Chapter Twelve

Firewhiskey, chess and numbing the pain

When Hermione woke up the next morning, she felt disoriented. As her eyes got used to the sunlight, she realized that she was in the dungeons, but not in her own bed. Wait a minute... Sunlight? In the dungeons? Her eyes snapped open and she sat up in the bed, looking around the room in awe. There were windows to the right of her, and she could see the sun shining over the Lake. How was it possible that Snape had a view of the Lake in his quarters? He lived under water level for Merlin's sake!

"They are enchanted."

Hermione let out a shriek of surprise and at the same time she jumped more than she had done in a long time at the sound of Snape's voice.

"Must you always startle me so on purpose, sir?" she wondered warily as she glanced over her shoulder, knowing that he most likely would look much too pleased.

Snape was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk playing on his lips.

"You know I must, Miss Granger," he replied silkily.

Hermione felt a pang in her heart as she heard him once again utter her surname. She had hoped that after last night, he would finally start calling her 'Hermione' naturally, but it would appear that she was sadly mistaken. Snape studied her for a moment, wondering why a shadow had fallen over her features in less than a second. He beckoned for her to join him in the other room.

"We will take breakfast in my living room this morning."

Hermione sprung to her feet, thinking that the only way to hear her name from Snape's lips on a regular basis was to actually befriend him – a feat easier said than done. Her stomach growled loudly as the scent of breakfast reached her nostrils and she wondered why she was so hungry – it wasn't like her to crave food in the mornings. Oh right. I didn't have dinner last night – no wonder I'm starving.

"So you said the windows in your rooms are enchanted?" she asked as she sat down on a chair by a little table that had just enough space to fit a plate of toast and marmalade and tea for the both of them. "Like the ceiling in the Great Hall?"

"Ten points to Gryffindor," Snape said and smirked when he saw her cheeks redden in delight.

Gryffindors... None of them were very good with hiding their emotions and this one ate up praise as if she was being fed the sweetest ambrosia. It was, however, strange that a part of him didn't mind much to see her face brighten when he bestowed her a rare compliment and he absentmindedly wondered if he would have felt the same if he had seen her react like this to praise when she was still a student at Hogwarts. Probably not... He would have simply sneered at her and called her something degrading.

"What's on your mind, Professor?"

Hermione's gentle voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he gave her an almost confused look.

"You seemed... troubled."

"I am mainly concerned that last night has set you back in your rehabilitation," Snape answered smoothly as he swiftly brushed the marmalade on his toast. "Can you tell me about what happened before I arrived at the scene?"

Hermione gulped and ducked her head. Snape's eyes narrowed a fraction.

"Miss Granger, I told you yesterday that I am not angry with you, nor will I punish you or hurt you for disobeying me. I am merely trying to understand what possessed you for going out alone and I need to know what happened with Mr Weasley prior to when I got there."

Hermione inhaled deeply and cautiously met his penetrating gaze.

"We can look at the memory after breakfast, sir," she said quietly as she wrung her hands together. "As to why I went out on my own... I can't explain it. The call of grounds was too enormous for me to ignore."

Snape stared at her, uncomprehending. The call of the grounds? What in Merlin's name was that supposed to mean?

"I've always been an outdoorsy person," she tried explaining, "from when I was a little girl. I used to go camping with my parents during summer, during school breaks... Even some weekends if the weather was nice. When I came here, to this magnificent place, I fell in love with the nature surrounding me. Sometimes, when Harry and Ron thought I was studying in the library, I was really outside, just enjoying the quiet as I watched sunsets... birds singing and playing in the air..."

She paused when she realized that she was rambling. She had to find a way to tie this up, fast, before he lost his patience with her.

"I just felt as if the ground was calling for me, almost begging me to come out. It's happened before, usually when I've been couped up inside for too long."

"I see," Snape said, but in reality he couldn't really understand what she meant at all.

They finished what was left of their breakfast in silence and once they were done, Hermione gave him an apprehensive glance.

"Memory time?" she wondered with a sigh.

Snape checked his watch and realized with a start that his class would begin in less than five minutes. Honestly, what was with him lately?

