Summary: Something is causing a dangerous rift in the romance between Hermione and Severus. In order to bring understanding to light, one of them will have to journey into the other's experience with darkness.
Disclaimer: Anything recognizable from the Harry Potter universe belongs to J.K. Rowling and not to me.
A/N: This chapter comes with a major angst warning! Hermione and Severus cannot sustain a lovey-dovey romance without working out a few kinks first! Warnings for this chapter : there is an allusion to the suicide and death of a very minor character.
Thank you, Moon Revel, for the beta-read!
"Do not touch me!" Severus ordered in a dangerous voice. The Auror swiftly released his arm while huffing indignantly. Severus tugged at the end of his reclaimed sleeve and then smoothed out his robes. He glared at his so-called "security" and sternly said, "I cannot stop you from following along, but do not presume I am incapable of Apparating myself to the gates of Hogwarts."
Pop! Pop! There was the sudden appearance of Hermione and Potter just as the young Auror was rising with a response, completely unfazed by Severus' haughtiness. "Oh, I'm not presuming anything! You are likely quite capable of many extraordinary things, but surely you must know that I am just doing my job—ensuring the safety of a War Hero?" She patted his arm and turned, smiling at the newcomers.
Severus grumbled something menacing under his breath, but the Auror did not take notice since she was otherwise engaged in saying hello to Potter, congratulating him for getting such an important assignment so early in his career. Hermione did not seem to notice either. She had not greeted him yet. She was much too occupied watching that annoying leech converse with her 'Harry.'
He cleared his throat loudly. When he had three sets of eyes on him, he smoothly relayed, "While I am sure the discussion of Potter's Auror training must be vastly… entertaining… Miss Granger and I must leave you both to the… effectual… spending of your time."
They did not see him cast the unwarding spell, but at that moment, the gates clicked and swung inward. He swept through them after a single glance at Hermione to compel her to follow.
"Bye, Harry!" she called back. "I'll Floo you later so we can talk some more. Alright?"
Severus was already too far away to know if Potter responded. He was now approaching the stone steps, walking briskly, with Hermione hurrying behind to catch up.
They walked quickly and in silence to his office near the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. When they had entered and closed the door, he turned to Hermione to see if she was going to wrap her arms around him and kiss him like she had so many times yesterday.
She did not.
Nuances not so subtle, it was obvious that something was amiss. Hermione sat in a chair in front of his desk looking anxious and cautious. Was she having regrets already? He had known that she would. Still, it was discomfiting—being such a sudden and drastic deviation from the way she certainly seemed to feel yesterday.
Hermione became unnerved by Severus quietly observing her. Hesitantly, she said, "Severus?" She fell silent. He raised a brow in inquiry. Finally, she appended, "Er—how are you?"
"Splendid," he said shortly. "And yourself? Do I find you doing well today? Did you manage to get any rest?" His sarcasm infused every word, but it was subdued—not apparent enough for her to call him on it.
After all, she could not know how anxious he had been to see her that day and how he had worried all night about whether she was getting any rest. He had thought perhaps that he should have given her some Dreamless Sleep. And now, today, other than being distant with him, she seemed perfectly…
Hermione frowned. "I'm fine. Er—thanks."
"Shakespeare or Occlumency?"
"Er—I get to choose?" Hermione asked, surprised. He did not acknowledge her question but waited for her answer. "Occlumency then," she decided. He glared at her, which made her say, "Well, don't you agree that we ought to start working on it right away? I mean, it took Harry—"
"Obviously we should," Severus interrupted. "I simply deemed to ensure you are taking this as seriously as is warranted," he added, effectively misdirecting his intention to discover if she was more inclined to spend time as a couple or as professional acquaintances. Professional it is. Very well.
"Your hands," he stated.
Hermione looked down at her hands, bringing them up from where they had been bunching up the ends of the sleeves on her robe. "What about them?"
"Stop fidgeting."
"I'm not fidgeting!"
