A/N- Sorry for the long wait again, I am horrible at keeping descent timeframes.

Disclaimer- (Severus Snape, and all the other characters from the HP Universe step forward, all wearing uniforms stating –Property of J.K. Rowling-)

Chapter 20- True Colors of Constance

He was pacing. Merlin, but the day was dragging. He paused, looked at the glowing numerals embedded in his wall and groaned. It had only been six minutes since the last time he looked. Damn it! When the bloody hell was he going to get a reply from that blasted giant anyway?

"Half-giant, Severus."

"Half-giant… Yes, that-" In realization he half-jumped, whirled on the silent intruder and glared at the strange man. "I don't even want to know how you knew what I was thinking, let alone how you snuck up on me like that."

"You're nervous, Severus. Your defenses go down when you're nervous."

He narrowed his eyes and swallowed the groan that threatened to surface from his throat. "Why is it everyone else seems to know more about my nervous habits than I do?" He made his voice as acidic as possible. Damnable old man, just because the war was over, did not mean his defenses went down when nervous.

Albus' eyes seemed to glow a moment before holding out his hand suspiciously. "Lemon drop?"

He felt the corner of his lip twitch upwards. "No."

The Headmaster shrugged and redeposited the offending candies into his inner robe pocket. "Very well, Severus, very well." A slight frown formed on the man's face. "Unfortunately, I have some news. Narcissa came by earlier this afternoon. She wanted me to give you something?"

Severus raised a brow. "Poison? A mini plush servant of death with a greeting card telling me that she loathes me and wishes me dead? I could hardly imagine she was going to offer me pleasantries since I'm the cause of her family now resting in the local mortuary."

Albus' tone took that of soothing, "Now Severus, you know that is-"

"True? Yes, I know, Headmaster. Perhaps you should inform me of something I am not currently privy to?"

"You should save your theatrics for someone who cannot see past them. I know that you have done your best to forget all your thoughts, as well as your feelings towards the Malfoys. Or, rather,"

Snape whispered, "A mere annoyance..."

Albus ignored it and simply continued on. "… a certain Malfoy, ever since the final battle. Harry had to overcome certain surprises, as did you. It was not Narcissa's wish to bring you this, but Draco's."

His eyes darted back to Albus, a sudden urge to heave up the contents of his stomach overcoming him, as well as an unacknowledged panic. "DRACO? Was that boy so daft as to give me, ME, something after that… That ATROCITY he committed during the battle? I will have absolutely nothing to-" He had been so furious with his ranting that he had not noticed the annoyed spasm of the older man's jaw during his tirade. Though, in retrospect, maybe he should have.

The Headmaster took a small step towards him, lightly raising his hand and bellowed, "SIT DOWN!"

Severus was suddenly launched across the room and fell, as gracefully as he could muster under the circumstances, into the large armchair next to his fireplace. Too surprised to say anything else, he managed a soft, "As you wish, Headmaster." It was so rare an occasion that Albus lost his temper that he dared not try to worsen the condition. Yes, he Severus Snape, hateful man of Hogwarts extraordinaire, was leery of the older man. He briefly raised his eyes to him and cringed. Especially when he smiles like a child getting gifts for Christmas.

"Now then, as it seems you are quite finished with your unwarranted tirade," he gave Severus a pointed look, "I will take the liberty to continue. Considering the fact that the boy did it in your best interest, even though you might not agree with that sentiment, he obviously believed it."

Severus shifted uncomfortably in his seat and moved his eyes to the empty fireplace. "Obviously."

While the man was turned away, Albus gave him a sympathetic smile before reaching back into his robe pocket, taking out a small bundle and placing it on the table. It rapidly grew in size until it was about four by two feet in size, and rather flat. Severus turned and eyed it. That couldn't be what I think it is… Could it? "That isn't…?" He couldn't bring himself to say the words. So what is it?

Albus didn't respond a moment, and started to head towards the door. "Would you like me to have Dobby bring you a small dish of flan? I know how you like it, Severus."

