A/N- I apologize, this is getting up a week or so later than I had planned. Thank you all for your reviews, it does keep me motivated and I am already started on chapter 19 so, hopefully, it will be up within the next week. I would also like to thank my beta excessivleyperky for I am a sad, sad fool when it comes to technical grammar.
Disclaimer: -A large crystal appears out of nowhere and starts to reflect light across the small room. In an array of colors words appear in the reflections. They state 'Property of J.K. Rowling.'
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Chapter 18- A Visit From Harry
A quick hard knock suddenly sounded at the door, forcing him to turn off his secretly transfigured television and place a concealing charm on it in a rush. Irritated, he went to his door, slammed it open, grimaced at the intruder, then asked, "What is it you want, Minerva? You couldn't possibly be here to speak of Miss Granger, now would you?" He leaned against the doorjamb, hoping to send her the hint her visit was unwanted.
"Ah, but I am, Severus. I have not seen her in three days. What precisely have you done with her, if you don't mind me asking?" She peered over her glasses at him, oddly reminding him of Albus.
"I do mind, and don't give me that look, I haven't murdered her." He paused, raised his fingers to the bridge of his nose, and added, "At least not permanently. Yet." He gave another quick look at her and instantly regretted it. "Why, in the name of Merlin, are you smiling at me?"
"Whatever are you trying to accuse me of, my dearest Potions Master? That I would be reveling in the murder of my favorite student? Tsk-Tsk. That you would think such a thing boggles my mind."
He narrowed his eyes, and asked in a dangerously low voice, "What are you up to?"
She shot him her most innocent look. Gryffindors- as subtle as a lion pretending not gnaw on your leg after the creature just ripped the appendage off. "Why ever would I be up to something?"
He raised his brow. "If I find out you are meddling in my life again, Minerva, and I swear-"
"Oh, I'm not doing a thing. What I am here for is to remind you that the beginning of term starts, at least for us, in three weeks. That means that your lessons, at your more… extravagant lessons," he winced at those words, "must wait until next summer. I would find something less complex for her to do during that time."
"I know perfectly well what is required of me, or have you forgotten that I have been teaching here for nearly two decades?"
"No need to be testy, just passing on a message." She turned away from the door as if to leave, but then paused. "If you will not tell me where she is, might I ask when she will return?"
He pulled back his lips into an annoyed sneer and grabbed hold of the door. "Rest assured she will return by beginning of term, if not before. Good day." He quickly slammed the door shut before she could reply. Nosy old bat, butting into his business like that. What was she after, anyway? The woman had something up her sleeve, and this visit just proved it. The damnable woman was giving him a headache. Besides, he would never let her know that he had conceded her point- she would never let him live it down.
Resigned to the fact he was in need of pain relief, he went to his cabinet and fetched some. Just as he was setting the bottle down after drinking most of it, an idea formed inside his head. He smiled in spite of himself. He quickly turned on his heel, picked up his wand and headed to one Hermione Granger's room- resident annoyance and unfortunately Potion's apprentice, due to a particular lapse of judgment on his own part. He had a lot of work to do in four days, and he wasn't sure whether she would kill him, or hug him for it.
"Grab those on the table and I will show you the next step in our arrangement." Constance pointed to the stack of books on the nearby table.
"You want me to grab all of them?"
"Only three or four. It makes no difference, really."
No difference? But… But it always made a difference! They were books… "I will take the three largest then."
She shrugged. "Suit yourself, 'Mione." Agh, that blasted nickname. Why did everyone always seem to think it was all that good anyway? "Though I am sure that you are misreading what I want you to do."
Hermione gave a quick turn to Constance. What now? It had been three days since that horrible discovery about Snape's past, but there hadn't been any other clues. Then again, she wasn't sure if she was ready to know any more had she been told. Constance had given her that time to explore the large building, and finish the potion that Snape had given her to do. When Hermione finished it on the first try, she knew, just knew, that he had something to do with the other failures; not that she hadn't already come up with that suspicion, but still… "If not for reading, then what for?"
A slowly delivered, thin smirk spread across the woman's face. "Why, for balance, of course." Oh no…
Maybe it would have been better to ask about the past after all… "You don't mean…"
"Oh, I do, I do. It is the very first step in learning silence. Now that you have that potion done for our beloved Potions Master, you will be devoting your time mostly to this."
She wasn't so engrossed that she missed Constance's slip of word. "Mostly?"
Constance shrugged. "Well, he did send you here for… other reasons as well. I think I can tell you more of his past without you being too mentally scarred. Just be happy that he changed sides as he did, and backed off of the alcohol. He's not always been the… kindest of men." She paused, looking away from Hermione. "That, is not my story to tell you either, but I will let you know enough to give you the main idea." She headed for the door. "Follow me."
A few minutes later, Hermione stood in front of a small, easily unnoticed door. Constance turned to her, a hint of a smile on her face, though it was hard to tell. "Well, this is the room we will use for balance. It is a must before the bellowing room, and you will see why when we get there. In the meantime…" Constance turned back to the door, and opened it, brushing her hand in front of her. "After you."