"You were. Or did you not take any notice of how thoroughly you were wrinkling your sleeves?"
Hermione's annoyance was apparent from the lowering of her eyes and the thinning of her lips. Fine. Hopefully, she would get the point.
Severus asked another question. "What do you do with your mouth when you get angry?"
"What?" Hermione said, thrown by the odd question.
Without pausing, he continued, "What sort of people are you likely to stereotype without realizing you may be doing so?"
"None!" was her quick reply.
Severus did not acknowledge her answer. "What do you fear? What physical signs denote your embarrassment? What ignites your passion? How often do you discover that your mind seems to have 'checked out' while going about your normal routines? Of what do you daydream? What makes you angry?" He finally ceased the firing off of rhetorical questions in order to take a deep breath.
Hermione's eyes were narrowed, and her brow was creased as she answered the last question. "You! Why all these questions? If you are trying to get to know me, at least attempt to do so by not making me feel like a victim of the Inquisition!"
Severus calmly replied, "That is not the point here, Hermione. Although," he paused, then said seriously, "I do wish to get to know you better, yes." His insides writhed when he saw Hermione squirm and avert her eyes to the bookshelves.
"The point is," he continued, using his classroom tone, "control." He finally took a seat in his own chair behind the desk. "To become adept at controlling your mind, you must have a strong measure of control over yourself in general."
Hermione turned an inquisitive face to him. Ah, that insatiable interest in learning returns!
"Good, I am blessed with the gift of your attention now," he said dryly. Inquisitive morphed into indignant, but Severus pretended not to notice. "The witch or wizard who rushes blindly through life without awareness or introspection has little hope of attaining mastery over anything."
He regarded her with a smirk. "Look what you are doing right now. Why are you raising your hand? You have a question, undoubtedly yes. However, do you raise your hand in automatic, robotic fashion after nurturing such an incessant habit for seven years? Or do you not yet feel comfortable enough in my presence to behave as two adults should when having a discussion? In other words, does my role as your mentor make you forget our adult relationship, or is your regression into student behavior the result of untended to-tendency?"
"Well, it must be due to habit, I suppose," she answered, clearly skeptical about where this was going.
She supposes! Severus snorted.
"It would behoove you to be certain of that, Hermione. The key here is, as the Oracle of Delphi once said, know thyself. Self-awareness and control comprise the essential base for developing confidence in your ability to protect your mind, and it will aid you in doing so in a more facile manner. Blocking someone from invading your mind is simple enough if they first push you to emotional extremes. However, it risks giving them information they can use before you are finally able to drive them away. It is an exhaustive waste of your magical energy, leaving you entirely too weak to maintain your control over the block for very long."
"Did you explain all this to Harry?" Hermione suddenly asked.
"Potter? You are asking about Potter! Well, while I do not doubt that he has told tales to you and Weasley of how I tortured him ruthlessly and relentlessly…" He broke off, giving her a severe look as he suddenly remembered one thing he knew Potter would have told them. It made him very uneasy to know that Hermione, of all people, knew the pathetic story of his worst childhood experience. She might have laughed, or worse, pitied him.
Hermione glared right back at him, which deepened his unease. He retained his stoic stance and calm mannerisms, however—an ability honed over years of paying close attention to his physical reactions to outside influences. He continued, "However, I assure you that, as you will find when term begins, you simply cannot teach those who are unwilling to learn." Severus made a supplicating gesture with his arm and spoke in an artificially courteous tone, "Now, are you finally finished being sidetracked by Potter? May we now continue our lesson?"
"Actually, no," Hermione said, matching his supercilious inflection with defiance in her eyes. "Not yet. I want to know why you are so cruel to Harry. Why do you have to hate him so much?"
