accept Wizarding life as it is… they are and should be welcome. Others… it may sound harsh, but they should be barred from entry."
"How? You would refuse magic, a magical life, to those who don't follow a certain- a certain way of acting? Certain beliefs about the world?"
"Not to sound overly reactionary, Perri, but there's more to it than just live and let live." He scowled. "The Minister of Magic apparently reports to the Muggle Prime Minister and keeps him apprised of Wizarding events! Why should we have Muggle involvement? Pureblood Wizarding customs are being looked down on as outdated and old-fashioned- to be erased! When these families have had magic in their veins for centuries!" He was growing heated, and he took a breath to keep himself quiet.
"Plus," he said, lowering his voice and leaning in again, "it is not I who is suggesting to refuse anyone or control anything. The Ministry talks every few years about initiating a Marriage Law that would bind Purebloods to Muggle-borns just to… just to diversify the population! Enslave witches into marriage simply to give us all a better chance against the Muggles in the future! I have seen how powerful a marriage can be to suck the very life and magic out of a person, and- and no. This suggestion is barbaric. It is being floated merely to capitulate to the Muggle-borns' cries of inequality; of not having a magical bloodline with deep-seated community ties. Rather, they will break the Wizarding World into pieces just so they can fit in more comfortably."
"That's not fair!" Hermione hissed at him. "It's not fair to say that all Muggle-borns think that way, that they all want to change our society and make it more… Muggle. Are equality and justice only Muggle qualities? No! They are human qualities. It sounds like you want to make changes yourself, at any rate, so it can't be that all change is bad or done out of some hatred or fear of magic."
Severus' eyes darkened and he appeared pleased at her pushback. She realized that he must be accustomed to people treating him as either inferior or to be feared, but by arguing with him she proved she thought he was neither.
"You were raised in the Muggle world yourself, so you must understand my point to some extent." He drawled. "Let me ask you this: would you ever marry a Muggle?"
Hermione frowned, a bit taken aback at the question. She flushed a little bit as she realized she couldn't tell him her honest answer. The man I love… he is not a muggle.
"I… I don't think I would," she admitted, never having thought about it before. "Simply because I can't see that we would have enough in common. Magic is such a big part of my life… It's such a large part of me. I wouldn't fault anyone else who chose to marry a Muggle, but… I just can't see myself doing so."
Severus nodded, eyes still dark. Hermione flushed a little deeper as she remembered their earlier flirting over marriage.
"That is the thing," he said. "You make a choice when you marry to bind yourself to who and what the other person is. To marry a Muggle is to bind yourself to the Muggle world, as the Muggle can never come the other way; they can never become magical. Even a Squib is not the same as a Muggle, for they at least understand our way of life, our way of thinking. There is a choice that must be made between the Muggle and the Magical. There is always a choice, and it must be magic that we choose."
"I agree with you there," she said. "There is always a choice. Will you choose the Death Eaters, Snape?"
His eyes widened slightly in surprise, clearly not expecting her to go that far in her inquiry.
"I… have made no promises." Based on her guess, this was as close to a lie as he would go. Perhaps not outright, she thought. But I bet there are expectations.
"Well. I promise you if you do choose them, you'll regret it." She glared.
"Why is that?" He glared back at her, but still kept the dark and fiery look in his eyes.
"Because they're sadistic, dark-arts-loving scumbags, that's why." She said matter-of-factly, raising a brow at him.
Severus smirked lightly at her, an expression that felt animalistic. "Must all those who appreciate the dark arts be sadistic scumbags?"
"I wouldn't know. They are called dark arts for a reason."
"Darkness does not mean evil. It may be used for such purposes and..." He sneered. "…that explains the differences between myself and some of the others you may see me with. I have no ill intent apart from knowledge of the darkness, the mystery, the call of the unknown. Must that be sadistic?"
Severus continued to smirk, noticing that her flush had returned.
Hermione hated that Severus seemed almost to read her mind.
Severus was darkness, mystery, the call of the unknown.
Severus was her dark arts.
Quickly, she inhaled and checked her Occlumency levels, noting that they were appropriately shielding the most secretive information. Unfortunately, Anna Perri's attraction to Severus Snape was… easily accessible knowledge. Who knows if he had mastered Legilimency yet.
"Here," Snape stood up from the table. "Let me show you something."