Hermione's brows furrowed momentarily. That mannerism was one that her Master had used before with her. "Ok." She stepped forward and gasped at the small room before her. Plain, but… Odd. The floor was uneven; so uneven one could mistake it for a breeding ground for moles. Before she could grind out the question, she felt a heavy weight plopped down on her head.
"Once you walk the entirety of the room with these upon your head, we will continue. In the meantime, I think I shall take my leave. Do have fun, young Hermione." Constance turned, and was gone.
Hermione gave a soft, resigned sigh, taking a step. The books stayed upon her head, so she ventured another, tottered upon her feet, dropped the books and fell right on top of them. "Oh for Pete sake…" This was going to be a very long day.
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There was something missing. Something missing, and as hard as he was trying to figure it out, he simply couldn't come up with the correct answer. It was driving him nearly insane- that is if he wasn't there already. Not that he should know what should be in Granger's rooms, but he couldn't let go of that annoying little feeling that something was just not… right… He sighed, and tried again to push it from his mind.
He levitated yet another muggle painting into the rooms he had decided to give her. They were rooms that adjoined his, in fact, all he had to do was unlock the door to his study, and her rooms were actually part of his suite, but he was not all that comfortable with her. Hell, he didn't even know why he was doing any of this in the first place. At least he had another two days to figure out a plausible reason for this bit of madness. Maybe because he got overly ambitious after his stupor, and decided that since he didn't have his apprentice to currently shove around and nag at, he might as well give himself something to do? Perhaps it would work, but it sounded too much like caring still. Care, hah, as if he would care how she lived.
He smiled. Actually, it would be more convenient for the both of them. The rooms had a lab instead of a sitting room, and a door that led to the library on the other side. He could keep her busy and out of his hair if need be during the school year.
Why had he sent her away for an entire week? Surely she could have gotten the hint by now… "Gods, I am going insane." He needed to get out. Perhaps a nice chat with Dumbledore, or perhaps Minerva would do him some good? She always got him irritated enough to stop sulking. His mind made up, he left the rooms and headed for Minerva's office, but passed his own in the process. He should stop there. Maybe there was something in there the girl might like? So, instead of his initial goal, he went to his office. "Bloody hell." Wrong choice.
"Ah, hello Snape, Professor Dumbledore said you would be here shortly."
He raised his brow. "I don't even want to know how he knew that, I didn't know that…" He crossed his arms, staring at the uninvited, unwanted and… utterly amusing man in front of him. "Might I ask, what, in the name of Merlin, did you do to yourself? Were you not happy enough looking halfway normal that you had to make yourself into a copy of the very person that has glued himself to you since the very day you met?" He had to literally bite his tongue to keep from breaking out in hysterics. This was better than the news he had previously received about Albus. Harry, the 'I can't die I'm too bloody dense to' Potter, now was sporting bright red hair, brown eyes, and a home knitted blue sweater with the letter 'P' etched on it. Had the boy done such a thing while he was still in school, the rest of the class would have died in shock from his reaction.
"Actually, this was Ginny's idea." He shrugged, and looked around. "So, is Hermione here? She hasn't written at all since all this."
"She is away, actually, and here I thought you'd come to visit me. I'm so disappointed to hear otherwise." He looked over Potter's shoulder. That wall hanging would be nice just above Granger's dresser… Yes, perfect.
"Just because I worked with you for a year, doesn't mean I would stop by and have a chat, just because. You still hate me, and I have learned not to really care."
He maneuvered around Harry. "Pity."
"Besides, I learned more about you than what most people do, and I still see you as an annoying bastard." He paused, "Besides, you haven't answered my question yet."
"She's not…" He frowned, and turned to Harry. "She isn't due back for a few days." He quickly cast a levitating spell on the wall hanging and stalked away from him. "If you wish to continue blabbering your opinions, feel free to follow." Damn it, the boy followed.
When they were back to Hermione's new rooms, Harry whistled. "Nice."
Snape turned his head from Harry and mumbled, "She doesn't know about them yet."
This time, Harry was the one to cross his arms with a malicious smile softly adorning his lips. "Fiddling around, are we? It looks as though you're nervous about something."
He straightened. "Pardon?" He slowly brought his gaze to the younger man's.
"You're nervous."
Snape set his jaw. "I am not nervous. Spend one year in my presence and you think you've unlocked everything. Get this straight. You haven't."
Harry laughed. Had the nerve to laugh at him. How dare he. "You always fiddle when you're nervous, and you're being nice to me. That only happens when you want something, or you're nervous, so it must be the later. Granted, it doesn't happen often, but its true."
"You insufferable little…" He groaned out the last of it and turned from the boy. Now was not the time for murder. No matter how much he would like to do it. Especially to the one standing right behind him. He looked around the room to distract himself, when that odd feeling something was missing returned. He turned sharply to him. "You." He waited for Harry to look up at him. "You know her well enough to pinpoint the smaller details. What is missing?"