Severus stared at her, giving her the look he always used to warn people to back off when they dared to question him or were brave enough to ask him something personal. i I knew it. Her friends will come before me. We only just began this… relationship… and already there are problems portentous of a premature conclusion/i It took Severus quite a bit of concentration not to show his disappointment and fear. After a long breath, he said, "Hermione, I do not hate—"
"Don't lie!" Hermione rose from her chair and pointed her finger at him. She released the anger that had been building up since she had arrived and suffused her words with it. "I know what you did to Harry over the weekend! He fought for you at the trials, remember? He fought for him, too, you know. How could you do that to him? Making Harry imprison his own classmate behind the fires of Hell you created!"
At that, Severus turned around quickly, knowing he had a look of revulsion and anger on his face. He strode over towards a large cabinet to excuse the action. Hermione would not see his sudden sneer, but she ought to hear it in his voice. "Ah, so Mister Potter begins his distinguished career by believing that others should take up his slack." He snorted derisively. "Well, Hermione, your unwavering loyalty to your friend is meritable, and your decision to default automatically to agreement with said friend's opinions of other people is… staggering. Be that as it may," he paused, then spat, "it was his job!"
"Harry said he should not have had to—"
"Of course he had to! You think that they would so voraciously oppose my being the sole bearer of the knowledge of how the fire immunity potions are made, but they would smile swimmingly upon my being the only one who knows how to summon the fires?"
"No! I was saying that Harry told me you were not letting him perform the magic on any of the prisoner cells up until you got to that one! He was so broken up about it, and I bet that you couldn't care less!"
Hermione was saying this to the open cupboard door, which was blocking the top half of Severus' body. He emerged holding a large, rune-encircled, stone basin, staring at her intently.
"Perhaps you will be able to justify your anger… or not… after reviewing the scene for yourself," Severus said tonelessly. He withdrew the memory of the past Saturday and flung it into the basin with his wand. It coalesced into a cloud-like texture but with a milky-white color that glinted with opalescent sparkles.
Hermione stood to peer into the Pensieve before her on the desk. "I do not think I want to see this," she said quietly. "In some ways, I think that solitary confinement in darkness may actually be worse than having Dementors for guards."
Severus coolly replied, "Very well. Snog me senseless, as your generation is so fond of saying, all day yesterday, and despise me unduly today. The inevitable has arrived earlier than even I would have thought, but it brings with it such a liberating relief." He turned to stare out the window at the empty grounds.
"Alright, let's go in," Hermione said, not unkindly.
"I, for one, never care to relive that experience ever again." Severus walked out from behind his desk until he was standing beside Hermione. "Look in if you must, or don't. It is of rather little consequence, for I shall return shortly to recommence your Occlumency lesson, which is, apparently, the most befitting use of our time together."
Severus swept out of the room very quickly.
It was not so bad at first. There was just a slightly heated conversation between Harry and Severus. Harry was assuring him that he could remember and recite correctly the unfamiliar Latin inherent in the spell. Severus, with seeming indifference, informed him that, like the Avada Kedavra, you had to really desire that the spell work. He coolly remarked that Harry was "too Gryffindor" to be able to ordain that anyone should have to suffer a life guarded by these deadly flames. Harry, used to Severus' disregard, informed him that, he, perhaps more than anybody, wanted to see justice served to Voldemort's evil minions. A, "We shall see," was the response Harry received.
They walked down the first hallway, surrounded by cells on both sides. Immediately, there arose a chorus of jeers, insults, pleas, cries, and one inmate obviously feigning ill with a poorly contrived "pity me" story. Without skipping a beat, Severus walked up the hallway, aiming his wand at the cells on one side, repeatedly muttering the spell as he went along.
Black Flame rose, deafening the prisoners' screams only after the fire had climbed high enough to flicker against the ceiling. Hermione found herself shaking where she stood next to Harry, who was doing the same thing, a fair distance from where Black Flame consumed the view into the last cell.
Harry stayed where he was while Severus swung around and marched back down the hallway, sealing the terrified prisoners on the other side into defeating darkness. When he turned around again, he strode quickly and angrily back up to where Harry waited.
"For someone who thinks they are capable of performing such advanced and dark magic, you are remarkably remiss in taking the opportunity to watch and learn."