Hermione stood and followed him to a section in the stacks labelled 'Potions'. He knelt down on the ground, looking for a book on the bottom shelf.
"Ah," he said, having found it. He pulled it out and handed it to her.
Moste Potente Potions by Phineas Bourne.
Well, that's ironic, she thought. In my time, this was in the restricted section.
Hermione looked up at him, waiting for his explanation.
"That has advanced potions that are necessary to know for a Mastery," he said quietly. "Many can be used for unsavory purposes. Polyjuice potion, certain slow-acting venoms and their antidotes… Go on, open it up. Take a look."
Hermione's heart was pounding as she flipped through the familiar book. Yes, she had ignored the more gruesome potions and their ingredients before when she had made use of it for the page on Polyjuice Potion. Some of these had brewing processes that were quite… unsavory was a good word.
She flipped through more pages and her heart stopped.
"Sanguine Virginis," she said.
"Yes, that's a good example of a potion made through the dark arts. How much darker can you get than using Virgin's Blood?" He smirked at her. "But you see, it can be used in the antidote to powerful slow-acting venoms, even venoms from dragons and deadly serpents. So, do the healing properties outweigh the price of… extracting the ingredient? Who is to say? The darkness of the art is all about intent. We are all grey wizards, more than we think."
Hermione nodded numbly, not sure how to think or feel about this all. She hadn't had the odd sensation in which she felt that this conversation had been meant to happen, as if it had already happened before. But it had to be, right? It was too much a coincidence otherwise. It was almost as if it was easier to believe in this strange element of fate than not to.
She knelt and returned the book to the bottom shelf. As she straightened, she felt that Severus was a step closer to her than he had been before.
"Perri… I…" He swallowed, and she noticed his hands were twitching at his sides. After all they had just talked about, it was a wonder he looked nervous about anything. "Are you… Have you…"
Hermione bit her lip, not knowing what he would say. She wasn't sure she was in the mood to flirt right now. It had been a lot to take in.
"What is that?" Severus' eyes narrowed and he pointed at her shirt.
She looked down. Dragon shite.
The sapphire pendant hung down above her clothes, having come out when Hermione had bent down and risen again to put the book away.
"It's… it's from my mum," she said quietly. Severus raised his eyebrows at her and gestured to the necklace. She nodded, and he reached out and gingerly touched it, pulling it upward and examining it. This small motion sent her heart racing even faster.
"There's an H on it," he said in a low tone. It was funny how fast the mood could shift, for Hermione felt differently about flirting already.
"It's for my mum… and for me," she said quietly. "My mum's name is Helen."
"Interesting," he murmured. "My mother's was as well."
"Helen?" she whispered.
"Well, a variation of Helen." He said, still fingering the pendant around her neck. They were as close as they could be without touching.
"And for you?" He said quietly. "I thought your name was Anna."
She couldn't lie to him about this. Not about her name. At least, she couldn't bear for him to call her Anna when he could be calling her…
"Hermione," she whispered, knowing this was a mistake but saying it anyway. "Anna Hermione Perri. Actually, I only started going by Anna here. Before now, I've always been Hermione."
"A mask," he said quietly. "I understand."
"Do you?"
"Yes." He said simply, still fingering the dark sapphire. "I am a Slytherin in favor, on the Quidditch team, financed by Lucius Malfoy, close friends with Avery, Mulciber, Rosier, and now Wilkes." Severus gave a smirk that didn't reach his eyes, coming out as a sad half-smile. "Not buying my way into friendship and protection, not an orphan ward of the school until the Muggle authorities are satisfied that I've turned 18."
Slowly, he returned the pendant to rest above her shirt.
"May I… May I call you Hermione?" He said quietly, meeting her eyes.
"Only… only when we're- when no one else can hear," she whispered back at him, caught in the swirling dark water of his irises. "I've told everyone else to call me Anna."
"Of course." He smiled at her, but the smile seemed a bit fragile. "And you may call me Severus when none can hear. If that is too much of a mouthful, then…" His smile crumbled hesitantly. "…Severo… Vero…" He mumbled the last bit and pushed against the shelf to pull away from her. Before he turned away completely, she grabbed his hand.
"Ma certo," She whispered. "Vero."
He squeezed her hand once and released it before stalking away.
Hermione rested herself against the stacks for a moment and tried to make a mental list of all the reasons this was beyond stupid.
I don't care, she thought. I honestly don't care.