That was how Hermione found herself outside his office door. She didn't know where his private quarters were, but she knew McGonagall's were through her office, so she hoped it was the same set up for the head of Slytherin. Taking a deep, calming breath, she knocked on the door and waited.
There was no answer. She really should have left at that point. She knew her presence would not be welcome and had no idea what she would even say to him, but the injustice of the whole thing made it impossible for her to just walk away. She knocked again, more loudly. Then again. And again. And then again and again and again until she was pounding on his door with both fists feeling like a complete lunatic.
He wrenched his door open and glared at her, his black eyes wild, looking every inch the maniac she had felt herself not seconds earlier. His greasy hair was all over the place; some partially tucked behind his ear, some protruding at awkward angels from the top of his head and some plastered over his face, stuck to the sweat that glistened on his sallow cheeks. It made her feel like she had rather tameable hair for one bizarre moment. She got a strong whiff of alcohol next which was rather alarming in combination with his appearance, and all she could do was stare at this man who looked about as far as anyone possibly could from her Potions Professor, while still actually being the same person.
"Well?" He asked her and his lack of anger was almost more alarming.
"Umm…" She responded, suddenly feeling like a complete and utter fool. What on earth was she supposed to say to him? She hadn't planned anything; she'd just leapt from her bed and rushed down here like the brave, stupid, reckless Gryffindor that she was.
"Well I – umm – I came to see if you were alright." She caught a glimpse of his eyes widening, his expression a mix of surprise and scepticism before he slammed the door unceremoniously in her face. Not stopping to think, she began hammering on his door once more; whatever it was that was so troubling her Professor, it was painfully clear that he was very far removed from being "alright".
"WHAT?" He shrieked as he threw the door open once more. Well that was more like it.
"You're obviously not alright." She told him honestly, and braced herself for his verbal, or possibly physical assault given his behaviour and the strong smell of alcohol on him. But it didn't come. When she dared to meet his eyes she discovered he was just staring at her, a slight frown marring his expression as he silently studied her. Hermione felt the need to fill the long silence that had settled between them.
"And I um, I thought you might like to know what happened to Sirius?" She added. That certainly got a reaction. The mad gleam returned to his eyes and he seized the front of her robes.
"SO YOU DID HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH IT! I KNEW IT – I KNEW YOU AND POTTER WERE INVOLVED I KNEW IT!" Spit was flying from his mouth at a distressing rate and he began to drag her down the corridor.
"The Headmaster will be VERY interested to hear about this I'm sure, helping a convicted murderer escape, no way will you and you're little friends get away with this." His voice had gone very quiet now, the kind of deathly quiet that all students associated with impending doom although there was a slight waver to his voice that she suspected was from triumph.
"Please Professor," Hermione whispered breathlessly, struggling to walk alongside him as he was still clutching her robes in a vicelike grip. "The Headmaster already knows. He was the one who told us to help him escape. Well he didn't exactly tell us but it was very strongly implied and he congratulated us when we told him we'd done it –" She stopped talking abruptly as Snape had stopped in his tracks, he was staring at her with an intensity that frightened her and he leaned very close to her face.
"What did you say?" He breathed and she could clearly smell the firewhiskey on his breath.
"I said that Professor Dumbledore already knows sir," she told him quietly, not entirely sure what to make of his reaction, "he was the one that came up with a plan - well it wasn't really a plan – but it was his idea, sort of." He continued to stare at her.
"And Sirius really didn't kill anyone sir, he was framed, Professor Dumbledore believed him, and us, that's why he suggested it." She finished, starring back at him in confusion. Snape's face was blank but there was something that looked suspiciously like pain lurking in the depths of his obsidian eyes.