"I told you, sir, that I know I can cast the spell," Harry breathily retorted, albeit lacking the luster of his previous attempts to convince Severus of his readiness. Severus just rolled his eyes and swept past to go through an inquiry/visiting room in order to reach a second hallway full of the same solitary prisoner cells.
They were met with high-pitched, wild, maniacal laughter. When they took in the deranged countenance of Bellatrix Lestrange, she started to scathingly insult them, sycophantic laughter breaking out unexpectedly and intermittently.
"What was that you said about the Killing Curse, Professor?" Harry said lightly.
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, unheard by any of them, of course.
Severus actually smirked at that. Then he told Harry to go ahead and cast Black Flame in front of her cell.
Harry swished his wand across the base from one side to the other while chanting, "Flamma ater surge! Flagra! Consume ominis corpus tanges! Flamma ater surge! Flagra! Consume nemo non! Flamma ater surge! Flagra! Versari in annum/i " He was now drawing his wand up in long arcs, higher and higher, making it look as though the wand was making the fire rise. " i Flamma ater surge! Flagra! Flamma ater resurge! Fla—"
"Shite!" Severus yelled, grabbing Harry's arm and running down the hall. The flames grew to tremendous proportions, flickering across the hall and licking the bars of the unoccupied cells on the other side. Despite the roaring of the massive fire, Bellatrix's screams were loud enough to penetrate through.
"Is she dying?" Harry shouted, panicked.
"No, idiot boy. Black Flame provides the gift of instant death." He took small steps forward until he was just out of range of the most far-reaching tendrils of flame. "Lumen ad granum ex obscuritas, lumen intempesta nocte, claresce!" The fire still raged menacingly, but from its center, a brightness started to glow and then grow. It became roughly the size of a small window, which, Hermione realized, was exactly what it was.
Bellatrix was sitting, violently shaking, against the back wall of her cell, the flames coming perilously close to her. As long as she stayed against the back wall all the time, the fire would not touch her.
The window closed as quickly as it had appeared. Severus smirked again. "Well, it's not quite the same as Avada Kedavra…" He turned so suddenly, fixing an intensely angry glare on Harry, which caused the glint in Harry's eyes to fade rapidly.
Severus spoke aggressively, "You said 'ater resurge' instead of 'ater surge!' You are an overly self-confident fool. You know that, Potter, do you not? How many times, exactly, did you assure me you knew the words?"
"I'm sorry! I do know them! I just slipped! It's fine. I can be careful—"
Severus sneered at Harry. "You are lucky that the Aurors were kind enough to the other prisoners not to force them to endure living next to or across from the madwoman. This is not a classroom. You are not allowed to make such grievous mistakes!"
He then turned and Vanished the first two cells across from Bellatrix's—from where the flames were still spitting out across the hallway.
"Cool, at least we can still get around the fire when we need to pass through," remarked Harry in a somewhat pathetic attempt to focus on the positive.
"Obviously," Severus sneered. "Now, come along. You will watch, and you willlearn."
Hermione followed behind Harry, who followed Severus. They approached the next occupied cell—a few down from Bellatrix, the wallflower. Inside was a thin man with shadows under his hollow eyes. "Don't let that boy cast it!" he rasped. The man then stared blankly at them. He spoke again with a voice as hollow as his eyes, resigned to emptiness, darkness, death. "I've done too many terrible things." Severus lowered his wand, pointing it at the floor in front of the cell. However, the man spoke once more, "On second thought, it might be better to let the boy cast it, and I'll just sit here, close to the bars."
Hermione's eyes filled with tears, although she knew she was not supposed to feel sorry for someone evil enough to earn a one-way ticket to Azkaban. Severus ordered him to back up and quickly said the incantation, summoning up the Black Flame that obscured their view of the entire cell and obscured the prisoner inside from the luscious gift of light. He continued down the hallway, muttering incessantly, the mighty stream of flame, black as midnight, growing ever longer.
