When Hermione Granger was eight years old, her parents had an epic fight.
They thought she didn't notice, but she was a very smart child. She knew that her parents loved each other, is just they are only were too stubborn to back down and apologize. So, going against the teachings of the Catholic church that she attended with her grandmother on Sundays, she lie to them.
She pretended to be sick for two whole days, making her parents worry about her and forget that they were mad at each other. She knew it would work because they loved each other and, above that, they loved her. And it worked.
From that day on she felt it was right to give a little push for people to make up.
So she was completely sure that sending that letter was the right thing to do. But I'm getting ahead of myself ... Where did we really stop? Oh yes, the night she drank too much and kissed a teacher.
The day dawned sunny, with a cloud-free sky and a gentle breeze. But as soon as Ginny Weasley opened the curtains to let in the light, Hermione protested. Her head was aching and all she wanted to do was stay in the dark forever. Or, at least, until the pain was gone.
"You have to get up and I need to air the bedroom. It stinks of alcohol and vomit!"
I have throw up? Hermione inhaled deeply and coughed a few times, drowning in the strong odor and controlling a gag reflex. She only didn't throw up again because there was nothing left to get out of his stomach.
"Oh, no." She sat up abruptly, her hands holding her tangled curls. The memories of last night came back to she in disorganized flashes and it looked all horrible. She had vomited on Snape; Ron saying he was not on the same page as her in their relationship; she was drunk in the halls singing out of tune and... more vomit.
"What did I do?"
"I want to know that, too." Ginny said, pulling her by the arms to get out of bed. "You arrived here in Snape's arms! There was vomit on him and, worse than that, lipstick."
"Lipstick?", Hermione asked as she was dragged to the bathroom, she didn't remember Snape wearing lipstick.
"Yes. Your lipstick!" Ginny pointed to the mirror and Hermione understood what she was talking about. Her mouth was all smudged with red lipstick because she had made out with Professor Snape before she vomited on him. "Take a shower, a hangover potion and some chame on your face. Then you will tell me everything that happened yesterday. Everything!"
Ginny returned to the room when Hermione was finishing drying her hair.
"Two muffins and one pumpkin juice. It was all I managed to get off the table without drawing attention. So we're going to have to share the juice."
"Actually, I'm not hungry."
"You are hungry! You have a hangover, eating will be calm your stomach." She sat on the bed and patted her in front of her, inviting Hermione to sit there. When her friend sat down and took the first bite of the mufin, Ginny asked what she needed to know: "What happened to your romantic night?"
"Well, it went wrong. I thought that your brother and I were ready to take another step, but he wasn't. In a nutshell he broke up with me- very politely and using eloquent arguments-, which left me confused. He has clearly been working on this speech for some time. So I just stayed there, looking silly."
"Wow, I'm sorry. You planned this night for so long!"
She had planned every detail. She decorated the restricted room on the 3rd floor with roses and aromatic candles, bought an elegant and sexy dress, did a thorough waxing, bought condoms and Ron's favorite champagne. Even a damn red lipstick she wore to please him.
She was still a virgin and was finally feeling ready to start sex with Ron. She had read books and tried to memorize positions she found interesting. But Ron barely let the night begin and a two-year relationship ended in five minutes.
"How can he break up with me, Ginny?" There were tears in his eyes and his chin was beginning to shake. She knew that if she started to cry she wouldn't be able to stop, so she took a deep breath to control herself.
"Perhaps he is confused ..."
"Was not. He meant it, really. Ron does not love me romantically, he said I am a sister to him and we are not "on the same page"."
"I'm sorry, Mione." The redhead shook her hand for a few seconds and Hermione cried silently, feeling grateful to have someone to talk to about the matter. She didn't want to talk to Harry about it, in the past few years, whenever she and Ron had a fight, Harry had to be between them and it was wearing them out. She no longer wanted it that way. "But that was not the end of your night. How the hell did you get here with Snape? And why was his mouth smeared with lipstick?"
"I kissed Snape! "Her voice was shrill with crying, which became sobs. And Ginny started to laugh at how absurd it was.