"I'll tell you everything sir, it's the least I can do after you tried to save us." She continued earnestly. "I know you probably won't believe me though, but I was reading in the Library a few days ago and I came across a rather obscure branch of magic," She looked up at him once more, expecting him to interrupt but he was still gazing at her unseeingly. "It's called Legilimency, I'm sure you've heard of it, actually I was wondering if you're accomplished at it, that would explain how you can normally tell when someone's lying? Anyway, I thought that – perhaps - you could use it on me so you could see what really happened and get the full story?" She watched for his reaction apprehensively but she needn't have worried, he blinked at her twice, released her robes and then swept away from her in a billowing of black cloak. Pausing only for a split second, Hermione followed him at a jog.
And that was how she found herself in his living room, if it could really be called that, it was rather dark even with the torches lit and there were no windows, only two small armchairs, one of which was a lot more worn than the other, a small coffee table and shelves of books lined the walls from floor to ceiling. Wow.
Before Hermione could properly take in her surroundings Professor Snape turned towards her suddenly, roughly grasping her chin, his wand pointed directly at her and she braced herself for his inevitable invasion, but he paused for a second, staring at her mutely, his face hesitant despite the obvious dislike etched onto his harsh features and she understood; he was giving her a chance to run or scream or hex him. So she nodded, and then he was inside her, his presence like a weight in her head and image after imaged raced through her mind at random, finally focusing on her, Ron and Harry knocking Snape out. No said a voice inside her head, from the beginning. And so they were watching Ron run from the invisibility cloak, the events of that night flickering forward faster, slowing down at certain points and she felt again the sheer terror of seeing Sirius for the first time, the betrayal of Lupin being there, the confusion at what was being said, the guilt at harming Snape, the horror that was Peter Pettigrew, the crippling fear of Lupin transformed, the hopelessness when no one would believe her and Harry, and the mad, adrenaline filled, Buckbeak-Sirius rescue, all of it, everything over again.
He withdrew from her mind, and sank, boneless into the more worn chair leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands shaking. Hermione lowered herself onto the coffee table opposite him, feeling utterly exhausted for the first time that night. She used this rare, unguarded moment, where her Professor didn't seem entirely mad, to properly study him. He looked shattered, and not the type of shattered someone looks after a long day or a bad night; he looked like he hadn't had a decent night's sleep in months and although his eyes were downcast, there was something around their edges that reminded Hermione of a photo of a war veteran she'd seen when she was very young. They contained a certain depth or dimension that most eyes didn't, a sort of haunting that really didn't belong there.
Her eyes were drawn back to his shaking hands, he was constantly clenching and unclenching them, whether in an effort to stop the shaking or to control his anger -fear? No anger, surely anger? - she didn't know, but it was disturbing to see this unshakeable man, well - shaking.
He reached down and picked a bottle of Ogden's firewhiskey – with a copious amount already missing – and poured a large helping into a glass which he downed like pumpkin juice.
"You are dismissed Miss Granger." Snape said, his voice sounding hollow.
"Yes sir." She replied, automatically standing up. Then she paused as he poured himself another large glass and downed it in one.
"I said you are dismissed you silly girl." He said, and poured a third glass, glaring at her defiantly. She didn't move. As he lifted the amber liquid to his mouth a shudder seemed to run through him and, in combination with his shaking hands, he spilled a large amount down his robes.
"DAMMIT." He yelled, looking entirely demented once more.
"GET OUT GRANGER! OUT!" And he stood and threw the glass at the wall behind her, shattering it completely and glass flew everywhere. He sank unsteadily back onto the chair and ran his hands through his hair, ruffling it even more. Hermione stood frozen. She wanted to leave, he was scaring her more than she'd like to admit, but she'd come to see if he was okay, and he clearly wasn't. So she couldn't leave. She couldn't. She took a deep breath and summoned the some of the courage her house was famous for. With a wave of her wand and a muttered spell she cleared away the broken glass and sat down in front of him once more. He regarded her carefully.
"Why are you here?" He asked her, his voice a little rough. She sighed.
"You're obviously not alright." She answered with a slight shrug, echoing her words from earlier.
"Get out." He breathed, but they both knew she wasn't leaving. He sneered at her, and it was a bit of a relief to see such a familiar expression back on his face. At length he conjured another glass and began drinking once more; Hermione didn't dare say anything, and so she sat and watched her Professor get more and more intoxicated.