Hermione watched Harry whisper the spell Severus had used to create a window to see through to the cell. The decrepit man was nowhere in sight. He must have… i Oh, Gods/i She noticed that Harry quickly rubbed at his eyes before Severus could turn around and see them glistening. She, herself, had tears free-falling. No one would be able to see.
They entered a second inquiry/visiting room. There was a stone chair rising out of the floor, replete with shackles waiting to restrain anyone who was made to sit in it. It reminded Hermione of seeing Severus locked in one that was remarkably similar at the postwar trials—up until he was cleared of all charges. The chair faced a wide table where a pair of upholstered folding chairs were placed facing it. On the other side of the room was another shackle-adorned stone chair facing a long and lumpy sofa.
Hermione was just as surprised as Severus was to see Harry stride right over to the couch and plop down on it.
"Just what do you think you are doing, Potter?" Snape inquired, his brows raised in consternation.
"Need a break."
Snape laughed, not kindly. "Your little Gryffindor heart is just not up to this, is it?"
"Excuse me if my heart isn't as icy as yours," Harry fired back.
"Well then, have it your way, the way it always goes, no doubt. However, I shall, of course, inform your department Head of your inability to rise to the task given to you." With an expression of utter disgust, Severus left the room for what must be another hall of cells. Hall of Darkness.
Hermione watched Harry rise from the sofa as if he meant to follow after all. He sat back down, frowning. He stood again only to plop down immediately with a heavy sigh. Hermione wished she could comfort him but went to follow Severus instead.
Immediately upon entering the hallway, she was shocked to find Severus with a hand over his eyes, shaking. She had seen that gesture once before. It meant that he was crying or close to it. She couldn't know. He was standing in front of a cell, his wand loose in his hand. He was talking to someone.
As Hermione stepped closer, she heard a desperate voice plead, "…another way, Godfather!" Severus brought himself to stillness and lowered his hand to stare with despair at the owner of that pitiful voice.
"Get me out, Severus! I know you can! I can—cannot survive like this!"
"I do not think there is anything more I can do, Draco," Severus answered very quietly.
Just then, Harry emerged in the doorway. When Severus saw him, Harry announced solemnly, "I am more than up to the task, sir."
Severus' mouth twisted into a wicked smirk that Hermione had not seen on his face since the night they finished Voldemort—when Severus had been able to delight in telling Voldemort exactly how well he double-crossed him.
Smoothly, he said, "Fine, Potter! Get over here, and try again!" When Harry drew near, Severus added, "And if you fuck up the words, Potter, I swear I will rip out your throat and use it in a potion."
Harry stared back aghast, his mouth agape. He narrowed his eyes. "Haven't I ever told you how fantastic a teacher you are, Professor? Truly inspiring, confidence-building—"
"Save it, Potter!" Severus said shortly. "We both know that you can only do anything if you are first goaded into it."
"That's not true!"
"Care to provide an example?"
"Er, I—You are infuriating!"
"Heh!" Snape made a dramatic, showcasing gesture towards the cell Draco was in. Harry finally turned to look at it. "Very well then, prove it is not true."
Draco was watching him without the least bit of fervor in his gray eyes. "Ah, it's the Chosen One," he said with a halfhearted attempt at his classic, sarcastic drawl as if it might bring a bit of humor into a situation none of them could find at all amusing.
Harry stood frozen, watching the young man whom he had testified on behalf of at the trials. Hermione could not help but to stare at Draco as well. He was sitting with his back to a corner, ankles crossed, elbows resting on his knees, and his chin resting on his interlaced fingers. His pale skin seemed tinged with gray. Even his hair lacked the white-gold sheen it once had.
"Get on with it, Potter," Draco said in a bored voice. His apathy and resignation further painted the sorrowful picture of a desolate young man devoid of life, looking defeated—as if the darkness had already sucked out all his life force.
Soul suckers, the both of them! Hermione thought. Dementors and the darkness. But Hermione knew she had heard Draco pleading with his godfather just a moment ago. Draco had retained some measure of hope. However small, it still existed. How long could it last? Especially once his world went black?
