Translation by Jessinthedungeons.
Chapter 7 - The Inside Out of my desire
— Does anyone have another question?
You could take a bite out of the tension in the Great Hall. No one, except Justin, had said a word in the last two hours. We just sat there, listening to Minerva go over details about the latest research of black magic activities that the researchers at Durmstrang sent us. Each of us, sitting around the old tables of the houses, simply listened and nodded. Spending so much time listening to others talk, instead of training or cooking potions, is boring and painful enough, to get involved in that discussion then, would be even worse. But the real one to be blamed for the strange and apathetic behavior of the team is the man in black robes, our co-advisor who is standing in the corner of the room, next to the enchanted screen where the research was being projected.
When no one else answered Minerva's question, I shook my head and answered.
― No.
A frown marked the crease between the director's eyebrows as she looked around the room, waiting for someone to say something. But the words never came, and I could tell from the way her cheeks tightened that she didn't understand the apathy of the team over the past week.
In fact, no one exactly lacked confidence. We all keep training, researching, cooking potions, and showing our magical abilities to Ministry examiners. Everything was normal. Except we were quiet about what bothered us. And, if someone had a problem, we usually had no reservations about expressing it. But this time, the main problem had two arms and legs and held certain "power" to screw with us, so no one was going to say anything.
— No one? — Minerva asked again, in disbelief. No answer. ― Alright If no one has anything to say, I think you're free to go. We can meet here tomorrow at eight, everyone here in the hall and then we will go to the Quidditch pitch together. — She announced by giving a collective nod before the team stood up.
I spent a few minutes talking to Dean, and had only just picked up my stuff when I heard her.
— Hermione, do you have time to come to my office?
My gut told me I knew exactly what kind of conversation I was about to have with her. I had seen Minerva's face and my inner self was well aware that she knew something was going on. Unfortunately, I also knew that I would be the first, and more than likely the only, to whom she would come with her questions. It was the Curse of being her damned "Gryffindor's apple of the eye" when I was a simple student here.
― Of course. ― I told her, even if the last thing I wanted to do was talk about it.
She smiled at me and called me forward.
— Come on, then.
I threw my bag over my shoulder, and followed her. Within a few minutes, we were climbing the spiral staircase and went to her office. Minerva took a seat behind her desk with a friendly smile on her face.
― You know that I will get down to business with you, so tell me what's going on. — She uttered.
Then… Where exactly do I start? Not that I wanted to bring trouble to anyone, let alone with my own dilemma of not looking like a snitch. I slid into the chair with my bag at my feet, raised my eyebrows and immediately decided to play dumb for as long as possible.
— With us?
— All of you. The whole team. What's happening? — Minerva reinforced the question.
— I have no idea what you're talking about, Minerva.
— Hermione. ― She winked, showing me with this that she already knew that I was playing an idiot. — Everyone's acting weird. No one talks, I don't see anyone throwing conversation away as usual. Looks like this is the first time you've all been together here. You are not mere students, Hermione, we are all working on a consensus in search of a solution, we are a team. So, I want to understand what is happening, that's all.
When I thought about it, I realized it shouldn't be surprising that she noticed the differences. Of course she would, Minerva cared. I'm being hypocritical that I think it's bad that she called me into this conversation. I can't complain about Minerva caring when I complained about Snape not doing it. Then I need to accept the fact that she is still around us and noticed our change.
While the workouts were usually quite serious, there had always been a playful aspect between us. We got along really well most of the time and I think that's why we worked so well together. No one was a superstar or had an inflated ego. We are a unit. Of course that doesn't mean they don't have friction and disagreements from time to time, but that's just the way it is, when working as a team. And now, we have one problem in common: Snape.
If even Dean had opened his mouth that day in the stands to complain about him not being active, then there was obviously a problem. I don't think Dean had ever thought of complaining to Minerva about Snape, even though I saw him nodding in disbelief at seeing the co-advisor walk around us in silence. Besides, there was all my shit with him.
— Tell me what to do. — Minerva asked, seriously. — I trust your word and I need to know where to start.
The fact that she said she trusted me was my death. I decided to give in and bowed my head in surrender.
― Well. — I cleared my throat before continuing. ― What exactly can I say that will not leave me in trouble?