"We'll have to save it for tonight, Miss Granger," he said as he stood, quickly striding over to his desk to gather up some papers he needed with him. "Can you brew me the Blood-Replenishing Potion today?"

"Of course, sir," she answered automatically, realizing only after he had left that she had never brewed this potion before and would perhaps need a bit more instruction than normally.

She considered going after him, but refrained from doing so. She was, after all, the brightest witch of her age, although after yesterday's escapade it might be a good idea to start question the truth of that statement. Sighing softly, she strolled down to the Potions lab, knowing that she could always run to Snape and interrupt his class if she ran into a problem.

HP * HP * HP * HP * HP

When Snape and Hermione emerged from the Pensieve later on that evening, Snape was forced to close his eyes for a moment to school his features from angry to an adequate "that wasn't so bad" look. He wanted to throttle Ronald Weasley. He would never be able to understand a man's violence against a woman he claimed to love. His father had done the same thing to his mother, treating her as if she didn't deserved to be treated anything but nasty and Eileen Snape had just accepted her fate. Since her husband had hated magic, she never used it when there was a chance he could catch her using it and that meant that her healing spells almost always came a little bit too late, leaving her skin blemished with scars. Thankfully, Ron had only had his fists available. Tobias Snape had preferred to use anything that was sharp and pointy.

"I noticed that you seemed to tense up when he called your name, Miss Granger, but what was actually going through your mind?" he wondered as they sat down in the chairs in front of the roaring fire.

"Nothing coherent, at first," she answered, staring in to the flames. "I felt this terrible shock at hearing his voice and the next second I was terrified. He was so calm and relaxed, while my pulse was racing and my heart beating so hard that I'm amazed he didn't hear it."

She paused, and thought for a moment. Her gaze shifted from the fire to meet the black eyes of the Potions Master.

"Then I remember going through my options. Run, try to fight him of or go with him home and accept my fate. I decided to run, to try to get back to the Castle... Back to you."

She felt her cheeks redden as she let that last part slip out. You don't need to tell him everything, Hermione! she admonished herself. Snape's eyes didn't betray anything of how he reacted to her words, so after she had lowered her eyes to her hands, she continued.

"When he was lying on top of me, saying thatI am alone without him, I realized that he was wrong. I have Harry, Minerva and you, and neither of you will ever abandon me," she said with a small smile. "That gave me strength and I made up my mind to fight back. But before I knew, his fist connected with my face again and the next moment he was gone."

She met his gaze and she could the smallest hint of a satisfied smile playing on Snape's lips.

"I do not believe I have ever felt such a surge of exhilarating contentment, apart from being rid of the Dark Lord, as to when I saw saw Ronald Weasley fly through the air without a broom to land flat on his ass."

Hermione couldn't help it as a little giggle slipped out of her.

"It was rather satisfying and enjoyable seeing it in the memory, sir," she agreed and they shared an amused look before they both turned their gazes to the fire.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The dancing flames had them both enthralled for quite some time. Hermione had always found fire fascinating and she greatly enjoyed staring at the flames, trying to distinguish what shapes she could see, if any at all. Finally, it was Snape that broke the tranquil silence.

"Hopefully, your decision to fight back will have helped your rehabilitation. I might not have done anything that we will be able to see tomorrow, but perhaps it is a start."

He got to his feet suddenly and poured them each a glass of firewhiskey each.

"I am adding an activity to our routine, Miss Granger, if you are willing."

Hermione frowned, wondering what on earth he was going to have her do now. She was already brewing potions for him, meditating before breakfast and before she went to bed, she read the book about Animagi every free moment of her day and she spent two hours working on her magic with Snape every evening. Soon she wouldn't have time to sleep!

"Do you play chess, Miss Granger?"

Hermione's jaw dropped slightly and she stared at him blankly, uncomprehending. What did that have to do with... well, anything?

"I ask because I am wondering how you would feel about ending our sessions with a little something to drink and a nice, relaxing game of chess?"

"I think it sounds as if you want to socialize with me, Professor," Hermione said with a smirk.

