AN: I can't thank you enough for the lovely reviews I have received. I write for two reasons: firstly, as an outlet for the scenes and stories that regularly reside in my head and secondly, because I think it's amazing that 1000 people from all over the world, who have likely never met, can all be linked by one story that they enjoy. I'm just overjoyed that some of you are loving the story as much as I do, so thank you for letting me know in your reviews. Anyway, that's quite enough waffle from me...Happy Reading!
Professor Snape's first week of meetings with the 8th years had gone surprisingly well. Abbot and Bones had been simple cases to start with, willing to talk, if a little nervous around him, and, aside from dealing with the general horrors they had witnessed in the last year, neither had any specific issues that needed immediate attention. Boot and Corner had been similarly straightforward, if a little less willing to open up. The most difficult student meeting so far had been with Cho Chang. Her mother had been killed by Death Eaters in the downfall of the Ministry, and since then the poor girl had had very little opportunity to grieve for her loss. It wasn't beyond Severus' capabilities to comfort the girl, but he didn't relish an evening spent consoling a crying Ravenclaw. Finnegan had posed another challenge; strolling into Snape's office with confidence and hiding any real emotion behind a cheeky grin and Irish wit.
"Evening, Professor." He had plopped himself down in the chair opposite Severus without any hesitation on Friday evening. In a complete contrast to all the previous students, Finnegan's demeanor was totally relaxed.
"Good evening, Mr Finnegan. How has your week been?"
"Terrific, Professor, thank you for asking. And yours?" That had made Severus instantly wary; Seamus Finnegan had never once been so cheerful and polite in his presence, let alone enquired over his well-being.
"As good as could be expected, Finnegan." Severus had responded with his usual cynicism. "You've had no problems settling back into school routine?"
The boy had shrugged. "No, Sir. Why would I?" He'd asked as though genuinely bewildered by the question.
"I would think that obvious. As I said on Sunday night, things at Hogwarts were very difficult last year, particularly for those in the student rebellion group. It is natural that after experiencing such events, one might then struggle to adjust when they return to the mundane activities of normal school life."
Finnegan had raised an eyebrow. "Are you struggling to adjust, Professor? He had asked in faux concern and with the twinkle of mirth in his eye. "Do you need to talk to someone?"
"Finnegan." The Professor had growled in warning.
The boy had sighed and held his hands up in surrender. "Alright, Professor, don't chop me up for potions ingredients just yet. I know you're trying to help an' all, but I'm good. Yes, we went through a hell of a lot of crap last year, but I'm over it, I don't need to talk about it. And if I did, no offence, Sir, but you're the last person I'd spill my guts to." He leaned forward, elbows on knees. "I'll always be part of Dumbledore's Army; they are my brothers and sisters." Severus couldn't remember a time when he had heard the boy speak with so much passion. "We stick together and we'll always be there for each other. So you see, I don't need these little chats, Professor."
"As I said at the start of term, you will not be forced to talk about anything you do not wish to, but you must still attend these sessions."
"Alright, but if you could drop all of the pointed questions about how I'm doing that'd be most appreciated. Let's keep the conversation on more cheery topics."
"Like the weather?" Snape suggested sarcastically.
"Like Quidditch." The Irish lad had grinned.
Severus had found himself chuckling at that, and soon he was indeed, surprisingly, engaged in a conversation about Quidditch and then football and all manner of other muggle sports. Once Severus had stopped pushing him to talk about the war, Finnegan had conversed with him freely. They hadn't discussed anything meaningful, but Severus thought that maybe this was what the boy needed. For now the boy just wanted some normalcy, and until he was ready to talk about the tough stuff, Severus would allow him his normalcy.
When Severus had decided on a schedule for his meetings with the 8th years, it had seemed only logical to meet with them in alphabetical order, but he was now seriously questioning the wisdom of that decision. He had begun the meetings on the Wednesday, and had seen two students on each night until Friday. Now in the second week of term, he planned to do the same on Monday, Wednesday and Friday so he could speak with the remaining six. It was Severus' own bad luck that all of his most challenging students fell in the second week of meetings, and the man was most definitely not looking forward to it.
He was currently marking papers whilst awaiting Granger's arrival. Tonight he would have to speak with her about the flashbacks she was experiencing, and he had no illusions about the ease of his task.
He looked up when he heard a knock on the door and called out, "Enter."
A timid head peaked around the door, surrounded by distinctive curls.
"Good evening, Professor." She smiled sweetly, and though there was a slight hesitation in her step as he bid her come in, she did not seem as nervous as some of the previous student had been.
"Would you like a drink?" Professor Snape offered as she sat down before him.
She looked at his impressive china set. "Oh, is it tea?"
