Honestly, this isn't the best chapter I've ever written. It's a bit foggy, and I might re-draft it tomorrow, when I feel better. Reviews are always appreciated! Thankyou for reading! I know it's a strange place to leave it, but it will even out in the next couple of chapters.
*No characters are mine, all belong to J.K.*
"Professor Snape. Snape, SEVERUS" McGonagall's Scottish brogue echoed down the halls of Hogwarts, and Snape had been attempting to ignore her, continuing to walk away. But at the use of his given name, several students turned, and he didn't want those dunderheads to pay any more attention to him than needed.
It had been a week and three days since his conversation with Miss Granger had turned sour, and regrettably, his thoughts continued to turn to it. He noticed a change in the girl too, she seemed strange, her thoughts dampened, and he had twice caught her pushing her food around on her plate, not eating a single bite. Last night, she was absent from dinner all together. Snape didn't know why, but that brought about a change in him, and he left his dinner, no longer desiring the cottage pie that was still steaming on his plate. He turned about suddenly. "Minerva. To what do I owe the most delicate pleasure?" Sarcasm was laced in Snapes voice, and McGonagall shot him a look that would have bewitched first years into jelly.
"Have you seen Hermione...ooh Miss Granger?" McGonagall spoke, voice turning into quite obvious concern. "No, I haven't. When did I become Potter?" He spat, glaring at her. The name of Hermione awoke a feeling of guilt within him, and he felt uneasy again. "Oh, don't be like that Severus. I haven't seen her all day!" Snape rolled his eyes. "It's only twelve, woman."
McGonagall shot a steel gaze at him. Her lips pursed, and her eyes suddenly seemed to burn into him. He knew how much she detested the term woman, and as a result used it as frequently as he could. "Have you, used common sense and looked in her dormitory?" "Oh don't be stupid Snape, I looked there, and in the library, and in the hall. I asked all of the ghosts, well not the bloody baron of course but he doesn't count. None of them has seen her. Binns and Flitwick haven't seen her, neither have Grubbly-Plank or Hooch. Merlins beard, I would have asked Trelawney to look in her inner eye if I thought it would have helped."
Snape sneered, and rolled his eyes, recalling the blithering Divination Professor. "No, I haven't seen Miss Granger." McGonagall looked flustered. "Well. You need to go find her." "What?" Snape bellowed, attracting the attention of a couple of straggling students that were late for there classes. "Thompson, Bellows. Detention." Snape spat again, and the students ran rather fast down the corridor and away from their teachers.
It had been ten minutes, and Snape didn't know where to look. McGonagall had finally gotten him to look for the Granger girl by pulling rank on him, telling him that she would do it herself, but she had work to do and a couple of classes to teach. He begrudgingly accepted, aware that she could organise it so he had classes on Mondays. Unfortunately, it was a Monday, and Snape couldn't use the teaching excuse.
Most classes practically taught themselves anyway these days. They had gathered quite quickly, apart from the first years, that Snape wasn't to be messed with, especially after his true loyalties were revealed after the war. Snape shook his thoughts off, and remembered Minerva didn't mention looking in Hogsmeade. If he was to track down this annoying girl, he decided to look there first. He walked himself to the Hogwarts gates. He inwardly shuddered, remembering all the nights he did this ver same thing, vanishing off to Death Eater meetings, only to come back hours later to give Dumbledore titbits of information, that normally would prove useless in the long run, to then go back to his room and patch himself up, pain dominating him to the very core. His lips tightened at these memories, and he mentally blocked them out, focusing at the task on hand.
He looked in a few shops, and ventured through the window of Honeydukes. He looked into Tomes and Scrolls, thinking the wizard there, Pete, may have seen her. Pete and Snape were on rather friendly terms, as he was a frequent visitor, finding it easier than making longer trips to Flourish and Blotts. He dropped momentarily into the Three Broomsticks, and frowned at the sight of Madam Rosemerta, even though the Wizard was aging, she still found applicable, to dress in wizards robes designed for a much younger witch. He hastily left again, before he could be spotted.