Snape rolled his eyes. Yes, of course that's how she would interpret it.

"Hardly, Miss Granger," he sneered, but it didn't quite come off as the Potions Master's most disdainful sneer. "I merely prefer playing the noble game with someone, rather than another thousand games on my own."

He handed her the glass of firewhiskey, which Hermione eyed quite warily.

"You know, this stuff is vile," she said as she accepted the glass, her comment making Snape snort in amusement. "I barely understand how adults can drink it with a straight face."

"We drink it because we are accustomed to its flavor. It might take some time, Miss Granger, but after that, I am quite sure even you will enjoy it. Besides, seeing as you are an adult now yourself, is it not time for you to be able to drunk the 'vile stuff' with a straight face?"

Now it was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes, but she secretly agreed with him. She took a small sip and did everything in her power not to wince as the liquid burned her throat. Her display caused Snape to once again let out an amused snort.

"Almost, Miss Granger. Almost. Next time try not to wrinkle your nose."

Hermione glared at him - she wasn't sure if he was teasing her or if he actually had meant it as real advice. Either way, she vowed to herself not to wrinkle her nose next time. They were quiet for a moment and then Snape's features grew solemn, almost sad.

"I used to play with Albus," he said softly, the tone of his voice so sad that she wanted to reach out and embrace him. "I miss having a worthy opponent."

Hermione bit her lip, wondering what she could say now that wouldn't cause her to step over some kind of line. She knew that Snape missed Dumbledore more than he would ever admit to her. It was obvious when he spoke about him, or heard someone say something about the wizard that had been more of a father to him than his own. She finally chose to overlook his comment about Dumbledore – perhaps they could talk about him another time, when they knew each other better.

"And you believe me to be a worthy opponent, sir?"

Snape narrowed his eyes at her act of saintlike innocence, knowing full well that she was fishing for another compliment. Hmm. Make her blush with delight or make her glare in annoyance? Decisions, decisions... He stroke a finger along his upper lip, his head tilted slightly.

"I believe you are the only opponent, Miss Granger, that would even stand a chance of giving me an entertaining game."

There – a compliment and a slight insult at the same time. He didn't often manage to pull something like that off. But it worked, because Hermione was now looking somewhat confused, unsure of what to make of his statement. He smirked and lifted his glass slightly in salute to her. Not knowing what else to do, Hermione took a sip as well and was so off balance that she didn't even notice that she didn't wince when the Firewhiskey burned its way down her throat.

"So, would you care to indulge me in a gave of chess, Miss Granger?"

"Well, I don't think you'll enjoy it much, sir. I've only played a few times, and it's been so long that I barely remember the rules."

Snape waved her words away with his hand and then muttered something under his breath – a mere second later, a chessboard appeared in mid air and then gracefully fluttered down to the table in between the two chairs.

"Someone who is so adept with logical thinking and memorizing... well, everything, really, should not have much trouble with the rules of chess. We will simply try this tonight and are you neither remotely interested or entertained, I will not force it upon you again."

Hermione couldn't even consider any other option than saying that she would play, because Snape was so... eager to play with someone, even if it was against a person who barely knew what the pieces were called. He probably hadn't had anyone to play with since Dumbledore died. Her heart squeezed in compassion – had he had anyone since he had been forced to kill his mentor and longtime friend?

"I will play, Professor, but only if you promise to bare with me and not snap at me when I make a stupid move or if I'm taking too long," she said with a smile.

With a twitch of his wand, her chair twisted slightly and moved closer to the table.

"Of course, Miss Granger."

For ten minutes, Snape told Hermione of the rules of chess, mainly how the pieces moved and how the game was won. Then they played two games, the first in which Snape slaughtered Hermione, while in the second, she managed to put his King in check – she had felt a moment of triumph before she came to realize that this had made her own King completely open for his Queen to end the game.

"Thank you, sir. I had a really lovely evening," Hermione said as she stood to retire to her room for the night. "Chess is something you definitely wouldn't be forcing on me, should you decide you want to humiliate me again sometime."

Snape actually gave her a real smile at that and she stared at him for a moment, always lost and intrigued in the change of his features that came with that rare smile.

