Translation by Jessinthedungeons.
Chapter 4 ― Unfalling in Love
The letters began to arrive about two weeks after the press conference that announced Snape's return. It was not that I wasn't used to receiving threats, I was, I went through it in the fourth year, when Rita Skeeter published an article suggesting that I was playing with the feelings of both Victor Krum and Harry Potter. So, since my choice of profession displeased the already dissatisfied Wizards who lost their powers, I received at least twenty of them a month and was already accustomed to the content. But now they have a new kind of content. I waited another two weeks until I decided to do something about it.
― ... idiots. ― I looked at Minerva with raised eyebrows. ― They are all idiots. ― She muttered.
She raised her hand in the air, encouraging me to continue reading aloud the correspondence that had arrived the night before.
"It was obvious that you and the traitor were going to come together, both are scum who always wanted the supreme power that the Dark Lord possessed. If you want to live, I suggest you to be very careful, you will regret having stolen our magic."
Minerva sat in her chair, her nostrils practically spewing smoke from so much anger.
― For Godric, Hermione! I am sorry about that. ― She blinked a few times. ― Let's bring in one of the Aurors to come up with a strategy to track those letters. I am personally offended by these outrages.
― I'm sorry too, Minerva. I hate to bother you with this garbage, but I don't know if there is anything I should do, or if I should continue to ignore the messages.
She waved one hand at me, as she pointed with her wand at the old, magically modified phone that sat on her desk.
― Don't think twice, dear... Septima? Can you come up to my office? I am with Hermione and she is receiving more of those threatening letters, this time including Severus and I am not sure what is the best thing to be done.
A second later, phone pushed aside, Minerva raised her two thin lines of eyebrows at me.
― Septima will be here in a second. — She announced.
I nodded. ― Alright.
― How are the Potters? What about the children? ― Minerva gave me a reassuring smile and I immediately noticed her attempt to change the subject to a lighter topic.
― Everyone is fine. And the children are charming. ― A smile accompanied my response, reminding me of how special Ginny and Harry's children are to me.
― And you? Thinking of taking some time out to have some? ― The older witch asked me.
I looked at her. So I blinked, before staring at her a little more, too shocked to speak. What is this craziness? She stared at me seriously, before sketching a fun smile.
― I am kidding, dear. ― Minerva justified it.
― I really thought you were serious. ― I answered, slowly releasing all the air I had held.
Merlin! I really freaked out for a whole minute. I didn't have a date for a... A year? And I haven't had sex in...? A long, long time. Not that I didn't want to, because I wanted to, but it's complicated. Very complicated.
She snorted. ― I am just kidding, Hermione, you are still very young.
I was saved from this conversation when someone knocked on the door and Minerva invited to come in. Septima Vector peeked through the door.
― Hello, Hermione, Minerva.
The door slammed against the wall, and a second later, I saw the head that appeared above hers, and my stupid and traitorous heart remembered what it was like to be seventeen, as it skipped several unrestrained beats. My brain, apparently the only logical organ in my body, told all other organs to calm down and put on my adult woman pose. I took a deep breath to balance myself and managed to smile at the two people who entered the office and went to the chairs next to mine. I swallowed it dry before I spoke.
― Hello, Professor Vector, Professor Snape.
My cheeks warmed up. Damn it! Pull yourself together, woman!
― Hermione, ― Vector spoke as she took the seat next to mine, taking a look over her own shoulder at the man behind her. ― I asked professor Snape to come.
In the blink of an eye, at the same time as my bones froze, the long―haired wizard stared at me, albeit still in silence. I forced my knees, completely trembling, to rise and planted my feet solidly on the ground, pushing a surprisingly firm hand in the direction of the one he extended to me. I felt a shock go through my entire body as he squeezed my hand. A large, warm, masculine hand covered mine entirely, and I needed to fill my lungs with another firm breath to be able not to shudder at the rubbing of his skin on mine. He let it go quickly, which made my insides rebel in protest.
I sat back, practically collapsing on the chair, while trying to keep my dignity intact. I thanked Merlin when Vector started talking.
― Can you tell me more about the letters you've been receiving?
I looked at the woman next to me and waved my head positively. I summarized the letters I had received. Insults, aimed at me and the golden trio — even if the other two members no longer have magic; hateful warnings for me to return the magic that all muggle―borns stole; messages calling me a half―bloods' whore, including Snape; and a bunch of other crap that stressed me out a lot.
It was easy to see how much Vector was bothered by the contents of the letters when she nodded sharply.
― Okay. I already wrote it down.