He then decided to go into the Hogs Head, greeting Aberforth as usual. Aberforth went to pour Snapes usual drink of Firewhiskey, but Snapes outstretched arm and flat palm stopped him. "Hermione Granger. Have you seen her?" Snape asked, not finding time for usual greetings. Aberforth feigned naivety, unknowing, but Snape knew better. He was accustomed to Aberforth, finding the Hogs head, although shabbier than the three broomsticks, afforded him privacy, that he was not given at the three broomsticks. Everyone seemed to paint him out as a 'true hero' and decided that halfway through his fire whiskey would be the best time to enter into a half assed conversation with him. Besides, Aberforth had looked and sounded more like Albus as the days progressed, and Snape couldn't help the nostalgia that crept up on him. A few times, Snape had actually mistook Aberforth for Albus, and when he realised his mistake, he had to go and stare into the fire for a few minutes. "When?" Snape asked, his voice sounding tired.
"Last night, around midnight." Aberforth said, and Snapes brow furrowed in confusion. "Why?" Snape asked, his voice cold and monotone. "I don't know." Snape growled, not having time for Aberforth's meddling. "WHY?" Snape shouted this time, leaning forward towards Aberforth over the counter. "She wanted some Firewhiskey." "She sat and drank?" "No, she took a bottle of Firewhiskey. Bought it off me. Knew I'd keep quiet about it. She went back up to her rooms, well she said she would anyway." Snape nodded, non-verbally thanking Aberforth for the information. He didn't need Aberforth to know why Hermione had asked for Firewhiskey, he knew well enough. He'd used it himself. There was no potion that cured the dull ache that resided in him, and know, he thought, her. He'd walked not a long distance, out of Honeydukes, towards the apparition point when he started replaying the last conversation in his head.
He'd been so stupid, he'd acted on instinct, helping her, something deep within him. He actually wanted to help her, she was a lovely girl, no woman now, and he knew she deserved more than being told she was unwanted. It was ridiculous, because the truth was the exact opposite. She didn't know the exact horrors he'd committed, so naturally her face was sincere and honest when she asked him what helped him. She seemed concerned about him, an honour he didn't deserve. He apparated, and was back in the Hogwarts grounds in minutes. He resolved to apologise to her, deciding that although he indeed, was a worthless bastard, and he couldn't do anything to change that, he could at least help a girl that honestly didn't deserve what she seemed to be going thorough. "Shit." He cursed, under his breath. He'd have to find her first.
Another quick survey of the castle told him that she wasn't there, though he asked the bloody baron to keep an eye out for her. He decided to walk around the grounds, using logic, thinking that maybe she'd been walking around all this time and they were just cursed or unlucky. He'd almost lost hope, and was resigning to tell McGonagall that he wouldn't be Grangers keeper anymore, he saw something underneath the tree by the lake. At first, he saw just a figure, and he wasn't sure it was her. Squinting however, in the now diminishing light, it had taken him a while to search the castle, Snape just about made out her chestnut curls. It occurred to him that he should find McGonagall, but he would rather apologise to her in private. He imagined talking to the professor, explaining exactly why he carried a hysterical Hermione down the halls, and into his private chambers.
He started to walk towards her, it wasn't the shortest of walks he could have possibly undertaken. But none the less, his speed increased when it seemed that Hermione was swaying from side to side, and standing precariously close to the edge. He remembered once, in muggle London, during the war he'd been walking and seen a man standing on top of a big building, a bank maybe. He was swaying from side to side, and he appeared to have imbibed a large amount of muggle liquor. Snape attempted to walk past him, but a large amount of muggles had noticed and he found his pathway blocked. He considered apparating, but a vanishing man would have caught more attention than a man standing precariously close to the edge. The man had people staring at him, and eventually some police became involved. However, they were clearly too late, and the man jumped fifteen minutes later. Snape noticed a man running to him, with sandy brown hair, yelling a name, something that began with "S.." He couldn't remember much more. Pushing this memory to the back of his mind, Snape quickened his pace, silently cursing apparition not being available.
