Hermione stretched as the sun peeked over the horizon, bathing the world in a shimmering autumn glow. She had managed to catch a few catnaps throughout the night and she actually, for once, felt a little fresher than she usually did. Perhaps the talk she had with Professor Snape had helped lighten the load and helped the soul.
Slowly she got out of bed, her feet hitting the cold cobblestone below, drawing her feet back up as if she had been burned. She would have to remember to light the fire tonight because she could tell winter was coming. So was Christmas. She sighed haughtily placing her feet back on the ground and standing up.
Padding slowly over the window of her room she looked out across the lake, the sun bathing everything it could in its warm glow, with a new day came new hope, but maybe not for her.
She didn't know what she was doing for Christmas this year, with Harry and Ron not talking to her, and Ginny not really a friend if she were honest; she hardly thought she would be invited to the burrow. Sure, Mrs. Weasley may invite her over but should she accept? She knew the invitation would be born purely out of pity, and none for the desire of wanting her there and she didn't blame her, after all, she did say some not so nice things about Harry and Ron when she realized they had all but abandoned her.
Everyone had changed after the war, not just her or Harry and Ron. Everyone. The loss of Fred was hard on everyone. Especially Molly. She could only imagine the pain that she would be going through having the first Christmas without him. Having to remember him on such a day when family should be coming together but there was one less at the table. And George, poor George . Half of him died that day but he still tried to keep a tough exterior and pretended it didn't bother him, but she knew it did.
Nothing was the same anymore. She knew it would happen. No more sitting around at Christmas eating until she was about to burst and then being lulled to sleep by Christmas Carols by the warm, welcoming fire of the burrow, to wake up a few hours later and eat again.
She was more disappointed than upset. Disappointed that after everything she had been through with Harry and Ron, they both threw her away like a piece of garbage without a second thought. She thought she meant more to them than that. Hell, she was sure she and Ron were going to finish school, get married and eventually start a large family. She snorted. What a stupid sentiment that was.
She knew the war changed everyone but for them to just drop her faster than a lead weight off of the astronomy tower was incomprehensible. She loved them both dearly but they had both broken her heart equally.
She let out a small, strangled sob. She wasn't upset, or so she kept reminding herself. She just wished that things could go back to how they used to be. When they were carefree and younger when they would all pile under the invisibility cloak and wonder and the grounds of Hogwarts getting into all sort of mischief and fun.
Times had changed, she knew they would, but she didn't expect them to change this much.
She stretched her back gently, her feet freezing on the cold, stone floor, she could hear gentle noise coming from other dorms, knowing that everyone was slowly starting to stir and the day would begin soon.
-o-o-o-o-
Severus sneered into his early morning cup of coffee. It tasted so bland and he was sure it needed a bit of something to spice it so he could face those dunderheads again.
Reaching into his pocket he fished out a small, silver vial and uncorked it. Sniffing it to make sure it was the small tincture of Gin that he thought it was, he upended it into his coffee, swirling the white cup around and around in a circle in a bid to distribute the gin and coffee into even ratio's.
Throwing the vial on the lounge next to him, he sipped the coffee and smiled, that was much better. If only he could take every drink this way throughout the day, he thought to himself as his mind drifted to the night before with Hermione Granger. He scowled.
He didn't know exactly what to make of Hermione Granger anymore. He assumed she had some deep-seated issues that weren't going to easily come to the surface, but he was surprised to hear that her two best friends had just abandoned her. And if he remembered correctly, he had overheard her mention something once that her parents were no longer in the picture either. He pondered as he sipped his coffee, exactly who did Hermione Granger actually have to turn to? He assumed, by the small snippet of her diary he read, she had no one.
But why should he care? He didn't care, not one iota. Let the golden girl, the Gryffindor Princess, the heroine of the story look after herself. She didn't give a toss about him, so why should he show her even a speck of empathy?
He took another long sip from his mug; at least the alcohol numbed the pain and perked him up if just a miniscule amount. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, noting it was greasier than usual and maybe, perhaps, he should force himself to shower this morning.
Finishing his coffee he slammed the mug down on his coffee table to a little too much force. The sound of ceramic on wood lingered in the air loudly for a few seconds before he pulled himself to his feet.
He couldn't help but notice the thought of Hermione Granger had somewhat soured his mood even more than usual. He hated the little swot and she shouldn't be getting under his skin like she was. She meant nothing to him and he to her. And yet, he began to calculate and plan in his head whether he would be heading down to the lake again tonight to meet her, to talk, and heaven forbid to listen… To seem like he cared.
He couldn't deny he was intrigued by the last comment she had made to him, about having an ice-cold heart. He didn't feel he had an ice cold heart, although bitter and twisted he had some semblance of a heart buried deep within his chest cavity, deep beneath the rib cage, hiding, scared, was a heart, he just had no reason or anyone to show it to. Hiding behind the dark, scary façade was someone who wanted to love, and be loved in return, but no one would ever see it or ever know it.