― Do you still talk to those two stupids? ― I heard Snape's silky voice growl out the question.
It was the first time he had addressed me since he arrived back at Hogwarts and there was already an insult in his sentence? Pure cold hatred dulled my senses. Those two stupids? Who does he think he is to insult like that two of the people I love the most in life?
"Those two stupids" are the boys who hunted the horcruxes and killed the most dangerous dark wizard of recent times. Ron was the boy who lost a brother to war; the same boy who held me as I wept inconsolably because I condemned my parents to a life without me. And Harry... Harry was the boy who lost everything, who never had a family, who couldn't grow up in a healthy home, who was treated like trash by family members while pure―blooded Wizards lived their lives as if a lunatic, psychotic, noseless Wizard wasn't hunting other wizards just out of pure prejudice. Harry was the one who literally died for us to be free, and who, as payment, still lost his magical gifts. He was the same person who was now euphoric that this bastard called Snape was back in the magical world. The boy who survived is the person with the purest heart I know. And Ron, he may be a whining idiot, but the two were the ones who saved me from a mountain troll when they were both only eleven years old, and it was there, right on that night of halloween, that I made my choice. And I would choose them forever.
Indignation burned in my throat like a firewhiskey, and my face warmed with anger that I could not suppress. My lips were forming the letter "a" to enunciate "asshole", when I remembered Minerva warning us, weeks ago during our first meeting, that if she heard someone calling him anything other than "Professor Snape", they would be out of Hogwarts.
I looked away at Vector, who seemed oblivious to the heavy mood of the room, and furiously wrote something on her scroll. I desperately needed to calm down, or I would not answer for myself. My lips sealed and my nostrils widened.
― They are not stupid, they are my best friends. ― I answered with hatred exhaling in each one of my words. My left eye was starting to twitch.
From ten feet apart, he narrowed his black eyes towards me.
― What else would you call someone... —
My eye was at full speed twitching, and before I thought twice, I cut him off.
― This coming from someone who voluntarily became a Death Eater and went to serve a sadist, simply because a woman did not want him. How do you define yourself, then?
He narrowed his eyes even more, preparing to retaliate against me. And I know how ruthless and cruel Severus Snape can be. I felt it on my skin all my school life at Hogwarts. His voice was silky cold when he spoke again:
― Oh, Granger, it is lovely that you finally exposed the arrogance of your famous little trio. Tell me, what else do you, an insufferable know―it―all, know about my forays as a Death Eater?
― I can enumerate several, Snape, where do you want me to start? ― I hissed back.
― The stories about me are public, and I thank the leader of your little trio for that. How about we start with a story of yours? Tell me, Golden Girl, what was the feeling that made you hold a woman in a bottle, just for having annoyed you? It certainly seems to me a worthy story from one of the members of the Golden Trio. ― The baritone voice remained hard, unbeatable.
My throat clogs instantly and the spasms in my eyelid get even worse, when his words come out. I teased him and deserved his answer, had hinted that he was an imbecile, it was obvious that he would react by insulting me back. But compare my actions with his? I would never be as selfish as he was, I would never voluntarily choose to fight on the wrong side of that war. This insinuation was ridiculous. The latent hatred within me did not let me even think not to react. I was prepared to make him swallow his stupid words, when Vector let out a low laugh, one that had "weird" written all over it.
― I'm sure we can avoid this friendly animosity between the two of you, okay? ― She did not wait for an answer from any of us before turning to Minerva, who looked at us with disgust. ― I have an idea, and I don't see why it wouldn't work to calm things down a bit. Severus has also been receiving some similar correspondence, but we talked casually about it and thought things would calm down eventually. Now that we have confirmed that they will not, let's proceed like this: Hermione, we will release your part of the press conference that we had a few weeks ago.
It was like being hit by an avalanche. My jaw dropped and my heart stopped for a few seconds. Any hatred that was inside me was crushed by the cold fear that descended down my spine. I choked loudly and Minerva needed to offer me some water after my cough calmed down. Vector shot me a look of pity. She had been there and saw the fool I made of myself.
― I will make sure it is edited. We hired some muggle video makers who are experts. They will be coming to shoot some other snippets, and I'm sure they can capture some footage of you two getting along. ― She ended the explanation with a smile, as if she hadn't gushed out one of the worst ideas I've heard.
― Septima. ― Said Snape, his voice strangely calm. ― Considering how much we have just praised ourselves, this is a splendid idea. ― Irony dripping in his voice.
Minerva looked at him.