He'd just walked down the path and was close to Hermione when she started wavering precariously close to the edge. He wanted to call out her name, but he was scared that if he startled her, she'd fall anyway. Instead, he conjured some of that stealth that he cultivated as years as a double agent, creeping up on Hermione Granger. Finally, he reached the tree. "Miss Granger," He said, voice soft, and apprehensive, slightly unsure of what he may uncover. She was facing the lake, and didn't turn to him. "Heermioneee," She spoke. It was clear from that single word that she was still drunk, and rather emotional too. "Hermione, go back to the castle." Snape tried to keep his voice void from any emotion, knowing that in times of true low, caring stung more than it should. He wasn't a man to talk a woman off a ledge, and he hoped that isn't what this situation was going to become. "I'm not going to jump, if that's what you're concerned about. Don't worry, I wouldn't bother you with the paperwork. The lake is calming. That's all." Snape neglected to point out that his reputation was always in tatters, and didn't want to shock her with an all out apology. "Regardless of your intentions, Miss Granger. It's getting late, and you have been missing all day. I suggest you return to the great hall immediately, and explain to Professor McGonagall where you have been."
At this, Hermione didn't reply, instead she sat on the edge. There was about a twenty foot drop between Hermione and the Lake, and Snape really didn't fancy his chances of swimming, especially in this cooling evening. He noted she was wearing her Hogwarts school robe, but seemed to be wearing muggle clothes underneath. He rolled his eyes. He walked forward, the ground felt hard beneath him. He sat beside Hermione, and several minutes passed without either of the pair saying a word. "I'll give you a sobering draught if you just go back inside." He decided to venture. She ignored his offer totally. Her face was forward, like she didn't acknowledge his presence at all. "You told me I was unwanted." She stated. This didn't seem to be a question, it was said without meaning, her voice hollow. It was a simple admission of fact. "You are not unwanted, Miss Granger." "Hermione." She corrected. "You're not unwanted.." Snape drifted, he'd only once referred to a student by their first name, and that was Draco, when he was trying to protect him. "Hermione." He finally finished. Calling her by her first name seemed to be regarding her as an independent person, though he was aware it was inappropriate, it seemed the first way of making amends.
He noticed the bottle of Fire Whiskey was beside her, and subtly vanished it. The bottle was empty. When he did this, Hermione seemed to change, acknowledging his presence, she turned to him. Her face was pale, and her nose and eyes had become red, Snape thought a mixture of the cold and the alcohol. She'd tucked her robes around her, and they encompassed most of her body. "You don't mean that." She said.
Snape looked her directly in the eyes, and his eyes seemed to burn into her again. "You are wanted, Hermione Granger." After a few moments of searching her eyes, she seemed to take in this, and accept it. He looked away. He knew he was fast dropping the surly potions master image he'd spent so many years attempting to cultivate, but honestly, something inside of him didn't care. He understood Hermione, knew what it felt like to feel like this. Even aside from that, she was academically superior to her peers, and could engage in full conversation with even the most intelligent of wizards. "I'll come back," She said. Her voice was groggy, and her movements seemed to be delayed, it occurred to him that she might not even remember the conversation in the morning.
He stood up, and extended his hand to Hermione, happy to have finally convinced her to turn to reason. "Before you go to eat, you may have a couple of potions to rid you of the evidence of your drinking. I suggest you don't do it again. It doesn't help in the long run." Snape's voice lacked it's usual encompassing sneer and harsh tones, but it didn't speak volumes of warmth either.
Hermione shook her head while she was getting back up, a little too vigorously, and before he really knew what was happening, she tripped, maybe on her cloak he didn't know, and fell of the edge of the grass. Snapes reflexes jumped into action, and before he knew it he had jutted forward and grabbed Hermione's wrist. Her breathing was laboured, and her eyes spoke of fear. Snape had an iron grip around her wrist, and rather forcefully pulled her back up, causing her to yell out in pain. "Are you okay?" He asked. She nodded vigorously, all traces of pain or the Fire Whiskey had dissipated. "Good." He said.