"Thank you for indulging me," he said softly, sounding completely genuine. "I will most likely want the chance to humiliate you again, sooner or later."

She barked out a laugh at that and he walked her to the door to his quarters.

"Sleep well, Miss Granger," he said with a slight bow of his head.

"Hermione," she corrected adamantly.

Snape tilted his head, searching her eyes for a moment. Then he sighed in defeat.

"Good night, Hermione."

The radiant smile that she ought to save for loved ones appeared on her lips and he kept his senses sharp, as if to trying to etch the way she looked at this moment into his mind, so that he could remember the smile she was giving him now for the rest of life.

"Good night, Professor."

HP * HP * HP * HP * HP

Te next few days, Hermione's days looked pretty much the same. She would get up at seven, meditate for half an hour, join Snape for breakfast in the Great Hall at eight, start brewing whatever potion he wanted her to brew at eight thirty, break for a quick lunch at around twelve, finish the potion, read about and research animagi until it was time for dinner, meet up with Snape in his office at seven for a ninety minute session, have a glass of firewhiskey and play chess and then end the day with another meditation session, just long enough for her mind be tranquil when she went to bed. And all during this, she fully took advantage of spending so much time with Snape as a chance to get to know him. On the fourth evening after their first chess game, Hermione decided to ask one of the questions she had been wanting to ask him for a long time.

"Sir, I hope this doesn't question doesn't come off as presumptuous, you can just ignore it if it is, but..."

Snape merely waited, his eyebrow slightly raised as he kept his eyes glued to the chessboard, wanting to keep his concentration until she was ready to ask him whatever it was she wanted to know. He was fully aware of the fact that if she considered the question to be so bad that she felt the need to warn him about it first, the inquiry could only concern two things - the Death Eaters or Lily Potter. He could sense her hesitation and then somewhere from within she found the courage to open her mouth.

"Why did you become a Death Eater?"

She waited for him to sneer at her and tell her to mind her own business. Instead he raised his eyes for a moment and held up his hand, as if trying to tell her that he would answer her in a minute. His gaze averted back to the board and he barely moved in several minutes. She waited patiently until he made his move and then he sat back comfortably in his chair.

"Why do you ask?" he wondered, his tone neither angry nor upset in any way.

"I just don't understand, sir," she said with a small shrug. "I know that you are different now from when you were young, but... You're halfblood yourself and your best friend was muggleborn, so I doubt you believed in the purity of blood back then."

He considered her for a moment before he nodded his head in agreement.

"You are correct, Miss Granger. The purity of blood has never been an issue for me. I would quite the hypocrite if it was an issue, wouldn't I? Just like the Dark Lord, in fact..."

His mind drifted back to his Hogwarts days. He and Lily had been so excited about going to Hogwarts and from the start it had seemed as if the magical world had wanted them apart by placing them in two different houses. The crowd he had fallen in with in Slytherin House were all from ancient wizarding families with nothing but the purest blood running through their veins, and they had all grown up with the impression that they were superior to anyone who did not share their blood status. The few people in his house who cared enough to question why they didn't recognize the name 'Snape' as a pureblood name, he chose to be honest with – the venom in his voice whilst speaking of his muggle father was so real that no one dared question him further. Besides, those who hadn't feared Snape for his knowledge of the Dark Arts, respected that knowledge enough not to care about his blood status.

"To put it simply, Miss Granger, I fell in with the wrong crowd during my years as Hogwarts. Quite hard not to, in those days, if you were put in Slytherin. The Dark Lord was gathering all the pureblood families together and those who couldn't openly stand by his side, due to their positions within the Ministry or those who were still in school, helped in other ways."

Hermione sat absolutely still, completely lost in his tale. She hardly dared to breath. She didn't want to be do anything that would break his thoughts, since he would probably realize then that he was being far too open with her.