She looked at Severus, who was moving eyes that were reminiscent of endless tunnels back and forth between Harry and the other end of the hallway—looking anywhere but at Draco.
Harry looked down at the limp arm holding his wand. He didn't move.
"Gods, Potter! Some Auror you are! Do it! Now!" Severus commanded.
Harry gave him a glare colored by fright. Severus' eyes bored into Harry's, daring him to back down, and as Hermione watched, the fright and anger drained from Harry's eyes until they looked nearly as hollow and lifeless as Draco's did.
Harry turned back to Draco. He aimed the wand, two sets of despairing eyes now locked on each other. His voice soft and clearly overlaid with sorrow, he chanted slowly. His enunciation was careful and controlled. "Flamma ater surge. Flagra. Consume ominis corpus tanges. Flamma ater surge. Flagra. Consume nemo non. Flamma ater surge. Flagra. Versari in annum. Flamma ater surge. Flagra. Flamma ater surge. Flagra."
A blanket of deadly darkness now covered Draco's cell. Harry angrily stuffed his wand into his robes and shouted, "I need that break!" He turned and exited the hall.
Apparently, Severus needed one too. He slunk down right where he stood. He crouched low in the middle of the hallway, his arms wrapped around his knees and his face buried in them. Hermione wrapped her arms around him but touched only cool air. He mumbled something about "finding a solution," then took a long, steadying breath.
Whether it was Severus' impeccable intuition again or a random instance of really good timing, Hermione was unsure, but Severus rose, looking calm and collected, just as Harry returned. Harry gave Severus a look of pure hatred. Hermione wondered if the hate was directed solely at Severus or if it was the entirety of the depressing situation that etched itself into such an expression.
From that point on, Harry cast Black Flame on one side of a hall while Severus darkened the other. They never spoke to each other. The only sounds were the barely audible incantations, muffled by jeers, pleas, and wails of prisoners and the mighty roar of the growing fire.
One such jeer came in the form of, "Two-faced bastard!"
This actually brought an amused smirk to Severus' face as he retorted to a likewise smirking prisoner, "Takes one to know one, Lucius!"
"You have not forgotten your promise to me?" asked Lucius.
"Of course not. I am working on it." Severus said calmly. Hermione looked at him askance. Harry was nearing the end of the hallway, methodically casting the black fire over each cell. Lucius nodded once, and Severus proceeded to obliterate all his light. He then moved along quickly to catch up with Harry at the end.
Hermione followed and watched them stamp each prisoner with the seal of Death. A fair portion of the prisoners were people she did not know. Yet, most she had recognized as Death Eaters whom she had fought the night Harry defeated Voldemort. The sickly turning in her stomach was soothed somewhat by knowing that she and all her loved ones were much safer now. It was strange to feel so rotten, yet also relieved.
Then, with a pang, she saw a cell that contained another of her former classmates. Goyle. Crabbe was in the one right after that. Luckily, Severus was spelling this side, and Harry did not notice. It did not matter anymore that they had been in Slytherin… Hermione gasped aloud as Severus approached the next cell. Zacharias Smith, who had been the D.A.'s snarly skeptic, was its habitant. Not him, too! Hermione shook her head. So many of her own age had been corrupted or coerced by Voldemort and his agenda for power. They could all have been friends with each other in another place, in another time, if his evil, divisive ideology had never been passed down to their generation. She wondered if there could ever be acceptance and forgiveness between those who made the wrong choices and those who fought against them. She cringed, not out of animosity, when she saw a quiet and frightened looking Pansy Parkinson in another cell.
Next to Hermione, Severus' face was impassive and inscrutable, but Hermione's would become the host of a flood if she continued to watch this. So at that point, Hermione slowed down to walk with Harry, who was working the other side at a steady, methodical pace. As it has always been, the Dark divides us from each other. Darkness roaring, roaring at your cellar door. Darkness there and nothing more.
