This is dedicated to Sarah and Oni. I love you both very much.
Ilvermorny
Year 5
Round 8
Theme: Spinner's End
Look at the experience of half-bloods, or those that live in two worlds at the same time.
1. Best of both worlds
3. Question of belonging
4. Hiding your identity
5. Bringing something together
6. Finding similarities
7. Representing two worlds
8. Gaining new perspectives
Main prompt: 12. [Plot point] Unlikely friendship
Optional prompts:
2. [Setting] Muggle playground
7. [Word] Superior
The Houses Competition
Gryffindor
Defence Against the Dark Arts
Round 1: Escape
Standard
Prompt: 7. [Song] Human by Christina Perri
Betaed by Aethra, Shini,Tiggs, Amanda, Viola and Hailey. Thank you so much!
AN: The story could be seen as a moment in between, it doesn't break canon.
Word count: 2989
Hermione didn't like Cokeworth, not because she didn't like visiting her grandparents, but because certain neighbourhood kids enjoyed teasing her, as did her cousins when they visited. Her parents had told her that it was because they were jealous, but Hermione knew better. She was different.
Ever since she was little, she could do things other kids couldn't, and she didn't mean getting the best marks. Sometimes if she got angry, wind would appear from nowhere, and once, the vase in the living room had randomly broken. Her parents didn't know about many of the incidents that occurred; she didn't want to worry them. However, the other children had noticed that something was wrong with her. They teased her about it. They joked that she thought she was better than them, when she was just a freak. But they were wrong. She didn't see herself as superior to them; she just liked studying. She wasn't a machine, was she? She was just like them.
Hermione pushed forward because she didn't know what else to do. Her parents suffered, she could see that, hating that she didn't have any friends. They'd started to spend less time in Cokeworth during the summer, opting instead to go abroad for holidays, where no one knew Hermione.
One good thing she liked about Cokeworth was the playground beyond her grandparents' house. They lived near the forest, and the playground blended with the trees. Other children didn't go there. Being nine, Hermione considered herself old enough to swing by herself and play with her green ball.
However, unlike the previous summer when she and her grandmother had gone to the playground together, Hermione found it occupied—someone was sitting in her favourite swing! Moving closer, she noticed it wasn't one of the children, and she breathed a sigh of relief. At the same time, she became wary. The 'someone' was a grown-up! A male grownup. Her parents had warned her about strangers.
Standing behind the slide so he couldn't see her, Hermione analysed him. She knew the right thing to do would be to leave, but if she left, she knew her parents wouldn't let her come back. She needed to be alone; she wanted to see what else she could do.
So Hermione observed the strange man in her favourite swing. Wasn't he too old for a children's playground? He was tall and had long, dark hair. He was also dressed in black in the middle of the summer! It was weird, more so that his eyes seemed to be full of sadness.
Maybe he'd played in the playground when he'd been little? Or was he sad because he was alone like her? Did he have to pretend like she did, smiling when she felt like crying instead?
Hermione frowned. What should she do? Although she knew she should leave, she couldn't shake the thought that perhaps he needed a friend, too.
She quickly looked around. The playground was empty sans them, appearing no different than last year. The only slight differences were that the slide she was hiding behind was a bit more yellow, and the swings were a shade more covered in copper. Everything was the same, except for the man's presence.
Tightening her grip on her ball, Hermione took a step forward. If he wasn't a good man, she'd scream for her parents; she knew they'd be listening out for her. If that didn't work, she'd focus the wind on him or try to break him like the vase in the living room.
Quietly, she approached the swings. He sensed her anyway, and looked up. She stopped two metres away from him and gave him a smile. He looked sad, but he also looked scared. Was he scared of her?
"Hello Mister! Are you sad?"
He blinked, looking surprised by her question. He began to stand.
"No, stay," she said. "That's my favourite swing. It always makes me feel better if I swing in it. Do you want me to push you?"
"I think I may be too heavy for you," he said with a chuckle.
He had a deep voice, and although he didn't look sad any longer, Hermione realised he was pretending to be okay because she'd asked him. Of course, she could push him if she used wind power, but she couldn't tell him that. He seemed to like her; she didn't want him running away if he saw what she could do.
"Do you wanna play ball with me?"
He cocked his head to the side. "Play ball with you?"
"Yes. See?" She held up her green ball before throwing it. "Catch!"
He caught it and then threw it back to her, still sitting on the swing. "Maybe another day," he murmured.
Hermione smiled at him. "Okay."
She went and sat down in the swing next to him.
"I haven't seen you before. Are you new?"
"I'm anything but new," he said, his tone sharp. "Where are your parents, little girl?"
She shrank back at his change in tone.
"I'm not little. I'm nine, almost ten. My parents are close by." She pointed to her grandparents' house.
"Marie and Robert Granger?" He looked pensive.
Hermione perked up. "Do you know them?"