"Lucius Malfoy was a sixth year when I came to Hogwarts and immediately seemed to noticed my skill in ordinary classes, along with the skill I showed in casting hexes and minor curses whenever another student would bully me. Until Potter and Black started noticing me, I really could watch after myself. Lucius took the time to talk to me and in some ways he was the only real friend I had in Slytherin. Lily loathed him, said he was sure to become a Death Eater the minute he was out of Hogwarts, if he wasn't already, and the only reason he spoke to me was because he wanted to recruit me."

Snape came to a pause as he lifted his gaze from the fire to simply stare into space.

"I should have listened more to her. Merlin only knows how different everything would have been if I had. When I finally lost her forever, when she told me that Potter was her soul mate, I was so full of anger that I turned to those who seemed to be the only people who understood me – the only people I had left. How could I refuse to join the Dark Lord's ranks? I would have been utterly alone had I chosen to decline the kind offer."

It took a little while for Hermione to realize that he was done talking. She was so dumbfounded over the fact that he had so easily told her about what must have been one of the most difficult and life altering decisions he had ever had to make. And now, she had no idea of what to say. Snape finally turned to look at her and for a moment their eyes locked, leaving the rest of the world out. He seemed to sense that she was struggling with what to say, because quite out of the blue he said;

"Miss Granger, it is your turn."

Her eyebrows lifted slowly, not at all understanding what in Merlin's name he was talking about. His eyes shifted to the table in between them and then it hit her. Riiiight. They were playing chess. She really did prefer to hear him speak about his life...

"Sir, can I ask you another question?"

He frowned, wondering what on earth she wanted to know now, not at all aware of the fact that she found him fascinating and craved to know more about him.

"If you must."

His answer made her hesitate, he saw it as clearly as if she told him out loud that now she wasn't sure if she wanted to ask the next question. He gave her a short nod, telling her to just spit it out.

"I know I must be overstepping my boundaries this time, sir, but... Is Lily Potter the only woman you've ever loved?"

Of all the questions she could have asked him, that was the one he had expected the least to hear. He flinched and got to his feet. For a moment he simply looked at her, but as soon as his brain registered that she looked frightened, he tried to cover it up by striding over to his desk to get the bottle of Ogden's. If they were going to talk about Lily Potter, he needed something to numb him.

"Lily has never been a topic of conversation which I have partaken in over the years. It hurts too much, thinking and speaking of her in the way that everyone else that knew her did and still do. So if you do not mind, I would like to drink three glasses of Firewhiskey before I answer that question."

Hermione's jaw dropped. What was she supposed to say to that? Something, obviously, as he was watching her and waiting for an answer.

"Er, no, I don't mind, sir."

She watched in stunned silence how Severus Snape downed three shots of Firewhiskey in three swift motions. After the last one he beckoned her to do the same with the glass of whiskey he had poured for her and, feeling so startled because of this new side of him, downed the liquid and completely forgot to wince when it burned her throat. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Snape staring at the flames, Hermione staring at Snape with her head tilted.

"Yes, Lily is the only woman I have ever loved," he finally answered slowly, taking his eyes from the fire so that he could pour them both another glass of whiskey. "I'm sure you've heard from many what a wonderful, loving woman she was – I was doomed from the moment I met her. Had I been wiser back then, I would have not pursued the Dark Arts so heavily. It was ultimately that factor that drove us apart."

This glass of whiskey he sipped on slowly, realizing that becoming downright drunk in front of Hermione Granger probably wasn't a good idea.

"I loved her in a way that I knew would never be reciprocated. She was, after all, the best in many ways, and too good and pure hearted for the likes of me. James Potter was in many ways well suited for her, apart the fact that he was a bully... She grounded him a lot during our last two years as students, growing out of it so that he would be worthy of Lily's love, a fact I have chosen to ignore for a long time."

Snape suddenly snapped his eyes up to meet Hermione's and he gave her a real Snapeish glare. Hermione's eyebrows rose, wondering what on earth she could have done wrong. She hadn't moved and she was barely breathing.

"Do not inform Potter that I have voluntarily admitted that his father was well suited for his mother."

Hermione let out a short laugh at that, but as his glare deepened, she sobered up quickly and nodded her head in agreement. He watched her a moment longer and then his eyes swept back towards the fire as he continued his tale.