"Hell, how did you get that?"
"I do not know. I had that damned expensive champagne and started drinking. I went to the astronomy tower because I needed to scream and cry alone, but Snape was there." Hermione wiped the tears from her face and laughed out loud. "He took points from Gryffindor when he realized I was drunk, obviously, and we kind of argued why he took my champagne ... so, I don't know how or why, we kissed."
"Whose initiative?" the friend wanted to know, happy to see Hermione stop crying.
"I don't know, I don't remember exactly. But I clearly remember throwing up at him."
"And what did you do next?"
"I pretended I passed out." She whispered. Making Ginny burst out laughing. "What else could I do ?! Even stoned as I was, I was very ashamed. It was humiliating!"
"And then he had to carry you on his arms of the astronomy tower over here? All dirty with vomit and the mouth marked by your lipstick?"
"Seeing you talk like that, it seems like fainting was not a good idea. In my defense, I thought he was going to leave me there, passed out. I didn't think he was going to carry me. I mean, not in his arms, right? He threw me on his shoulder, I felt like a bag of potatoes."
Hermione tried to imagine the scene and all she could feel was shame. How, for the seven skies, could she face Professor Snape's class now? How could she look at him?
"It was the worst idea you ever had, you need to apologize."
Severus Snape spent what was left of the night with her in his thoughts. He ran into the shower as soon as he entered his room and his shoulder ached from carrying Hermione Granger. Should he have left the girl unconscious in the astronomy tower? No, no. As Slytherin as it was, leaving the girl passed out in a puddle of vomit would not be tolerable.
He was tired when he lay down on his cotton sheets, but he couldn't sleep.
Her lips were on his mind. The kiss, delicate and soft, was disturbing the potions master. How could he look at the damn Granger with the same eyes after what happened?
She was a beautiful woman and Snape had been betrayed by his own eyes a few times before. He had admired the shape of her curls over and over again, her well-drawn lips and even the way she moved her hips when walking. Really, its not a big deal, just permeating his thoughts on how beautiful Hermione Granger had become. Totally your type of woman. But they were distant thoughts, nothing but totally innocent echoes. But now ...
Now he had tasted her lips. And he liked it.
As little as he knew, Granger was in some sort of relationship with the Weasley brat. Why was she in that situation then? She was dressed for a date, to be sure, but something must have gone wrong between her and her little boyfriend.
"It was none of your business. It was none of your business." He couldn't let those thoughts evolve. Last night shouldn't be mentioned anymore and he wouldn't allow himself to think of Hermione Granger like that.
He realized that this task would be difficult the next day, when Gryffindor and Slytherin classes began.
All the students were there, except for her. His eyes were betraying him and from minute to minute they were glued to the door, waiting for her to come in with her messy curly hair and carrying more books than was necessary.
When she finally arrived, apologizing for the delay, he tried to pretend disinterest, discounting 5 points from Gryffindor and telling her to sit down.
"He didn't take his eyes off the door!" Ginny Weasley whispered, Snape was almost sure. He was good at lip reading.
"You want to share something with the class, Miss. Weasley?"
"Oh no. I just need to borrow a feather. Mine is pointless."
Granger certainly told Miss Weasley about last night. How great, all he needed was to be laughed at by the know-it-all friends!
He tried to teach his class normally, disconnecting from last night's events, but was slightly obsessed with the way Hermione Granger looked sadly at boy Weasley and the way she avoided looking at him. Clearly ashamed of what she had done, he knew.
In his hands the lesson plan indicated that it was the day to teach about the magical properties of ararambóia and the consequences of its use in wizards with easy stomach irritability. But he, the Slytherin he was, decided to provoke the know-it-all and set the whole class to prepare a capillary potion.
What positive thing would that add to the learning of those young people? Nothing. But for Hermione Granger it would be torturous because ...
"Oh My, this smells like vomit!"
Yes. Smell of vomit to force her to remember what she did last night.
"The smell is unpleasant, Pattison, we all understand. It looks like someone threw up on me, "he commented innocently, looking deliberately at Hermione. "Five points for the Slytherin for your comment ... Insightful" he was happy to see that the witch was looking at the cauldron with red cheeks in shame.