— What? — She asked confused.
— What can get me in trouble? I mean, you know that someone it can make my training difficult, only to purposefully push my results down and lower my magic level. — I told her carefully.
As soon as she realized who I was talking about, the look she gave me was incredulous. Minerva looked at me as if I had spat in her face.
— Severus is involved? — Given the fact that she had not said anything about what would get me in trouble, I gave her a nod. — You're kidding me... — I shrugged. — Explain it to me. And you can leave out your problem with him. Severus' resentment of a member of the golden trio would not hit the entire team. — She said exasperatedly. — And you know how much I respect you as a person. I'm not going to be a rat and let you get into trouble for being honest with me, I thought you held me in higher esteem. — Minerva really seemed offended that I did not want to tell her something. She sighed before continuing. — Hermione, I know you're aware that I'm not blind or stupid. I know Severus wasn't friendly with Potter, but I thought it ended there. Tell me the truth, I want to help. Every time we are training everyone is acting tense and no one wants to say anything during our meetings. This is not normal. — she concluded.
I just wanted to get out of this office and bury myself in the hospital work but instead dealt with what she was asking me to do.
― I'm not disagreeing with you. Things are tense and it sucks, Minerva. But we are adults now, not those pre-war teenagers who lived whining in the corridors. Then no one will complain.
― Then tell me what is the dissatisfaction with Severus. — She inquired.
― Why do you always do this to me? — I moaned.
She laughed.
— Because you never tell me bullshit. — She responded promptly. ― I want things to go back to the way they should, so tell me what needs to be corrected.
Didn't she understand? Wasn't she the one who threatened us with exclusion from the Hogwarts program if we complained about Snape? Each of us who had given up on birthdays, a social life, relationships, time with our families felt intimidated by that threat at the start of the semester.
— I know, Minerva, but you know we're all going to be careful. What did you expect? We were warned at first to be careful what we can say about Snape, and then when we come to practice, or go home, there's this ton of reporters constantly bombarding us on him.
The sigh that came out of it reminded me of a punctured balloon. She still didn't want to believe it. Suddenly I felt a little bad that I was holding the truth, until I remembered the very real threat that Snape gave me, after I had helped him, and then outrage and revolt went over everything.
— Okay. — I took a deep breath. ― I think everyone is a little unsure of his presence here. I think. I can only say for myself. Nobody says anything because we're all probably too afraid to get in trouble. And it does not help that he is not exactly, him. — A smile cracked the headmistress's face. — I'm serious, Minerva. I think at some point everyone expected him to be a nightmare, to call us useless and magical waste. But somehow, it's worse to have Snape not caring. He doesn't say anything; he doesn't do anything, he's just there.
There was the incident at the photo shoot. And he had threatened me, when all I had done was help him, but I kept that crap to myself. Not because of what he said, but because I wasn't that kind of person. And that was a fact. Snape did nothing, said nothing. He does not share his knowledge or his anger, the latter, except with me, of course.
— Saint Merlin. — Minerva nodded and ran a hand over her hair. — I understand.
— Look, he's a great wizard. Even though he is half-blood, I imagine his magical level must be really good. Given this, shouldn't he challenge us? Complain? Tell us when we are doing something good or at least ridicule us when we do something spectacularly bad? Anything? He doesn't even complain about our potions! I figured maybe he was just re-setting life at Hogwarts, but it was long enough now. Don't you think?
— I understand what you're saying. It makes sense. ― She adjusted her glasses when she glanced at the ceiling. — I don't know why I didn't think about it before. — Minerva nodded to herself before looking at me. — At least now I know where I should start.
Rummaging in the chair for a moment, I sat down and nodded to her.
— Is that all?
Minerva looked at me thoughtfully for a few seconds, until she finally gave me a nod.
— I appreciate you talking to me. I'll make sure we can fix this. — She said resolutely, what was my cue to leave.
— Okay, then I'll go. See you tomorrow.
I grabbed my belongings and got up.
— And let me know if there is anything I can do for you too. Don't think I didn't notice that you look like you're ready to rip someone's head off. — She said, giving me a fun look.
Nothing escapes this woman. I smiled and waved to her, who was still sitting across the table.
— I'm fine, Minerva. Thanks.