Hermione paid little attention to the details of her surroundings now. She was distantly aware of walking down yet another deathly hall. It was a dreary dream from which she could not awaken.
Each hallway angled slightly to the right from the one before it. In all there were eight such hallways, the last three being unoccupied. Hermione sighed heavily when they exited the last hall and were once again in the entry room they had started in. There were three Aurors stationed there as Azkaban's temporary guards until that day's takeover by Black Flame. Severus informed them that it would only be a few more minutes.
Harry and Severus walked the perimeter of the island, casting a ring of Purple Flame just a few paces away from where water lapped at the shore, effectively keeping out anyone who did not drink the potion first.
They returned to the Aurors inside, who pulled out five small vials of the potion Severus had altered slightly to work only for Purple Flame. They had brought them along from the first batch of potions Severus had delivered to the Ministry. The group walked outside and stopped just before the purple fire. They all drank their potions, shivering with the icy feeling that flooded through them. Hermione watched as they walked through Purple Flame to the shore on the other side, from whence they Apparated away. Darkness flew in from all sides, making her think for a moment that she was now one of Azkaban's prisoners, but then she was being pulled up and outward until she felt herself sitting in a chair. She opened her eyes to the well-lit office.
"Welcome back," Severus said blandly.
Hermione stopped shivering and rubbed her eyes. She looked up to notice him leaning against the back wall, arms crossed, staring out the window.
Severus turned to look at Hermione but averted his eyes to to the window again. Speaking to the glass panes, he said, "The lesson is over. I have an appointment at the Ministry."
"But we didn't even—"
"Homework!" Snape called out, effectively cutting her off. "Your homework is to sit down every day on a pillow, eyes closed, spine erect. Relax and listen. Note any thoughts that arise, but let them go. Keep your focus with you in the present."
If Hermione thought that seemed strange, she did not say so. Instead she said, "Severus, the anger… it wasn't justified. Thank you for letting me see how you—"
"I am not discussing that," Severus declared, interrupting her again. "Do try to arrive an hour early to Thursday's potion lesson for Occlumency practice. In the meantime, be sure you do that exercise everyday for at least fifteen minutes."
"Okay. Just sit? Not doing anything?" she asked for clarification.
"Just sit, and spend time with yourself," he answered. "Now come along. There are Aurors waiting to escort you home and to escort me to my appointment." He opened the door to go out.
Hermione, still sitting, said, "Actually, I was planning to set up my office after our lesson today."
Severus appeared annoyed, but he just nodded and said, "Of course. I shall inform your troll."
He swept out of the room, and Hermione panicked. She should not have been so angry with him earlier without having talked to him about it first. Talked to him like an adult.
She rushed after him. He was already down the hall. How does he move so fast?
"Hold on!" she called to him. He stopped and turned, and she moved quickly to him. "I'll still walk down with you," she said somewhat nervously.
"As you wish," he responded with a nod, recommencing his walk, albeit more slowly.
They made their way down halls and down flights of stairs. Suddenly, Hermione grabbed Severus' hand and held it. She saw him hide his relief by turning a glare on her. He raised his brows and asked, "Just how do you think it would look, if students were to see the Head of Slytherin traipsing down the hall holding hands with someone?"
Hermione shrugged and smiled. "All couples hold hands."
Severus felt her hand slip into his. His breath hitched, and the pounding of his heart alleviated somewhat. He was not sure what to say to her after all this, so he berated her for holding his hand in the school hallways.
"All couples hold hands," she said while grinning.
Couples! Severus' mind repeated in elation.
"Besides," she added, "do you see any students anywhere?"
"Hmm, no indeed."
They were almost to the first floor when Hermione asked in a whisper, "Severus? Don't you think it is a bit inhumane to keep those prisoners in darkness for the rest of their lives? I mean, even if they are Voldemort's… Still!"
"I thought I had conveyed to you the fact that I do not wish to discuss that," Severus said grimly.