-o-o-o-o-
"Minerva," He inclined his head towards the elder witch in a greeting as he took a seat on the opposite side of the desk to her. The office was still identical to when Albus was Head Master, save for a few different knick-knacks on the desk.
"What can I help you with, Severus?" She asked in her heavy Scottish brogue, reaching across the table, plucking a silver tin up in her long, slender fingers and opening it. Thrusting the tin towards him she offered a biscuit. "Biscuit?" She questioned.
He declined, so she shook the tin a touch, she wouldn't take no for an answer. When he again declined she shook the tin harder, almost as if it had done something to her and she was taking her frustrations out on it.
He sighed and plucked a ginger snap up in his fingers. Satisfied, she recoiled the tin and sat I next to her on the desk.
"I am worried about Miss Granger." He reclined back coolly in the chair, crossing his ankles while watching the woman intently.
"Miss Granger? What has she done?" Minerva was taken aback that anyone would be in her office talking to her about Hermione Granger, her best student.
"She hasn't done anything, Minerva. As her professor for so many years, I can tell when something is off with her, as with most of my students actually and there is something wrong with her."
"I didn't know you paid such close attention to the students, especially not Miss Granger. I was under the assumption you had a strong dislike for the girl."
"It's my job, I am paid take notice and I am paid to tolerate her… to a degree" his voice cold as he took a bite of the biscuits in his hand.
"And what do you suppose Miss Granger's mysterious illness is?" Tenting her fingers, wresting her wrists against the edge of her desk.
"I didn't say she was sick. I said something was off about her. She seems distant and upset."
"She seems fine to me," Minerva offered. "Always smiling."
"That's on the surface, Minerva. It's deeper than the surface, you have to dig if you can't see it so obvious as I, but it's there. She's not happy."
"She has assured me, she is fine, Severus." She waved a hand dismissively at him.
He growled low in his throat over the fact the woman wasn't taking his issue seriously and brushing him off.
"Talk to her, Minerva. Dig a little deeper. I think you will find her life isn't all unicorns and rainbows like she makes it out to be."
"If Hermione had a problem, I have full confidence she would have approached me by now, Severus." He sighed, resigning to the fact his plea was falling on deaf ears and Minerva wasn't going to see what he was seeing.
Silence engulfed them for what seemed like an eternity until Minerva spoke once more.
"How are you, Severus?" She smiled meekly at him.
"Fine," he snapped.
"No, you aren't."
"I am," words were spoken through tightly gritted teeth.
"We can talk about it if you like." She leaned across the table and gently patted his arm in a show of sympathy.
"You can tell there is something wrong with me, but you can't see anything is wrong with Grange?" He snorted.
"I told you, Severus. If there was something wrong with Hermione, she would come and see me." Folding arms across her chest in a manner of defiance.
"Forget I ever came to you," He hissed, getting to his feet. "And should anything happen to her, you only have yourself to blame because I brought forward my grievances and you dismissed them as nothing!" He exclaimed, storming from her office.
-o-o-o-o-
"Yes, Professor?" She stiffened slightly when she sensed someone standing behind her down by the lake. She knew it would only be one person because only one person knew she would be down there, and that person was Severus Snape.
She was reclining back by the lake, both hands behind her, propping her up, legs stretched out in front of her. Long auburn hair cascading almost to the ground like a waterfall, inclining her head back to look at him looking down at her dark eyes locked onto chocolate ones for a moment, each willing the other to break the gaze but neither wanted to. It was he who pulled from her demanding gaze after a few awkward seconds and he sat next to her on the ice-cold ground.
She was wrapped in a thicker cloak than the previous night, the bitter wind from the night before had gone, but the temperature was a few degrees cooler, especially by the lake. It wouldn't be long before the snow started to fall and she would have to find somewhere else to spend her nights and try to clear her head.
"Is everything ok, Miss Granger?" He asked her, tucking his knee's close to his chest trying to keep himself warm while looking over the darkened lake. The full moon of the previous night had shrunk significantly and didn't shine as bright.
"Are you here for a reason?" Her voice a low ghostly whisper, eyes closed, nose numb from the ice cold.
"As your professor, it is my duty to ensure you are fine, Miss Granger."
Eyes opened with a flutter as a small-undignified snort escaped from within her. "When have you ever cared about me? When have you ever cared about anyone?" Her head slightly turned to look at him quizzically for a minute, studying his face. He had aged considerably despite being in his thirties, his skin was sallow and the lines in his face deepened, tired eyes framed by large bags under his eyes. He looked tired and he looked as if he had the weight of the world solely on his shoulders.