When class ended, all the students ran out the door to escape the unbearable smell. He went to the door himself and stood there waiting for the smell to dissipate. The only one that didn't move from the place was Granger. She kept her belongings patiently, giving time for everyone else to leave and she was left alone with Snape.
"Come on, Granger, I have another class in ten minutes," he hurried on, hoping she would be gone soon. But he knew, because he had known her since the girl was eleven, that she would want to apologize for last night. What did she do:
"I'm sorry about last night," the witch said quickly, placing the heavy backpack over one shoulder.
"For what, exactly, Granger?"
"Well, for what happened. I..."
"And what happened?" He was really going to make her talk, right?
"I-I planned a night out with my boyfriend. I mean, ex-boyfriend. And it didn't go as I planned because apparently we weren't on the same page of the relationship and ..." Snape crossed his arms against his chest and his face showed nothing but irritation. "And you don't want to know about that." She stopped talking. Biting her lower lip hard and taking a few seconds to decide how to start apologizing again.
"When you know what you want to apologize for, Miss. Granger, I will be willing to listen. Until then, can you please spare me your presence?"
She left the room with her head down and slightly offended, and Snape slammed the door as soon as she crossed the threshold. But he immediately regretted that the smell of vomit was indeed unbearable.
At least Granger's words had the effect of taking the kiss off his head. The young witch was having a fight with her boyfriend and the drinking was due to sour grapes. The kiss meant nothing and maybe she didn't even remember, he couldn't let this perturbing his mind.
It was just pointless saliva exchange and a 40-year-old man had to be mature enough not to be upset about it.
In fact, the situation with Granger had served as a distraction for something bigger that he was trying to avoid.
The day before, on the morning of his birthday, he had received two letters. One from Megan Riley and one from his mother. It had been 22 years since he'd spoken to Eillen Snape and he wanted it to stay that way. Why had his mother sent him that letter? What could she mean? He hadn't had the courage to open it and was avoiding thinking about it. But perhaps it would be better for him to read at once and deal with whatever was written.
Hermione was almost thankful that she had detention to do that night. Her heart was breaking and seeing Ron looking at her with those pity-filled eyes was suffocating her all day. She would have found an excuse to skip classes for the day, but the N.E.W.T. were close and he couldn't afford to lose content. She took his studies very seriously. At least she had the perfect excuse to skip dinner without looking like a wretch who was suffering from love. What she was, deeply.
So she didn't care that Snape had told her to clean the 5th and 6th floor broom cabinets. No magic, obviously.
Snape ... She still owed him an apology, but she had no idea how to do that. Maybe she should write a note and leave it under his door? That would be a fearful and childish act. No. She was already 19 years old, she had to face things head on.
And Snape no longer had the same power over her, she was no longer afraid of him. Because she knew him, because she knew he was a good person who had been through a lot of difficult things all his life. Harry had told her everything he had seen in the pensieve and that had forever changed everything he thought about Severus Snape. Perhaps, if she were free to speak to him openly, she would suggest that the obscure master do some good therapy sessions. He certainly needed to learn to be more sociable. But the wizard's temperament did not change the fact that she should apologize to him.
She would do that. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but she definitely would ... before leaving Hogwarts, maybe. Who was she kidding? She wasn't going to be able to get that story out of her head until she apologized. The next time she found him, she would apologize. Quick and objective. If he didn't accept her apology, it would be his problem, not hers.
It was not past 10 pm when she was finished and her stomach was snoring audibly.
He passed one or two ghosts on the way to the kitchen and, when she arrived, tickled the pear to be able to enter.
Some house elves were there, doing dishes or chopping up ingredients that would be used in the next recipe. And Snape. Sitting at the end of the table, with a cup of tea in front of him and a parchment in his hands. He was writing something there carefully and Hermione had the impression that his eyes were watery. But she wasn't sure, it was at least five meters away.