Her features eased a little and an emotion that I'm not sure I recognized crossed her face when I took a step out.
— I'm proud of you, Hermione, for standing up against him. Especially now that I know how you all feel about his presence here. I want you to know that. You're a good girl.
Minerva's words made me feel both happy and guilty. I gave her a little nod and shrugged.
― I should have said something to you earlier about the team. ― I answered
― You said something now and that's all that matters. — She gave it back.
We said goodbye to each other one more time and then I was out there. Bag over my shoulder, I slowly made my way out, wondering if I had done the right thing. I wasn't optimistic, but what else was I supposed to do? I, painfully, could spend another eight months tiptoeing around Snape if I were the only one being affected by his presence, I thought, going back down the old, familiar path, but it was the whole team feeling bothered. Something really needed to be adjusted.
Two corridors later and I reach the foot of the stairs that would lead me to the lower floor. I swing back and forth on my heels as I wait for them to move up to me. It was the gentle creak of light footsteps that awakened me, the sound was nothing special on the stone floor of the castle, but when I saw the hem of a black robe, my shoulders were strained. And I looked up, and of course it was the person I had just talked about.
I cleared my throat, when he stopped a meter or something like that away from me, and we looked at each other. And the depth of his eyes, it was exactly as I had imagined it would be, as I had dreamed that was: a bright darkness, elegant and incredibly attentive to the weight of my gaze. Holy Merlin, he must be really intense.
The fear that his talent as Legilimens would act on me caused me to lower my gaze to his crossed forearms. I can notice the tense muscles in his chest beneath the fabric of his black coat, and the fingers of his left hand resting on his right forearm, and I remember how fascinated I was by those long, skillful fingers. I swallow it dry, reminding myself that now I hate him, but I make the mistake of looking up again, at his eyes, and find them locked in me.
Severus Snape was watching me check him out.
My feelings erupt and the hopeful young woman inside me, whom I killed last week, is reborn in full force. I have to force myself to keep her under control by repeating to myself that I dragged this man out of a pub and left him safely in a hotel room without a single thank you in return, not even a smile, all I got was a threat. Days later, he insulted Harry and buried any appreciation I had for him. Please, Hermione, don't forget that.
Recovering from my hormonal lack of control, I sketch a smile using only half of my face that is able to move.
— Hi. — I greeted, until I remembered to quickly add the rest of the sentence. ― Professor.
That look came down to my hands, perhaps to check if I was holding my wand, and then made its way back to look at my face. His expression remained closed, but his eyes seemed even brighter than when we first looked at each other. I lifted my chin and blinked at him, still forcing the same smug smile on my face.
The stairs stopped at almost the same instant that he answered me with a "Hello" in that deep voice and in a lower tone than usual, as if it cost him ten years of his life to use the voice with such an insolent creature as me.
We looked at each other right in the eye for a split second, before I raised my eyebrows and stepped on the step that the castle stairs offered me. I turned to face the man still standing and saw him make the same movement as I did, embarking on the same staircase, but taking two steps down.
He didn't say anything else. Neither did I, and I kept my eyes fixed on the castle walls as the stairs moved and led us down. It was the most awkward three minutes of my life.
The problem with our mentors, or perhaps with professors in general, that I had discovered throughout my life, was that they had huge mouths. The mouth of the Giant Squid should be nothing compared to that of a professor. But honestly, it was my fault.
I really should know better. Since we were teenagers in the halls of this very castle, older students made jokes about Snape and Minerva being a gossip duo who kept Dumbledore abreast of everything that happened to the student body, and yet, I forgot everything I had learned. So, I can't blame anyone but myself for trusting Minerva.
I was halfway down the Quidditch field, heading to my seat away from where the flying sessions were going on, and thinking, what could I talk about the difference in the Abbott family tree in today's conversation with Hannah, when someone stepped right in the middle of my path.
It was a simple step aside, which landed the body larger than mine only thirty inches away. I knew it wasn't Dean. Dean was riding a broom across the field, and there were only two men on the team at that height. And two of them were too pleasant to do something so stormy.