He clenched his jaw. "You already know my answer to that question, Headmaster." He didn't look away from the wrapped up package. Dumbledore's avoidance had confirmed his belief. It was…

Albus frowned at the sight of Severus' blank expression, sighing. "Goodnight, my boy. I…" He left the words hanging, as if he didn't know how to finish the sentiment, and when Severus didn't respond, he left, closing the door quietly behind him.

Alone in the room, he stared at the package. So, this must have been a good laugh for the boy, to leave him something like that. Draco must have hated him more so than he had ever thought possible. No, he wouldn't open it, but he wouldn't destroy it either. So what to do with it then?

While he mused over the question, a small owl found it's way into the room and landed on said package. Broken from his thoughts, he irritably grabbed the note that was attached to the birds impatiently shaking leg and opened it.

Professor S. Snape (as dictated and corrected by Nyhtengail's Shop for Misplaced Animals)

I'm sorry Professor Snape, sir, but it seems as though the latest litter just was born yesterday morning. Won't be able to buy one for at least three more weeks, if not a month. Are you sure that you want one of these fine creatures? A bit pricey if you ask me. Anyway, I shall see you about the arrangement on my return to Hogwarts later this week.

--Rubeus Hagrid

P.S.- Thank you for using Nyhtengail's Owlry, please stop by and shop at Nyhtengail's, the perfect place for all of your exotic animal needs.

Severus snorted at the note. It would figure that Hagrid would have the note dictated; he was never good at spelling much of anything. Not to mention the large man's handwriting was worse than ¾ of the first-year student body. He sighed, and leaned back in the chair. Miss Granger's new familiar would simply have to wait then. Besides, he was suddenly no longer in the mood for company.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

She started to stir, waking up on her own. Before she opened her eyes, she stretched, yawned and mumbled something around the lines of 'love this bed, utterly sinful.' Slowly she opened her eyes and… "Aiieee!"

She was staring at two overtly huge eyes. It was Wretch… Wait… why? Before she could voice anything from the slowly clearing fog that currently made up her brain, Wretch spoke. "It is about time, Miss Granger, Wretch has been waiting for Miss to be waking for some time now. Honestly, Wretch has better things to do than watch Miss sleep." The creature folded its arms to add to the point.

Hermione frowned. "If you were in such a hurry, then why didn't you wake me then?"

A smirk fell on the long thin lips of the creature. "The Mistress told Wretch not to wake young Hermione Granger. So Wretch did not."

She snorted, the creature reminded her of Snape, with its arms crossed and smirking like that. "You knew him didn't you?"

Wretch didn't ask whom. "Wretch waited on Master Severus for some time, Miss. No more chitchat though. The Mistress wants Wretch to bring Miss to her, so Wretch will comply." It promptly jumped off of the bed, snapped its fingers and Hermione suddenly found herself dressed. "Miss must come quickly. Hermione Granger will find it in her best interest if she follows the Mistress' orders." It narrowed its eyes. "Wretch also advises not to talk of the book to the Mistress either. Wretch warns Miss that Mistress Monroe can be horrible, in fact, right evil if Mistress so chooses."

Hermione grudgingly got out of the bed and started to follow the elf, wondering about its elegant dress and the way it spoke of its caretaker. "I thought all of you tried to hurt yourselves as punishment for speaking improperly about wizards."

Wretch stopped and whipped around. "Wretch only takes care of Miss Monroe on orders from Wretch's Master. Wretch hates the Mistress, and will not speak kindly of her. When Miss Monroe finally decides to leave this world, Wretch will happily seek out her true Master. Until then, Wretch will be bound here."

My, but the creature was rather well spoken- for a house-elf at least. "But you are free, that dress…"

"Is none of Miss' concern. Now follow Wretch before the Mistress gets angry."

Confused, Hermione followed, new thoughts and questions entering her mind. Her Master had a House-elf? If it cared for Professor… Master Snape as much as it would seem, then why stay, if it were free, as the dress would indicate? She shook her head to clear her mind, with a note-to-self that she would worry about Wretch later.