Harry's brows furrowed. "What?"
"There is something missing from these rooms, and I want to know what. What is it that Miss Granger had with her at most times that I remember, but does not now?"
"Oh, well that's simple. Crookshanks."
"Crookshanks?" He raised his brow.
"A large, annoying ugly orange cat. I believe it attacked you once."
He winced. Oh yes- now he remembered. "Yes, I think it did. What happened to it?"
"It died about one month before her parents did." He paused, and continued in an off-hand tone, "She never did replace him."
"I see…" He trailed off, minutely glancing at Harry. It was a wonder that they even got along enough to work together in the beginning, but somewhere around that sixth month, they had found an uneasy understanding of one another. It was annoying really. "Brown eyes do not fit you, Potter."
Harry's features briefly flashed shock before quickly dissolving into confusion. "I thought you couldn't stand my eyes?" There was no response. "Will you tell her that I came by? She's doing all right, isn't she?"
"Yes, to both counts. Is there anything else?" He looked up and cringed, noting where the boy's eyes lay.
"The riddle is darker than the last time I saw it." A statement, not a question.
"Yes, well your friend thought it wasn't dark enough to read."
"Do you mind if I…" Harry left the question hanging.
"Only if you reset it, and get it back to first riddle. Miss Granger killed herself to get to that point as it is." He meant it literally, though as Potter merely snorted, he had no idea how true the statement was. "When you are done, leave. I have other things to attend to than to pretend to be friends with you."
He laughed. "Pretend? And here I thought we were by now…" He quickly went to the other room at Snape's glare.
Snape left the rooms. He wasn't nervous. There was no reason to be nervous at all… He went to his desk and retrieved a piece of paper and started to write a note to Hagrid. Fiddling… Oh bloody hell, he was nervous.
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It had taken her precisely three hours to gain the ability to walk across the oddly uneven floor of the small room she had been taken to. Constance, without a single word, grabbed her by the arm and placed her back into her room. Then she locked the bloody door. She hit it again. What was going on now? Why had she gotten locked inside the room? She sighed and slid down the door. It had been nearly an hour since she had been locked in, and she still had no idea as to why.
Constance had seemed friendly the past few days, at least for the most part. There was a time or two that she received a scathing remark, or a look that would kill if it were truly possible. Then again, the woman seemed to have more moods than a menopausal psycho ward patient. There was something not adding up about Constance. If she loved Snape as much as she said, then why hadn't she hunted him down by now, and told him that she forgave him? It simply made no sense.
Hermione was about to pursue this thought pattern, when something holding up a small, unused bookcase caught her eye. She moved over to inspect it closer, and found that it was a small, leather book. Well, there was no time like the present to check out a book, so why not? She reached down and removed it from underneath the leg, carefully bracing the bookcase so that it would not fall, and went to the bed to check it out. OH the bed! She loved it, it was a queen size bed that was so soft and cushy, that when she laid on it, it threatened to eat her alive- but comfortably.
She opened the book- nothing was there. Nothing? That couldn't be, it had to have something somewhere… Wait. It couldn't be like the book that Harry had from Tom Riddle in third year could it? Possibly… She worried her bottom lip a moment before grabbing the old red ink bottle at the work desk in the corner. She grabbed a pen, and wrote 'Hello' in the middle of the first page of the book, and held her breath.
She only wondered briefly about the brownish-red of the ink before something happened. What she wrote faded and reappeared. Hello? Who is this? The words were scratched in an all too familiar scroll.
She quickly replied, 'Who are you?'
'If you don't mind, that happened to be my question to you.'
She half laughed at the words. She had to be right about this. 'My name is Hermione Granger.'
There was a pause before the words reappeared, looking as if he had pressed down too much on the pen while writing. 'GRANGER? Granger is not a wizard name; it is a muggle name. HOW, in the name of Merlin, did a damned MUDBLOOD get their hands on this?'
She stared at it, her eyes wide. She had known that he joined the deatheaters, but… But she had never expected to see those words from him. Indirectly or not, it was his writing, and she felt tears fall from her face.
'Bloody hell, stop that blubbering, you're going to wrinkle my pages.'
She put it down, quickly wiping at her tears. Yes, it was definitely him, she could practically hear him scolding her as she read the words, and they had 'Snape' written all over. She stared at the book after that, trying to figure out what to say in response to the previous insult, when she noticed that the words changed again.
'So, you just stop talking just because I insulted you? Get over it. I desire to meet you.' Meet her? How could he possibly meet her? She leaned over the book, about ready to respond, when the blasted thing seemed to open up, and pull her inside.
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A/N- I hope that you enjoyed the chapter, even though I seemed to have left it at another hanging spot. I blame the Curse Of Authors; it makes us do these things. Anyway, please review, it never fails to inspire.