"And actually," She began matter of factly, "Didn't you say ' drown yourself in the lake, I've given up on caring'" she said in a mock, high falsetto.
"I did. You are correct," he bit out.
"So what are your real motives? You don't care, and you wouldn't stop me walking out into the middle of the lake, taking a breath, throwing myself under the surface and never emerging again."
"I wouldn't go out into that putrid lake, anyway unless you wanted to kill yourself. The entire plumbing from the castle runs to the lake. Nothing like swimming in raw sewerage to get the blood pumping as you are dying from E-coli poisoning."
"Charming. Thank you for letting me know after I have spent countless summers swimming in it."
"And as for what my motives are, I have no motives, Miss Granger. I am but a simple professor ensuring his brightest student is fairing all right," he said simply, his black eyes darting to meet her eyes again for a few seconds, but it was her this time who broke the gaze.
"Interesting," her voice a low whisper as he mind ran a mile a minute. Sure, she had some issues, but she didn't just want to blurt them all out to him. To someone who, for years, treated her like she was nothing more than the dirt beneath their boots. Someone who taunted her and picked or her physical attributes when they themselves were nothing amazing to look at.
Basically, she didn't want to divulge her life's going on's to someone who she could not trust, nor did she feel was worthy of being trusted.
"Even if there was something wrong, what makes you think that I would tell you? You are a horrible person, with no redeeming qualities, who picked on me and my friends relentlessly for the past seven years, and now you have the hide to sit down here and try to pry my secrets from me," her voice raised a few shaky octaves and her heart pumped hard in her chest. She couldn't believe she was actually standing up for herself and telling him off.
He sneered at her harsh words as they cut him deep to the core. The little bitch sure did have a sharp tongue.
"And where are you so-called Friends now, Miss Granger?" He questioned hints of sarcasm laced in his tone.
"Why is it you sit out here alone every night in the bitter cold staring into nothingness? Tell me, Miss Granger, why you cry out here alone? Why you have your own little pity party? I can see the hurt in your eyes, Miss Granger, I can sense the change in you, I can see the way you have changed, I can see deeper than that false façade you plaster on your face every day, I can see past that, I can see deep down into your core and I know you are troubled, I know you are hurt and unhappy, you are just like me, Miss Granger. You hide the hurt, you let the pain and loneliness consume you until you can't hold it in anymore and you come down here to cry and let all of those feelings of hate and all of that hurt out, they run down your cheeks and onto the earth below, and for a few moments, you feel normal again, you feel like the Hermione Granger you know you are meant to be."
He pulled out a packet of cigarettes and placed one into his mouth, offering the packet to Hermione she cocked her head to the side almost as if contemplating taking one before waving her hand dismissively, declining.
"You can kill yourself, but I am not going to die of lung cancer," she huffed, watching as he lit the smoke with the tip of his wand.
He drew back on the smoke, holding it in his lungs for a few seconds before releasing it, the smoke drifting off into the night sky.
"One could only hope that death would knock on my door and escort me to the depths of hell where I have a place reserved for me, sooner rather than later."
"Heaven knows you deserve that spot in hell," She spat at him, pondering over his words. Was she that transparent? Or was he just better at seeing the pain within her than anyone else?
"Don't hold back, Miss Granger," he snapped back. "Now, do you want to talk, or do you not want to talk?"
"Like I said, why would I want to talk to you about my life? Especially with you."
"Because," he said simply drawing back on the cigarette, "there is no shame in sharing the burden with others." He released the smoke from his lungs.
She didn't like this, she didn't like that he could see so easily through her and she didn't like that the words he spoke were true.
"Maybe, but not tonight." She began to rise from the cold ground when a strong hand ceased her wrist and pulled her back to the ground. She let out a small mewl of protest.
"Why not tonight, Miss Granger? Where is it that you have to go that is so important? You come here to clear your mind and I offer to listen and you want to up and leave to head back to your dorm, lay there tossing and turning until the sun comes up, plastering that cheery façade on your face and start the day again." He threw his cigarette butt as close to the lake as he could, watching it float away in the water.
Her mouth opened and closed a few times, how did he know that is exactly what she did? How did he know so much about her when she knew so little about him?
"Legilimency , Miss Granger. You forget I am a skilled Legilimens."
"Stay out of my head, please," she snapped. "You have no right to be there."
"And yet, you didn't try to stop me?" He said simply. "Now, are you going to talk, or as you going to storm off again?"
"Storm off," She offered, getting to her feet once more, turning on her heel and leaving him to sit by the shore alone.
"Enjoy being alone, again," He yelled out after her, which only earned him an extension of her middle finger in the faint moonlight. And if he had have cared a little more, he may have just given the little bitch detention.
A/N: I hope you are all enjoying this story as much as I am. I am loving how the characters are developing.
-Aliasmel1