― Do you have a better idea, Severus? ― The tone of Minerva's voice carried a small warning.
― Many, although I doubt that any of the ways in which I imagine myself interacting with Miss Granger are appropriate. ― He growled.
― Then keep them for yourself. ― The headmistress snapped back with her authoritarian tone of one who would not accept discussions on the subject.
He stared at her with wrinkled eyebrows and compressed lips, in a way that suggested he was holding back anything he wanted to say, seconds later he began to stare at the wall, as if none of us were worthy of a single look of his. I was lost in my thoughts for a minute, looking at him, sitting 1.5 meters away. I bit my lip, discarding the curse words that gave a loop in my head, but I was too worried about Vector's idea of voluntarily exposing my fateful interview.
A shiver passed through my legs and rose to the length of my spine. I made a noise with my throat, catching the attention of my two professors.
― Professor Vector, that interview... ― I tried to gather words that did not make me sound arrogant, as Snape had just accused me, I just wanted to make her understand my reluctance. ― Maybe that's not the best idea, don't you think?
Minerva did not even try to silence her laughter.
― It is going to be alright, Hermione. We won't let them use any of the parts you are worried about. I promise. ― The headmistress answered me.
My silence represented just this: worry and distrust.
Vector reaffirmed what the Hogwarts headmistress said:
― I promise. It is going to be okay, trust me, Hermione. You're both being accused of a plot to steal the magic, so we will integrate images of you working as a team in search of the "cure" they long for. Problem solved for both.
I looked at Snape, but his eyes were still nailed to the wall behind Minerva. He was back to his icy impassivity of every day, though if the simmering fury he emanated could kill, it would leave everyone in that room reduced to ashes.
― All right. ― I answered, even with a huge part of my conscience calling me an idiot for not fighting harder.
The smile Vector gave me in response was wide and bright, and even at the apex of my own agony, I found myself smiling back at her. Idiot, idiot, idiot.
― Severus, do you agree too? ― Minerva asked.
Eventually he nodded. His face was still flashing a frown, but he didn't tell her anything, not even a sarcastic phrase, which I would bet my life on, he would have done years ago. I wasn't sure if I was disappointed or not.
― We will have it all sorted out quickly, Hermione. No need to worry. ― Vector added.
And that was a terrible phrase, for an anxious person like me.
I hadn't slept a whole hour when my phone rang. For a few seconds, I considered not answering. Because, really, who the hell would call almost at midnight in the middle of the week? It was common knowledge that I slept relatively early. My day was too crowded, with too many obligations, so that I did not risk sleeping after twenty―three o'clock on a working day.
Neville's name flashed across the screen and I narrowed my sleepy eyes. He hardly drank, so yes, it could be an emergency.
― Mione? ― Neville's voice sounded low.
The boy who grew up with me in the Gryffindor Tower remained my friend today. He is also one of the people I love the most, and I consider him a brother. Neville had plans to become a mediwizard when he finished Hogwarts, his wish being to research a revolutionary treatment that would cure his parents. He became depressed for a while when he lost his magic, which crushed his hopes. But I jumped on him and said that I would be in that hospital myself, that he could Research anything he wanted as my assistant, and that together, we would find a way. He believed in me, as he always believed in everything I taught him when we were students. Neville was a perfect assistant for my life of crazy schedules and field trips. I yawned before I could answer:
― Hey, Neville, what's up?
― Hermione! ― He whispered, sounding a little drunk, while the sounds of loud voices filled the background, making it very difficult to hear what he said.
― Hey, yeah, it's me. What's happening? ― My voice sounded worried.
Neville almost never got drunk. There were more background sounds, people laughing, and something that could have been glasses clinking together.
― I don't know what to do.
I immediately sat on the bed and threw my legs over the edge. Neville didn't know what to do? My instincts said he wasn't calling me to say anything about the hospital or the patients in our care.
― It's okay. Are you well? What do you need?
― Oh? Me? I'm okay. Sorry. I was really calling because... Wait a second, I'm going to the bathroom quickly ... ― suddenly the background noise was cut off completely and his voice became clear along the line. ― Hey, he is here.
Rubbing into my eyes with the palm of my hand, I yawned again.
― Who is where? ― I asked and then remembered something important. ― Shouldn't you be in bed? ― His duty was twelve hours, and began at 8 a.m.
― Tomorrow is that part―time break we are entitled to. ― He reminded me.
― Oh, right. ― I sighed tired. If he's okay, what does he want, calling me so late?