"Well, why not? I have some questions, and I think—"
"Naturally," he remarked as they headed down the staircase.
Hermione continued on in exasperation, "Well, don't human beings need light to survive? I saw the despair in their eyes when you summoned the fires. No one could last long living, if you could call it that, in those conditions!"
Severus withdrew his hand from Hermione's as they stood now on a landing, waiting for the stairs to swivel back from their journey to another staircase. He brought the hand to her chin to guide her face to look at him. Staring at her intently, he said, "Oh, and I suppose you think me cold and uncaring for being the one to damn them into eternal Hellfire?"
Severus noted vaguely that she hurriedly answered, "No! I don't think that!" Yet, his own focus zoomed forward through the open windows of her soul to hear, 'did say you have to want the spell to work,' and 'not Draco, but for the rest he didn't care, or did he?' and then, 'Stop!' followed immediately by the same word coming out of her mouth.
He crossed his arms and considered her. The temper he had seen earlier in the evening flared up once again. Hermione's voice conveyed her anger and incredulity as she said, "I cannot believe you just did that!"
"Consider it a lesson in Occlumency."
"What exactly am I to learn from it, sir? Except that, in addition to the ease in which you can cast Black Flame, you have no qualms about invading my privacy?"
"The fact I know you were not being honest just now aside, I did not delve into your mind with great force like that man did to you yesterday. You were not even aware at first. You must pay attention to how it felt, remember it, and watch for it."
"Why thanks for bringing it up, allowing me to recall that lovely experience," Hermione said while trying to sound angry but coming across as obviously sad instead.
The staircase rejoined their landing. Severus did not respond. He started down the steps before they moved away again. What was there to say? 'So sorry, I had presumed that the sharing of the memory would make you aware that the situation was not only difficult for Potter!' Or, how about, 'You have my most sincere apologies, but I must comply with the Minister's outrageous demands of me or join the rest of my fellow cold-hearted criminals in their dark fate!' No, she would not understand.
Instead, he said, "I hate that you had to go through that, Hermione. I will not again infiltrate your thoughts without warning. Does that appease you?"
Hermione sighed. "No, but I don't like this," she said as she gestured between them. They entered the Entrance Hall and stopped at the top of the steps that led down to the dungeons.
"If you could have just talked to me about what happened at Azkaban," Hermione continued, "if you would talk to me at all, I would understand you better."
Severus closed his eyes and sighed softly. He looked at her and shook his head. He said, "There are a multitude of reasons why this will not work between us and only one reason there is anything between us at all. I want it, and you want it—for some unfathomable reason that even you do not quite understand."
"Wanting it to work is enough," Hermione said. She suddenly stepped in closer to him, which surprised him. He lowered his head to look down at her, the movement causing her lips to brush awkwardly over the tip of his nose. She stepped back, embarrassed.
Hermione's attempted kiss had been with the vain hope of dispelling the discomfort between them. Yet, she now stood there eyeing the bottom of the stairs, looking every bit as if she simply could not wait to flee down them and into the dungeons. The unease lingered between them like a wall, so he did not try to pull her closer again to share a proper kiss. "Is it enough?" Severus inquired quietly.
"I hope so," she answered softly.
Severus sighed. "I must be leaving, Hermione. My appointment…"
She nodded and turned, walking down the first steps, saying, "See you Thursday then."
Severus made his way outdoors and headed towards the two figures stationed at the gates in the distance. However important repairing the rift between him and Hermione was to him, right now, he must go see about upholding his promise to Lucius. It was a promise he wanted so badly to keep…
A/N: The Latin used in the story:
ater- used in the context of "black as death"
flamma- flame
surgere- arise
flagrare- burn, flame, blaze
consumere- consume
omnis- every single
corpus- body
tangere- touch
nemo non- all men without exception
Versari- imperative to command existence
In annum- to last for a year
resurgere- rise again
lumen- light
intempesta nocte- in the dead of night
ad- at
granum- core
ex- of
obscuritas- darkness
clarescere- to grow bright