"Miss Granger!" Dobby jumped up on the table and ran with his little feet to her. "How nice to see you here! Dobby was missing you, he was missing you! Did you like the socks I got from Master Snape?" He asked, pointing to the socks he was wearing. They were Slytherin green and had the name Snape embroidered, a gift Molly had given him for Christmas. She knew he would never use that!
"The socks look great, Dobby."
With Dobby's effusive greeting, every eye in the kitchen turned to her. Elves started whispering to each other and two of them ran away in fear. S.P.E.W. it never worked and Hermione was a bogeyman for the elves.
Snape folded the parchment he was reading quickly and put it in his robes, looking more sad than angry when he noticed the young woman's presence.
"Is being out of bed late of night is about to become a habit, Granger? It will take away all the points of your house. " His voice was a little choked and he cleared his throat.
"I'm a prefect, I can stay out of the dorm until midnight," she said, cautiously approaching and sitting down next to him. When she saw that he had not thrown her out, she asked Dobby to prepare a sandwich and hot chocolate. Something the elf always did for her when she was studying late.
"Do you accept a sandwich, Master Snape? Dobby knows how to do it very well!"
"Thank you, Dobby, but I'm not hungry."
"I finished the cabinets," Hermione said after a long silence. "If you want to check ...
"Filch certainly will, Granger.
"Certainly... You didn't really like Molly's gift, did you?" She asked, pointing at Dobby's feet with her chin, just to start a conversation, break the ice, but it didn't help. Snape just raised an eyebrow at her. Then he drank the rest of his tea, thanked Dobby and got up to leave.
On impulse, Hermione grabbed his forearm. Forcing Snape to stop and look at her.
"I'm sorry," she said. The eyes on his. "For yesterday. For the kiss, for the vomit and for pretending I passed out."
"Did you pretend to pass out?" The black eyes widened a little, surprised, and Hermione bit her bottom lip, looking at his feet.
"I am really sorry."
"I bet you do." He took her hand from his arm and resumed his walk.
"Wait!",the witch almost shouted, getting up and going after him. "Am I forgiven? You know me, I really won't be able to let this story go until you forgive me."
"It's okay, Granger!" He said irritably, turning around suddenly. Hermione was too close, and when he turned around, the girl hit him hard against the chest, the impact causing her to fall on her ass on the floor. The scene seemed to amuse Snape. It was difficult to say since the man never smiled, but the eyes, Hermione was almost sure, were laughing.
Snape hesitated for a second, but reached out to her and helped her to her feet.
"You have warm hands," she commented aloud, almost unavoidably, and Snape pulled his hand away, uncomfortable with the comment.
"I hope the situation from last night will not be repeated."
"Will not!" she promised.
"Good, then everything is fine. Good night." He bowed quickly and turned away from her. "Don't tell Molly about the socks!" He asked after a few steps, without turning around.
"Okay, I won't tell her," replied the witch, but she was pretty sure he hadn't heard, as the kitchen door was already closing on the man's back.
She felt a little relieved to be able to apologize to Snape and now she no longer had to worry about him. But what she didn't know is that in the next few days Snape would become the center of her concern.
When she went back to the table she saw a scroll on the floor. She knew at once that it was the scroll that Snape was writing when she arrived, the one that he hid in a hurry and that seemed to have messed with him.
She knew she shouldn't read it, but she was more curious and, at the risk of being stunned by Snape, she read it.
It was a letter from Eillen Prince Snape, Professor Snape's mother. A short letter, in which she said in a nutshell that it had been 22 years since she had seen her son and that she missed him. That they needed to talk about something important, and that if he allowed it, she would go to Hogwarts to talk to him.
Scrawled under Eillen's signature was Snape's reply: "Don't bother. We have nothing to say to each other. "
Her heart sank and she couldn't sleep well at night.
Mother and son should talk to each other! Twenty-two years is too long ... Whatever has happened between them should have been overcome. Snape could be quite proud, she knew that and felt she needed to help him ... How he helped his parents make amends, how he helped Harry get back in touch with his uncles ... Family was important. Snape needed her help to see this.
Then the next morning, going beyond the limit of common sense, she answered Eillen's letter on his behalf.
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