― I'm at The Hog's Head. I'm here to give Hannah some support. Look, Snape is here. Right here. Hannah intercepted him some time ago, but I think he is asleep. The bar was rented for a Muggle celebration so I think Hannah and I are the only ones here who know him. ― He took a deep breath, continuing. ― That sucks, Mione. Anyone else would take a picture of him to sell to the Daily Prophet, but that's a bit indecent. Isn't he the face of Hogwarts now? Imagine if someone recognizes him
I could imagine. And I cringed a little when I imagined an angry Vector, having to erase another scandal if it came out in some newspaper or magazine that our new advisor, who should be looking for a solution to the magical world, was passed out drunk in a bar. It would be a disaster.
― I thought you'd know what to do. ― Neville is finally done.
What a mess! A small part of me didn't want to get involved. Snape wasn't my friend and it wasn't like he had been particularly friendly or kind, anyway. But the point was that he was a member of Hogwarts, and that part of me was the one that struggled between being a bitch and saying he wasn't my problem, and the one that made me do the right thing. My parents raised me well, and would be horrified at me if I behaved as an idiot. I let out a small moan and got up with a sigh, already looking for a pair of pants.
― Is there any wizard that can apparate?
Please, Merlin! Please!
― Everyone is muggle here today, Mione. And tomorrow afternoon you have that surgery scheduled, save your reserves.
It was a kind way for Neville to tell me that I shouldn't apparate either, even if my magical level was sufficient. None of us knew for sure if our gifts were as limitless as they seemed, so we always spared our magical reserves when we had a big event the next day.
My event was a vital organ transplant surgery scheduled for tomorrow. The patient was infected with Dragon pox and all his internal organs were compromised. I would have to open it and heal it with magic, making each organ grow again, from the stem cells donated by the baby that he and the woman generated in the hope of this healing. Then I was to mature them to the present age of the patient, fifty―seven. It was a big "event".
I definitely shouldn't apparate. Pulling my pants up, holding my phone between my shoulder and my ear, I sighed.
― I'll be there in half an hour. — I told him.
I pushed my phone into my coat pocket with a tired, slightly frustrated sigh. I tried to talk to my two closest professors, but neither Vector nor Minerva answered my call. Yes, what did I expect? It was almost one in the morning, and apparently I was the only idiot who would leave her bed in the middle of the night.
The warm yellow lights inside the Hog's Head made me sigh again. What the hell was I doing? The man I had argued with hours ago was sitting there, drunk and possibly on the verge of playing an idiot, or even something worse would happen to him, if people realized who he was. Vector claimed that he also received the same threatening letters as me. It was obvious that if he was recognized, people would not help him. It wasn't how they worked, not in this crazy new world we lived in.
I could already predict all the hell that would come from this. Severus was a hero, but he was also still the man who killed Dumbledore, the reporter days ago made that clear. He would never lose that stigma. Which was totally unfair. So I had no choice but to help him. Shit!
I sighed, not thinking about the fact that I was in a gray sweatshirt and a stained old coat, which I had thrown over the baggy shirt that I normally sleep in. Neville should have kept an eye out of the bar, waiting for my car, because he was at the door as soon as I parked, waiting for me. In a t―shirt and jeans, he was the muggle version of the man I spent most of my afternoons with.
― Here. ― He said, waving at me towards a bookshelf in the back.
The figure perched on the table was unmistakable, at least to me. The thin black hair was the same as I had seen in person during the last few weeks. It was definitely Snape. The fact that he was in muggle clothes was a small blessing, I think.
― I'm sorry, Hermione. ― Said Neville over his shoulder.
― No, it's okay. You did the right thing by calling me.
Well, I still wasn't fully convinced that this was true, but if it was Cho calling me because I needed a ride after drinking too much, I would have answered her without thinking twice. Hell, if any of the other students felt desperate enough to call me asking for a ride, I would be there. We were a team. This is what you do when you are in one, after all, when you are in a group where people hold a grudge against each other, it is much more difficult to live together.
― Seriously, Neville, it's okay. ― I calmed him down.
I looked at Snape and tried to guess how much he weighed. If I could levitate him, it would be great, but the reality of the next day's surgery did not leave me that option.
I held his arm and hit the spot. Nothing. Then I squeezed his arm. Nothing.
― Hey, wake up. ― I said, shaking him a little more. Nothing yet. I looked at Neville for help. ― Help me carry him to the car.
Neville didn't even blink; he just shook his head. For a moment I wondered if the bill was paid or not, and then I decided that Snape could sort it out in the morning when he was sober.
― Ready? ― I asked, gathering my strength in my arms.