Soon they were in a small unused looking sitting room that had at least an inch of dust on everything, cobwebs everywhere. "I haven't had need for this room since my Father died. I hadn't planned on ever using it again. Alas, I was wrong. It will be you to be the last," Constance said.

Hermione turned to her, and noticed a small smile on her face that seemed completely contradictory. Her eyes were hard-set, an almost painful look to them, as a crease formed between the woman's brows. She looked like she had eaten something rancid. Yet, her smile betrayed none of that emotion, and seemed to have a happiness to it that Hermione had never quite seen before. "What room would that be?"

"Why, the booming room of course." She offered a small chuckle before sweeping her arm behind her. I suppose this is the best way… I tried so very hard to find another way to teach you the art of silence, yet it seems this way will still prove the best…" She trailed off and narrowed her eyes at Hermione and the pained look faded into one of amusement. "Severus always called it the bellowing room, he rather hated it, you know. Follow me." She opened the rusted looking door in front of her and walked into the room.

Hermione followed. It was… very large. In fact, it was rather beautiful. Large purple velvet drapes hung on every wall, even the ceiling. In the center of the room were three large muggle-style fans dropped from the ceiling, each at a different speed. On each wall there were ten to twenty clocks, set at different times, a miniature train that went around the room and a large sculpted fountain towards the back of the room in the shape of a large cobra spewing water from its mouth as it reared on itself, cascading the illuminated water down its coiled body. She gasped at the beauty of the room as she noticed the intensity of it all. Small crystal chandeliers hung about the room suspended midair, sounding their beautiful tune as the air from the fans blew at them, the iridescent light highlighting everything in such a way it could only be described as breathtaking. "Its…beautiful…"

Constance's tone sounded dull, "Yes, I suppose it is."

Hermione turned to find the woman near the door. "Constance?" She suddenly felt as if something were off. Very off.

The woman retreated further towards the door, drawing Hermione nearer with every step. Before she could react, Constance had her wand in her hand and whispered something, what she could not tell, and felt herself fall to the floor as if a hundred little ropes and just wrapped around her body and tugged her there. "I would advise you not to move, Hermione."

"What's going on? Why are you doing this?" She suddenly felt panicked. This was not right. This was simply not right. The phrase repeated itself in her head in a chant. Not right, not right…

Constance gave a small, deep-throated chuckle as a small smirk formed on her lips. "You see, young Hermione, it seems that Severus has taken you on as his apprentice. I think… I think I might not come back for you. Just so you know… this room made someone go so entirely crazy that they killed themselves within two days time, and you're not due back until after that." She backed further towards the door. "This room may seem beautiful to you now, but I assure you that you will grow to hate it just as much as your dear Master does, or perhaps even more." She backed up even further until she was even with the door. "The moment the door closes, the spell will kick in, and your bonds will free in three minutes from…" she paused a moment, a finger in the air, "now."

Oh gods… She was… But… "I don't… I don't understand… You… You were…"

"Oh stop the bloody hysterics, they wont get you anywhere. I don't care. I never really cared much for people; I simply learned to play nice. But, in order for my plans to succeed, you must die. I am so entirely sorry, but it is for a good cause, really. You see- he will be safe again when you die. I cannot let him commit suicide through you… I simply cannot."

"But… How could you?" Anger was starting to replace the panic. Anger that signified a reluctant acceptance- she could not move. There was no way out. There was no hope. Somehow, those thoughts seemed forced to her. Since when did she give up so easily? She shouted, "HOW COULD YOU?"

Her face was devoid of all emotion except a small hint of sick amusement. "That answer is simple, Hermione. In the eye of the snake is a small camera, not that you will remember in a few minutes, but it is there. I have at least ten pictures that I have taken of my own works. Not all the pictures in that room were my Father's art, you know."

Hermione suddenly felt sick. "You're mad, completely mad."

Constance grabbed hold of the door. "Oh, and before I forget… Let me teach you the art of silence, and life will cease to be. For without life there is no pain, and without pain there is no memory but pain itself. Sound is full of pain, so be silent, and the pain will cease to be." And the door slammed, leaving Hermione alone in the booming room.