"The set is magical." He explained. "The pot is linked to the kitchens; provided it is non-alcoholic and the house elves can supply it, the pot will pour whatever you desire, even if you don't consciously know it."
Hermione's eyes lit up with excitement. "How fascinating! I guess it could link with the kitchens via an advanced banishing/summoning charm, much like vanishing cabinets. But how does it connect to an individual's subconscious?"
Severus smiled, not one of the other 8th years had been concerned with the workings of his extraordinary tea set; they had merely accepted his description and poured out their favourite drink without any further curiosity. He should've known Granger would need to know more.
"If you pour yourself a drink, I'll fetch a book which should answer your question." He stood and turned to the bookshelf behind his desk as Hermione reached for the china pot.
When he turned back her cup was filled with a steaming liquid which smelt of Earl Grey tea. He passed her a book entitled 'The Magic of Intention: Beyond Words and Wands.' Her whole face lit up with excitement as she examined the cover and Snape could tell she was just itching to start reading.
"How are you, Miss Granger?" He began gently.
"Very well, thank you, Professor. How are you?" She responded politely.
"I am well. Have you settled in? Any problems in the last week?"
"No, Sir, there hasn't been any problems. We're very glad to be back."
"We?"
"Harry, Ron and I." Hermione clarified.
"Ah – well that is good." Severus nodded. "Miss Granger, we need to discuss your flashbacks."
Her face paled and she looked at her hands in her lap, but didn't say anything.
Severus sighed. "Will you tell me what happened at Malfoy Manor?"
She looked up, a new determination in her eyes though she wasn't disrespectful.
"No, Sir, that's nothing to do with you."
"Miss Granger, I am responsible for your welfare. It does, therefore, concern me if you are suffering from flashbacks of events of the war." He said earnestly. "Your well-being, and that of all the students here, is of great importance to myself, the headmistress and the rest of the staff."
"I appreciate your concern, Sir, but it isn't necessary. I've experienced some flashbacks, yes, but they aren't frequent, nor are they harmful."
"Flashbacks are a sign that you haven't dealt mentally with what happened. They may not be harmful in themselves, but if you bottle up your emotions and don't speak to someone about what you went through, you will suffer for it in the end." He paused, assessing the girl's mood. "Which is why the headmistress and I think you could benefit from speaking with a healer."
"It's not that simple!" She argued, almost angry. "We can't just go around telling people about the stuff we did." Her eyes were welling up.
"Alright," He placated. "I can't force you to speak to anyone, but I need to check that you are physically well. You will tell me how many times you were under the Cruciatus and how long for. I will also need to know of any additional means of torture or harm Bellatrix used on you."
"I'm fine, Professor!" She argued adamantly.
"Granger," he threatened. "If you do not tell me, I will have you admitted to the hospital wing until Madam Pomfrey has performed a complete diagnostic health scan on you. This is non-negotiable."
Her lips pouted and she frowned petulantly. She glared at Snape but finally spoke reluctantly. "It's hard to remember exactly, given the circumstances." Her voice was quiet but unemotional. "I think it was either four or five times. I don't think she ever held me under for longer than a minute at a time, but it's hard to tell." She took a breath before continuing more confidently. "If you need a more exact time you'll have to ask Draco, or Narcissa I suppose, since they're the only ones who saw it who aren't dead or in Azkaban."
"Potter and Weasley weren't there?" He asked curiously.
"Not in the room." She shook her head then shrugged. "Though I'm guessing they heard my screams so maybe they could still tell you."
Her flippancy made Severus' stomach clench. He cleared his throat. "Do you get tremors?" She shook her head. "Only for a week or so after. Nothing since."
"What else did she do to you?"
"Nothing." Hermione looked into her lap and Severus knew she was lying.
"I will not accept lies or half-truths. I suggest you try again before I firecall Pomfrey."
Severus saw her eyes fill with tears.
"I'll tell you but you can't see it."
Snape nodded his agreement, at least if he had some sense of what happened to the girl, he could assess her needs better.
"She cut my arm with a knife." The girl was rubbing her left forearm subconsciously, so Severus assumed that was where she was cut. "The knife was cursed, I believe, so the scars won't heal."
"If you show me, I might be able to brew a lotion that will fade the scars." Snape urged.
"No." She was adamant. "You said I didn't have to show you."
"Very well." Severus acquiesced. "But come to me, or Madam Pomfrey, if you change your mind at any time." He narrowed his eyes at her until she nodded.
"I'd like to go now, Sir. May I leave, please?"
The last thing Severus wanted was to let the girl leave while she was this upset, but he couldn't make her stay. He would have to wait until their next meeting to discuss things further with her and, in the meantime, he hoped her friends would look after her.
"Very well, you may go." She began to rise. "I will see you at the same time in a fortnight, but you can speak with me any time before then if you wish to."