Neville and I dragged him from the seat and he reached the end of the bench. Squatting on the floor, I put his arm over my shoulders. Over his head, I watched Neville do the same thing. We weren't in the hospital, but we both always ended up dragging someone between us, impressive.
― Ready? ― I prepared to use more of the strength of my arms.
On the count of three, we raise him. Well, Neville and I got up, and Merlin! I was used to having patients to remove, but they were almost never a dead weight, and I was almost always using magic in the hospital. I sighed and heard Neville let out a slight grunt, but somehow we managed to turn around and slowly make our way towards the door. I ignored the people who were watching us with interested and disapproving expressions at the same time.
My car's passenger door was opened by Neville and we slowly put him in the seat, dropping him to the side. Good enough. I rubbed my eyebrow with the palm of my hand, closing the door with my hip at the same time.
― I tried to talk to Minerva, but she did not answer me, so I'm not sure if I should take him back to the castle, or take him somewhere else.
Neville gave me a look that said 'you who knows'.
― Will you stay with him? — He asked.
Stay with him? I looked at the back seat and shrugged.
― I don't know. Do you think I should? ― I asked in an uncertain tone.
Neville raised his shoulders as well, looking inside the car.
― If it was anyone else, I would say yes, but it's Snape. If it were you calling me to help him, I would pretend that the call dropped. After all, he is a grown man who should not get drunk. — He confessed.
I understood his point. Neville told me every day that he was not as good a person as I was, which I always vehemently disagreed with. But in this situation, I fully understood him, Neville and Snape had a past. Like Snape and I had too. The difference between us is that Snape and I have a "gift" now, so I can't afford to let him expose Hogwarts' training and research program.
― I'll decide along the way, I think. ― I replied.
― Do you need help?
I know Neville always comes to help Hannah when the bar has too much work. I can't ask him to go beyond what he's already done.
―Don't worry, Neville, I can take him somewhere.
― Will you call me if you need anything? ― He asked.
― I will. But I believe I won't. See you tomorrow, okay?
He smiled, taking a step back.
― Okay!
― Good night. ― I said goodbye to him before I got in my car, so I could see him going back inside the pub.
A single rough snoring in the back seat reminded me of the "preciousness" I had there. What the hell was I supposed to do with him? Take him to the castle? Like that? No, the walk was too long from the parking lot outside the gates to the dungeons… By the way, where the hell were Snape's quarters? I don't even know if he actually lived at Hogwarts.
Take him to my foothold at Hogsmeade? It didn't take me five seconds to decide it was a shitty idea. He was not my friend, it would be too strange for him to wake up on the couch of the apartment of the student he hated and who had argued with him just about twelve hours ago.
I thought for a few seconds until I decided to take him to one of the hotels in the muggle village that was fifteen minutes away from Hogsmeade. I drove through the dark streets and took another fifteen minutes to check-in.
I spent a few minutes patting him in the face in the hopes of reanimating him, which proved useless. I growled a cursing word before placing his arm along my shoulders and my own arm around his waist.
― Come on! ― I begged the unconscious man.
I almost died from having to carry all his weight, but by some miracle the room assigned to him was near the elevator. I let him slowly slide the entire length of the wall on my side to sit on the floor. I opened the door and kept it open with the back of my foot, and put my arms under his armpits to drag him across the room to the bed. Three difficult pushes later, I managed to put him to bed. I opened one of his eyelids to make sure his pupils were normal and checked his breathing. I watched him for thirty minutes, I sat on the chair next to the bed, my healing instincts screaming so that I would not leave him alone. I had seen patients too numb to be unaware of the risks of a person in this state, such as vomiting and choking on their own vomit.
But the idea of staying with him did not seem to be good. I didn't know how Snape would react in the morning, and frankly, a part of me didn't want to find out. Taking a deep breath, I looked for a notepad, usually provided in hotels, and began to write a note. I scribbled a message that was more than I expected, pulled out a few muggle pounds I had with me, and put the note and money on the nightstand next to it.
My hand was on the door handle when I looked back at the armchair.
With a resigned sigh I made my decision: I would not return to the Castle tonight. If I leave, I would be worried all night. Obviously, I only had one choice: stay in the hotel room for at least a few hours and then get out of there, before he knew I was there. My conscience said it was the right thing to do, but my guts told me to get out.
My conscience won.
Final Notes
Interactions! Finally, right? What did you think of these two?
And who liked that Hermione's assistant is Neville? A curiosity about me: I love Neville! He would never be left out of this story. Cheers!
Translation by Jessinthedungeons.