The instant I made eye-to-eye contact with him, I learned that Minerva was insensitive to the point of mentioning my name to Snape. My heart felt like it would go up my throat. He didn't have to say 'I know what you said' because the hateful look on his face said it all. If he heard my fiery speech about Harry without moving a muscle in his face, then I knew that whatever he had heard from Minerva, it hit a nerve. A person like Snape did not like to be criticized, because he probably thought himself perfect.
Not that I had called him a useless piece of junk, which would be horribly rude. Nor did I say that he was a terrible wizard, and that he did not deserve the position at Hogwarts. Nothing remotely like this came out of my mouth, but I put myself in his situation, thinking of myself with an ego ten times the size of what I currently had, and wondered how I would feel. And yes, I would feel very upset if someone started saying what I needed to act differently.
But it was true, he was affecting the team with that impassive behavior, so I would keep my word. After all, what would I do? Apologize to someone who didn't deserve? I did what I needed to do. Then I was right where I was, even with him standing in my way, I managed to calm my heart and straightened my shoulders, looking at him from the front.
— Yes?
— All ready, battle simulation! — Madame Hooch screamed.
My courage only went so far, because the next thing I did was turn and run towards the line where the duels began. I positioned myself between Cho and Sarah, one of the level eight newcomers, who was always trying to beat me.
— I feel like today is the day, Granger. — She smiled.
The adrenaline rush of finding out I was ratted out to Snape still ran freely through my body. This meant that Sarah had no chance.
― I don't know, I'm feeling really good today, but let's go.
The transfigured obstacles that the professors placed in front of us were scattered for about three kilometers around the field, and stretched almost to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, we had to duel, while we jumped over the obstacles and reached the other side without any spell hitting us.
The sound of the whistle echoed in the air and I fired straight until I hid behind the first rock, about fifty meters from where we were. I slid behind her, at the same instant as Justin, who was on the same team as me today.
— Sarah's hunting you. — He blew.
I snorted in fun and got up, shooting the first stunner, which hit Dean's shield in full, and just didn't pierce it because we're both Level Nine Wizards. Immediately, I fired with Justin to the next obstacle. This time we parted, I lunged at what looked like living hedges, as he sneaked behind the remains of a stone wall, almost being struck by Dean's spell.
I filled my lungs with air and threw myself to run the final kilometer. I was halfway there when I heard the whisper of a spell and cast my Protego the instant Sarah's Stupefy spell came close enough. I returned with a spell Incarcerous that hit her legs and knocked her face down on the lawn. I ran the last meters paying attention to my surroundings, but no one from the opposite team came to challenge me. I ended up with a sufficient distance between myself and the next Wizard, celebrating how good it is to simulate a battle, without being really terrified.
I kept my wand in my holster as I paused, trying to control my breath, and smiled at Sarah as she crossed the finish line, already without the ropes I had thrown. She looked a little irritated, but managed to return the smile.
— I don't know how the hell you do that. — She gasped.
— I train. A lot. ― I answered back, and when she gave me an expression that said 'Bullshit', I laughed. ― I have individual training, or had, until last semester. I think Minerva will resume them soon. Half-blood wizards like to train with a Muggle-born. Since our magic level is high, the challenge is greater for them. You can talk to her for a private time too.
— Really? — She asked, a little incredulous.
― Yes. ― I answered.
She wiped her forehead and gave me a grateful look.
— Okay, right. Sounds great.
By the time we finished talking, the whole team had finished their simulation as well and we knew today's practice was over. I went to where my things were, keeping a look out for Minerva. As soon as I picked up my bag, I made my way to the busy witch transfiguring the obstacles we had just used back into normal stones.
— Are you ready to go? — She greeted me.
— I'm ready. — I confirmed it by looking at her face and trying to find any sign that she felt remorse for taking advantage of my trust.
— Everything alright? — She asked, when she noticed that I did not move from where I was.
I looked around to make sure no one was too close and turned my attention to her.
— Did you tell Snape what I told you?
The old bastard had the decency to look a little embarrassed.
— I had a conversation with him here this morning. I thought it was time. — She neither agreed, nor denied.
— And you told him that I was the one who said something?
Her eyes were careful and consistent when she answered me.
― He must have guessed that it was you since you were the only one who faced him with an audience.
And I was also seen by him leaving the hallway of Minerva's office. Well, it was done, and there was no reason to grumble.
― You can look for me, if this becomes a problem. — Minerva stated in a sincere and careful tone, which made me believe her.