She nodded and gave him a polite smile. "Thank you, Professor." She said as though she genuinely appreciated the offer, although she had no intention of using it.
He allowed her to leave then and raised his eyes up to the ceiling in exhausted resignation.
He glanced at the Victorian clock on his mantel. He had just 20 minutes before Longbottom was due to arrive for his own meeting, and after debating the matter carefully in his own mind, Severus decided it would probably be unprofessional for him to consume a large measure of firewhiskey in the meantime.
And yet…
No change brought on by the war had been as dramatic as the transformation of Neville Longbottom. That is what Severus concluded from his observation of the young man before him. Where he would once have trembled and shaken before the Professor, now Longbottom spoke confidently as he conversed with him.
After a few minutes of talk about Longbottom's classes, Severus cleared his throat and spoke earnestly. "I owe you an apology, Longbottom, for the way you were treated last year."
"Not at all, Professor." He objected. "It wasn't your fault. It was the Carrows who hurt us, not you."
"Regardless, as headmaster it was my duty to protect the students here from harm, and that, I did not do."
"But you did everything you could!" Longbottom argued emphatically. "Even though you couldn't reveal your true loyalties, you stepped in before the Carrows could go too far."
"It wasn't enough!" Severus couldn't allow the boy to dismiss his apology. "They tortured you, and I did nothing!"
Neville frowned. "We were at war, Professor. This wasn't a school, it was a prison and a training camp for cruelty. You had a job to do which was more important than being headmaster, and yet the DA is well aware of the risks you took in protecting us regardless."
Snape huffed. "You will not accept my apology?"
Neville's face morphed into a lopsided grin and he shook his head. "Not for that."
The professor rolled his eyes. "Then will you accept my thanks?"
"Your thanks? For what, Sir?"
"Well, firstly, for doing my job last year when I couldn't. You taught your fellow students how to defend themselves, and protected those who couldn't." Severus' lips curved upwards a little. "And secondly, for beheading that blasted snake."
Neville let out a strong bark of laughter. "Yes, Sir, I'll accept your thanks for that."
"I do hope it was a spectacular end, Mr Longbottom? I was never informed of the details."
"Oh yes, Sir. Got it with one swipe of Gryffindor's sword."
"The Sword of Gryffindor? However did you get your hands on that?" Severus asked with open curiosity.
"Appeared to me, didn't it?" Neville shrugged as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Harry says it happened because 'Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who deserve it.'" He made the quotation marks by wiggling his fingers in the air. "And I was defying Voldemort at the time, you see?" Severus couldn't believe how casual the boy was about it. "So I saw the sword and just kinda grabbed it and ran at the snake." He shrugged again. "And everyone was distracted 'cause Harry's body suddenly disappeared."
"His body?" Severus asked confused and Neville's brow rose in surprise.
"No one told you about the final battle?"
"I was in St Mungo's for a period." He explained. "Any visitors I had avoided discussing the final battle; either because they did not want to upset me in my recovery or because it was too painful for themselves. I had Professor McGonagall inform me of the deaths from both sides, of course, and I've picked up on other events in my conversations with her since then, but evidently there is much I have missed." Severus frowned, he hadn't realised that there were still significant parts of the battle that he wasn't aware of. But then, Severus guessed that very few people had the full story of what had occurred that night.
"I wonder, Mr Longbottom, if you would tell me your account of the final battle?" He examined Longbottom's face for his reaction, but the boy gave nothing away. "I realise that's not an insignificant ask, and I wouldn't expect you to do so tonight, but I would be very grateful to you." Severus spoke sincerely.
The boy didn't respond immediately, but Severus chose to give him chance to think.
"Okay." Longbottom said simply after a period. "I'll tell you what happened from my end."
"Thank you, I appreciate that very much."
"Not tonight though." Longbottom scratched his head. "I'm going to need some time to get it straight in my own head. Haven't really thought about it since it happened, you know?"
Severus nodded, understanding completely. "Of course. We shall be meeting again in 2 weeks' time, will that be acceptable to you?"
"Sure." Neville agreed, good-naturedly. "That's fine."
They spoke for a while longer on less somber topics, Longbottom telling Snape all about his future plans for a career in Herbology. Severus couldn't believe that out of all the 8th years, Neville Longbottom was the easiest to converse with. The boy was open and relaxed, and Severus found himself looking forward to their next meeting, not just because he would learn more about the battle, but because he knew Longbottom would speak the absolute truth as he saw it, without embellishment or judgement.
When Neville saw Snape eyeing him critically just as he was leaving, the boy leaned back warily. "What?"
Severus snapped out of his reflections and waved his hand dismissively. "Nothing, I was just thinking how changed you are from before the war."
The boy grinned and sent a pointed look back at the Professor, leaving his parting words behind him before he slipped out the door. "I'm not the only one."