"I grew up here." He turned his gaze away, his eyes sad again.
"I'm Hermione." She jumped off the swing and stood in front of him, her hand extended.
He looked at her hand as though it was something alien. After a few seconds, he extended his own long, pale hand.
"Severus."
"Severus! That's a Roman name, isn't it? I like it!"
He seemed amused by her enthusiasm. "You'd be the first. I think Hermione is a fitting name for a young lady like yourself."
"You'd be the first to think that, too," she retorted, and something that she couldn't pinpoint shifted in his eyes.
"You shouldn't be alone, even if you're nine. Who knows who you'll meet?"
She grinned at him. "I met you!"
"Yes, and I could be a very bad man. Haven't your parents told you not to speak with strangers?"
"They did, but I watched you first. Bad men don't look sad; they never are. It seemed you needed a friend."
He snorted at her, watching her with incredulous eyes.
"You watched me and decided I'm not a bad man? That was it? You want to be my friend?"
"Yes."
"I think you should go home. I'm leaving."
Hermione blanched at his tone. He sounded mean. Why was he still pretending to be okay?
"I came here to have fun since I am leaving Cokeworth tomorrow. You can leave now if you want; I'm staying." She huffed and sat back on her swing.
She put the ball on the ground and tried to make herself go up in the air.
Suddenly, the swing moved faster. She looked up; Severus was pushing it from the side. Hermione smiled at him.
"So, you're not from Cokeworth?"
"No, I'm visiting. I'll come next year, too for a couple of days. But in two years I won't. We have our big family reunion every five years. I didn't like the last one—or so my parents said—so we're not coming." Hermione didn't say that it was because she didn't fit in with her cousins and their need to prove they were superior to her.
Severus went quiet, but continued to push her swing for a while. Afterwards, he said he needed to leave, and insisted that she should, too.
"Only if you play ball with me next year."
For the first time, he smiled and nodded.
"If you remember," he muttered, so low that he probably thought she couldn't hear him.
But Hermione heard him, and next year, for the first time since she could remember, she looked forward to her visit in Cokeworth. She had a friend! Old as he may be, he was better than no friends at all. Besides, she could discuss with him his opinion on Jane Eyre or Henry VIII.
"Look who it is! Weird bossy Granger!"
Hermione gritted her teeth, determined to ignore them. She'd hoped she wouldn't meet up with the other kids, but it wasn't to be; they'd found her playground.
"Done any more freakish things?"
"Oooh! Everyone run! Windy will break us all! She always ruins our fun."
She felt tears in her eyes, but she willed herself not to cry. She couldn't show them how much their words hurt her. Last year, they'd tricked her into playing with them, saying they'd changed. When they'd tried to hit her with their ball, however, it had exploded and a strong gust of wind had pushed them all away from her. Why wasn't she like them? A child? A human being? What hurt the most was that they were right; she did do freakish things.
"Maybe she ought to pay! You've got nowhere to hide. No more granny nanny with you!"
Hermione saw them all coming upon her. She had nowhere to run. They were right; this time, she was alone.
"What do you think you're doing? Leave her alone, you insolent brats!"
They turned upon hearing the harsh voice—a voice that she hadn't heard in over a year. They froze in fear upon seeing the man it belonged to. Hermione, however, smiled. He'd come, even if she hadn't told him the exact date when she'd arrive.
"Get out of here before I take you all to your parents!"
To her surprise, they all ran away as fast as they could.
"Are you alright?" Severus asked her, picking up the ball she'd dropped when they'd cornered her.
She nodded. "I am now. Thank you! They seemed to know you. Do you live here? I've never seen you before last year."
Severus frowned. "I spend most of the year away."
"Where do you live? Why did they look so scared?"
He sighed and shook his head.
"Merlin, you ask so many questions. I live on Spinner's End. My name is Severus Snape. I'm certain your grandparents had warned you about me."
Hermione blanched. They had indeed. They'd told her how he resembled his father, how he was a very strange man, and how he was very dangerous, evil even. They said he'd always been in bad company when he was a teenager, and she should never go to Spinner's End. They'd advised that if she saw him to go in the other direction.
However to Hermione, he didn't look like the man her grandparents had described. He didn't look evil, he looked… human. Maybe a human with a temper who was closed off, but certainly not a bad person. Last year, he'd been as sad as her and now, he'd saved her.
"They did," she eventually said. "But now you're my friend. Thank you for stepping in."
Severus seemed to analyse her face, to see if she was telling the truth. In the end, he smiled and threw her the ball.
"I think you owe me a game."
Hermione grinned, catching the ball and throwing it back. It was weird, but she felt at ease. With other kids, there was always tension in the air, like she didn't belong. She played her part in class and in the past with her cousins, but now playing with Severus, she felt fine; her body was relaxed and wasn't in fight or flight mode.