I gave her a reassuring smile that didn't necessarily reflect how I felt.
— All right, I was just... Curious, whether you said something or not. No big deal.
Finally, she answered directly.
— No, I didn't say anything. Severus is perceptive.
I sighed, yes, he is.
― Alright. Thank You, Minerva. See you later then.
I sighed again, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. The last thing I wanted was to bring negative attention to myself, especially if Snape was involved. Hogwarts had been elated by his arrival, and although I was considered one of today's greatest witches, I understood the priorities. A counselor was worth more than a volunteer.
Stroking my phone over the stuff in my bag, I thought I'd call Harry to complain, but then I thought better, he's had enough disappointment with Snape. Also, I would have to explain all my discussions with Snape to make it all make sense, and I still didn't want Harry to know that I took his pains to myself. I weighed the options and accepted that keeping everything to myself was the best way to handle everything.
There is a saying that some people use: Be careful with what you want. And when we grow up, we begin to realize how much power there is in words. So if I desire something, and I talk about it, almost always, it happens.
And my subconscious decided to remind me of something I would never remember in my right mind: there was a time when I once wished to be apprenticed to Severus Snape. On my wish list about him, it was he who would teach me to be an exceptional wizard, just like he had been. And today, fate decided to show herself as the fickle and immature bitch that it is, because just a couple of days after telling Minerva about how we were all affected by the inattention of our old teacher, my teenage prayers were finally answered.
That's because, a new man appeared in the castle after that. A man with an iron rod through his spine, keeping his posture hard as steel and a voice that could not be misunderstood.
How many times had I thought about, how much I wanted Snape to be the kind of mentor that a wizard of his caliber had the potential to be?
I just didn't remember the fact that what I thought of as 'guiding' he apparently interpreted as 'hangman' and the following days were the most arduous of my life, both mentally and physically. Part of it was because there was my own internal pressure to always be perfect, on the line, exemplary, committed, and making my fame worthwhile. However, the main reason was Snape. He appeared to the encounters with hatred stamped on his face and hawk eyes, which seemed to suddenly evaluate everything.
The first time he screamed, most of the team was busy dueling and suddenly paused for two seconds. It was as if the voice of Merlin himself had suddenly descended on us and told us that all the magic was already back or something.
— More intense!
Two words. Two words that caught us off guard. More than five seconds passed and no one had moved yet. Until he screamed again.
― What are you waiting for? More powerful spells! Now!
It brought us all back to action. Dean, who was dueling on the other side of the field, found my eyes and telepathically communicated with the same words: What the hell? Each of us stepped up the spells, but Snape continued with his angry, determined, and strangely fascinating voice, hurling screams at the entire group. My stomach churned every time I heard him. That was exactly the wish I had made.
When I was already panting because the duel I fought with Justin was fierce, I smiled because it was me who had teased it on us. And that was exactly why a younger version of me admired him. Of course, he was an idiot, and was only acting like that because he had been pressured to do so by Minerva, due to my complaint. But when I looked around and everyone was dueling at a level never seen before, I understood that it was worth having the asshole hating me.
No less than five minutes later, I regretted thinking of Snape with admiration. Another wish of mine came true and my advisor noticed me in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, but not with the magnificence I had anticipated. Yeah, I had his attention, but it wasn't as fantastic as my dreams had told me it would be.
— Granger!
It took me a second to react to my last name being called. Almost everyone here calls me Hermione, after all, we are companions. It was hard for someone at Hogwarts to call me by my last name.
— Granger, what kind of slow spell casting is this? Are you really trying? — He growled.
The hair on the back of my neck crept up and my mouth became dry, but I accelerated the movements of my wand. Still, he kept standing next to me watching me duel Justin and commenting on every release of mine.
"It's still slow." "Is your level really nine, Granger?" "Pathetic." "What kind of spell was that?" "Do you even know how to cast a stuporous spell, Granger?"
He threw everything in my face, no affection in his tone, let alone pride. Every time I looked at him, his face was set in disgust as he stared at me.
— More intense! ― He screamed again, looking at me with an expression that was definitely not pleasant and demanding the maximum of my magic.