"She is the only woman I have loved, but that may simply be because I have had very limited free time on my hands during the years since I graduated from Hogwarts. Love, like all the hardest things in life, takes time to build up. Should I feel inclined to find myself wanting a relationship, now is most likely the first time since Lily that I have time to try to find it."

He glanced at her sharply.

"I hope you understand, Miss Granger, that whatever I tell you within these walls, are told to you with the strictest confidence."

He finished his fifth glass of firewhiskey with a large gulp and then he reached for the bottle to pour himself a sixth. Merlin, he was going to regret this tomorrow.

"Of course, sir," she agreed with a small smile. "Does that mean that trust exists between us then?"

His hand paused, leaving the bottle slightly tilted over his glass.

"What?" he snapped as his eyes narrowed into small slits.

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and straightened out her back. She was not going to back down on this issue simply because he tried to be threatening. Thinking back on her first session with Snape, she had told him that trust was something that could exist between them some day, with time. He had nodded his head then as if he had agreed with her, but she had seen the doubtful gleam in his eyes. Ever since, she had hoped to prove to him that one day they would be able to trust each other unconditionally – like true friends were supposed to do.

"You heard me," she replied, and for the first time ever she forgot to be respectful as she had to add, "sir," as an afterthought.

He stared at her for a long time after that, his eyes narrowing slightly and un-narrowing every so often as if he was trying to decipher if she had some kind of hidden agenda for asking him such a question.

"Do you mean to say, Miss Granger, that you trust me?" he asked her slowly, so quietly that she only just heard him.

She scoffed at the question and Snape flinched a little.

"Of course I do, sir! After everything you've done for me, it would be foolish of me not to trust you. And I have bared my soul to you – I would never have consented to that if I didn't trust you."

She noticed that he visibly relaxed at her words and then went back to scrutinizing her.

"I suppose... that I would not have told you a single word to answer your questions if I had not trusted you to keep it to yourself, Miss Granger. So to answer your inquiry – yes, I do believe that trust does exist between us."

Yes! Hermione felt a sudden wave of triumph wash over her at his confession. Now perhaps they finally could start becoming real friends. She saw that he glanced at the clock on the wall.

"Time for bed, I think, Miss Granger."

"Hermione," she corrected his and straightened out her back a little in defiance. "My name, sir, is Hermione.

He gave her what could be best described as an amused look.

"So you keep informing me. Very well, then, Hermione. Time for bed."

She gave him a little smile and then got to her feet. He walked her to the door and graciously opened it for her with a small bow. Before she got a chance to bid him good night, he held up his hand. She snapped her mouth shut and waited for whatever it was that he wanted to say.

"I think the time has come, Hermione, for you to call me Severus. It seems to me that you prefer the use of given names over the use of last names."

Hermione's jaw dropped in surprise as she stared at him in wonder. Where had that come from? She had thought that she had several months ahead of her to try to get him to want to her to call him Severus.

"Close your mouth, Hermione. You look like a fish and it is not befitting for you."

He barked out a short, quiet laugh when she had some trouble doing as he had ordered. They simply looked at each other for a moment before Hermione finally placed her hand against his shoulder.

"Good night, Severus," she said softly, loving the way his name rolled off her tongue, and retracted her hand before he got a chance to scold her.

"Good night, Hermione."

There was something in his voice that made her pause a second before leaving him for the evening. She stared into his black orbs for a moment and she found herself desperately wanting to know what was going on in inside of him at the moment. His face was carefully schooled as it always was and she knew that someday she wanted and longed to get to know the man behind that mask. Giving him a last brief smile, she turned away and walked the short distance to her rooms.

For now, she was content in the way their relationship and friendship was developing. The fact that he had given her permission to call him by his first name was a huge step and she knew that wherever she wanted this friendship to go, she would have to take small steps with Severus Snape. Even though she was obviously damaged, she couldn't wield her magic properly after all, she could tell that Severus was damaged in his own ways. He had scars that ran so deep that it seeped into his soul. But just as he was helping her, Hermione vowed now to help him in whatever way she could.

She owed him that.

To be continued...