Even if she wouldn't tell her parents about him, she no longer had to fake her smiles.
Severus had agreed to visit the playground the following few days, making it the best summer of her life.
"Don't forget me," she said, sniffing, when the last day came.
He crouched down to her level.
"Hey, I won't forget you. Don't you forget me," he retorted, grasping her hand.
It was weird to hear him speak so gently. He usually was acting either snarky or cross with her, although she could see in his eyes that he wasn't intentionally mean to her. It was as if he didn't know how to act around children. Hermione could see he meant his words and smiled between her tears.
"I will see you in two summers! Don't be late!"
He stood up and motioned for her to go home. "I won't be. I don't like tardiness."
Of all the people in the world, Hermione had to meet and befriend Severus Snape. Had she even befriended him? Or had he just pretended?
Wizard. He was a wizard—a professor at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And she was a witch herself. All the weird things she'd done, all the times she'd thought she was different and that she didn't belong, were true. She'd made real friends at Hogwarts, friends her own age, whereas 'her friend' had ignored her and treated her awfully. Had she been feeling comfortable with him just because her magic had recognised his?
It'd been impossible for her to reconcile Severus with Professor Snape. He was impossible in himself. He wasn't just snarky; he was rude and an awful teacher. However, he'd saved Harry's life. Him ignoring her had been like a stab in the back, though. He'd given her something only to take it. But hadn't she done the same, not trusting him and setting his robes on fire?
For the entire year afterwards, she'd tried to go on as normal. She could do it; she could pretend if that was what he wanted. It seemed her life was still split into two worlds: the playground and her cousins, Muggles and Wizards. Only now, she wasn't alone in her world any longer. Hundreds of children could do what she did. There were spells and curses, elemental magic like she used with the wind, and… potions. Severus taught Potions, and he indeed hated tardiness. At least that was one thing she recognised. He never seemed to recognise her, though. Not at her sorting, not in class, not once.
"Miss Granger."
Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him. It seemed that he was keeping his word, but she wondered if his future words would hurt more than him not turning up.
"Professor Snape."
He flinched, and for the first time in a year, she saw recognition in his eyes.
"Severus," she tried, and for a moment his mask broke, letting her see his eyes the way they'd once been: full of kindness.
"Do you hate me?" she asked in a small voice.
He sighed and went to sit on the swing. Quietly, she joined him on the other, like the day they'd met.
"I don't hate you, Hermione. I wouldn't have come here otherwise."
"All year you ignored me. Why did you come?"
"Because…" He gestured around.
"You pity me? Do you think it's your duty to help me with those kids? I'm almost thirteen. I can deal with them; now I know I'm not a freak."
He flinched again at her words, and twisted around on the swing to face her.
"I didn't come because I pity you. I know what you're going through. Why do you think I was that weird kid from Spinner's End? I know that you're part of two worlds. Isn't that why you came to the playground? I know more than you can imagine. I was different, even at Hogwarts; I had just one friend, and I lost her, too."
"I was your friend! Why did you ignore me if you empathised with me? Before that troll, I had no one. You built up my confidence two summers ago and you…"
He grabbed her hand.
"I know," he whispered. "But I didn't know how to act. You were a child when I last saw you, and then you came to Hogwarts as a teenager. An adult befriending a child is problematic—a man and a young girl even more so. If he is her professor, the situation is worse—especially with my reputation."
If he thought his speech would make her feel better, he was wrong. Sure, she understood, but he was also being ridiculous.
"I met you when I was nine and you pushed my swing. We played ball two years ago. You could have told me, not faked ignorance. There's only so much I can take. I set your robes on fire because I…"
"Didn't trust me, I know. I also know from Albus that Potter and you suspected me to be going after the stone. That was when I realised that you not trusting me hurt. You're the first person to be my friend in a long time. And the only one in a very long time who saw me in both the Muggle and Wizarding Worlds."
"The friend you lost?" Hermione asked.
"Yes. I met her in the hills near my house."
"Am I a replacement?"
His eyes looked even sadder, and she regretted her question.
"No, Hermione, you're not. You're a child who is a sweet friend, but you're not her, and I would never take advantage of your friendship. That's if you forgive me? You'd have to understand though, that I, Severus, cannot merge with Professor Snape. We come from two separate worlds."
She observed him in silence. His request, although a bit odd, made sense. She would ask him later, when the ground they stood on would be less shaky.
"Yes. You're only human. And so am I. We make mistakes. Everyone needs a friend; I'm yours." She put her other hand on the top of his. "I was always part of two worlds. I can be Hermione your friend, here in the playground, and Miss Granger at Hogwarts, in the Wizarding World. However, I wish one day people would see you from my perspective, and then we could blend the two worlds."
She raised her hand to stop him from protesting. "Later, when I'm older."
He looked unsure, but nodded slowly.
"Now," she said, standing up, "I think you owe me a game."