But my idiotic thoughts could only focus on the glow in his eyes, the same bright starlight that set his gaze on fire, when he stared at me in my dream and his silky voice whispered to me, by the poolside of my dream:
"And I will take you as I please".
I shuddered and all my concentration shattered. Justin took advantage of the gap in my shield and hit me in the face with a stunner. Snape just looked at me with contempt, as I tried to recover.
— Again. — He hissed.
Merlin in Heaven. He's a bastard.
I got up, wiped my sweat and went into a duel position again. I could handle it. At least that's what I told myself.
I was lying on my bed, watching a beam of light that left the dust particles dancing on the floor. The curtains on the windows were open and the moonlight filled the room, making everything bluish-silver, which made me feel as if I was frozen in an eternal moment. It was past midnight and I couldn't sleep, my body ached from the effects of today's grueling workout, my thoughts were agitated by Snape's change of attitude, my eyes were too heavy to read, and outside it was cold enough that I wasn't interested in going out.
I have never feared the night, although I find it little comforting in the darkest hours, however, its silence, pays off. At night is where I often revisit everything I've been doing with my life since the war seemed to end. It is always at the moment when I try to sleep, that the memories of the battle or of the day hit me. And when these memories try to suffocate me, I sit on the edge of the window and gaze at the stars, for they always make me feel wonderfully small and insignificant.
I followed the beam of light with my eyes as far as it went, on the wall covered by a life-size portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw. It was not the first time I noticed her image, but today my gaze was drawn to the flowing white dress that seemed to move in the moonlight. Wait, moving? I sat in bed apprehensive. The magical photographs had stopped moving along with the extinction of magic. Could it still carry magic?
My skin crept when I grabbed my wand and muttered a Lumus, before I approached the wall. I reached out to the portrait. Everything seemed stopped now. Rowena's dress was motionless and I frowned in confusion. My fingertips brushed the white paint off her dress as I stared the image of the Hogwarts founder in the eye, as if I wanted to ask her if she was playing a trick on me. And then, just as the portrait of Ariana Dumbledore did on the day of the battle, when we were on the boar's head, the frame turned on its hinges, and just behind it, it revealed a passage.
A cold breeze blew into the dark depths, pulling unruly curls down my face, and I felt a chill down my spine. Rowena was one of the founders of Hogwarts, did her spirit induce the castle to show me something? Would her magic have that power? Did it work in our world of restricted magic? I looked back at my bed full of books, before taking a deep breath and advancing into the passage. The light from my wand revealed that the stone passage was covered with a thick layer of dust. The cold breeze blew once more, almost as if inviting me to follow her.
Cobwebs hung everywhere as I walked down the long staircase that plunged far beyond the light of my wand. I was absurdly tense as I waited for a single sound that would send me running back to my room. But the descent was silent – silent and dead, almost as if it were a completely forgotten passage.
The base of the stairs soon arose, and I stood before three equally dark and imposing portals. Where was I? I had no difficulty realizing that such a place was one of the remote and forgotten spaces of the castle: the floor was covered with dust. Not even a trace of footprint.
Because I knew how the stories always ended, I raised my wand to the arches above the portals, in search of any ancient scripture or rune that was carved in black magic should I enter one of them. The breeze blew again and much stronger in the direction of the rightmost arc.
I almost took a step towards it, but the hairs on my arm crept up when I felt a vibration in my wand, making it point to the darkness that seemed stronger than everything else. Whispers mingle in the breeze, almost as if they were the whispers of the veil of death, in the Ministry of Magic, the place where Sirius disappeared.
Shuddering, I ran back where I had come from. Following dark whispers could lead me to the same fate as Harry's godfather years earlier. The fear that ran through my body pushed me up and up, my heavy breathing and my noisy footsteps being the only sounds. Even grumbling with fatigue, I shot up the stairs to the room.
I was sweating when I got back to my quarters. I quickly pulled the portrait over the hinges, locking the passage back behind it, and threw myself into my bed. What the hell was that?
Final Notes
Snape mad and Hermione with even more things to deal with, now that we have finally reached a point in the story where we will dive deeper into the mystery of the disappearance of magic.
The answers from the previous chapter were amazing and now I want to know from you: what are the guesses about what you think is coming? Tell me! Cheers!
Translation by Jessinthedungeons.