"What did Sirius do to you?" She dared to ask him, well after midnight.
"He tried to kill me." He answered. His speech a little slurred.
"How?" She responded, emboldened by his response.
"It was sixth year, I was curious as to what happened to Lupin every month, obviously I had my suspicions. Black tricked me into going down to the Shrieking Shack at a full moon. I saw Lupin transformed down there." Came his emotionless reply.
"You could have died!" Hermione gasped.
"Obviously." He drawled, those 4 syllables making her disproportionately stupid.
"But he was punished?" She asked, sensing his answer before he gave it.
"Dumbledore gave him … detention. And I was sworn to secrecy." The alcohol was obviously loosening his tongue considerably; there was no way he would have told her any of this otherwise.
"That's not very fair."
"Life rarely is. And besides I was never the favourite, I was a Slytherin with an extensive knowledge of Dark magic, why would Dumbledore, the ultimate Gryffindor, side with me? Even now, even after all these years where I've given him nothing but my loyalty, he still sided with Black, a convicted murderer, over me. AND had a nice little joke with his new favourite Gryffindors at my expense, *'Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once'. *" He spat the last few words out, his harsh drawl a cruel imitation of the Headmaster, the words seemingly ripped out of him, almost against his will.
Hermione said nothing, she had a huge amount of respect for Dumbledore but she couldn't help but feel uneasy at Snape's story. He had seemed to find Snape's anger rather amusing looking back, his eyes had been twinkling as he's looked at her and Harry, as if they'd been in on a joke together, but she was sure it hadn't been at Snape's expense, and not maliciously at all…
Snape poured another drink and downed it quickly, leaning back on the armchair and regarding her with scared eyes.
"Why won't you leave?" He whispered, his tone sounding confused and desperate in a way that deeply unsettled her all the way down to the bottom of her stomach and she stared at her hands clasped in her lap, trying to think of something she could say, knowing she couldn't reassure him, but urgently wanting to. When she looked back up she was spared the necessity of speech; he was asleep in his chair, his arms wrapped around himself protectively and a slight shiver ran through him. Well that's why you shouldn't drink so much she thought harshly, then immediately felt guilty as she remembered the cut on his head, did he have concussion, could that be what was making him cold? She didn't remember Madam Pomfrey treating him, but then she couldn't imagine someone like Snape ever seeking treatment unless they were on the verge on death.
She sighed once more, feeling immensely troubled as she regarded her sleeping Professor. He shouldn't have let her stay, admittedly she hadn't given him a huge amount of choice but when he was his usual self, she felt sure he would have found a way to make her leave. Well, if he was his usual self there wouldn't have been any reason for her to stay. He was obviously still deeply troubled by the injustice of the "werewolf incident" as Hermione had name it, and she couldn't say she blamed him, what he had told her made her view Dumbledore in a different light, which in and of itself was troubling; he'd always seemed so jovial and kind, the perfect sort of Grandfather figure with an undercurrent of impressive magical power. Not to mention she was now seeing Snape in a different light; he was most decidedly human, right down to his alcohol breath. She looked at him again and he shivered. Hermione sighed, she was starting to feel like a deflating balloon, and conjured a large blanket, placing in gingerly around his sleeping form. She considered taking his shoes off but decided she didn't have a death wish; he was sure to be hideous enough when he woke up without the added embarrassment of her undressing him, and he would definitely be extremely hung-over. Slipping her own shoes off, she conjured one more blanket and wrapped it around herself as she settled into the second armchair. She would leave once Professor Snape was alright enough to throw her out, and dock a huge amount of house points, and probably give her detention just for good measure.
She sighed, and slipped into an exhausted sleep.
So here's chapter 2, this was a lot longer than I was intending it to be; it just wouldn't end! Hope you enjoy it, I'm hoping to keep up the fast pace of uploading new chapters for a bit to get the story going but then I may have to slow down a little as reality gets in my way sometimes ;)
** Text taken directly from Prisoner of Azkaban.