Somewhere Out There: Taunting the Vultures' Grasp

A few days later, another deluge happened upon the town, waking me up in the middle of the night with its loud, crashing thunder and bright flashes of lightning. Lynx had leapt onto my chest out of fright, effectively draining my hopes of ever going back to sleep. I picked her up, cradling her in my arms, going into the living room and setting her on my lap when I sat down in the only chair available. I rested myself back with a book, a regular fiction tale, as she began to fall asleep again. I smiled down at the kitten, hoping that I wouldn't have to use the loo anytime soon.

Soon enough, the story dragged me in, pulling me along with its intricately woven characters and dynamic plot, so much so that the hours flew by until my alarm went off in the bedroom. I felt a wave of tiredness slip over me and mentally cursed myself for not falling back asleep. Work would be hell today, especially if it was still raining. A large blast of thunder confirmed my suspicions and I sighed out loud. I was going to get soaked walking to work…well, bloody hell.

I pushed the cat off of me and went to wash up. A shower was out of the question because of the storm, but I felt a little bit disgusting anyway. Filling the sink with warm water, I brushed my teeth and rinsed my face, feeling a little cleaner than before. I had just reached for a towel when three sharp knocks sounded on the door. My face lifted up and stared into the mirror before I grabbed the towel, wiping my face as I went. I barely missed the cat's tail on my way, a little blinded by fabric, but I managed to reach the front door and open it without too much trouble. I had no idea who would visit me at this hour, but a sharp gasp on the other side caught my ears.

Lifting my face from the towel, I gazed into dark eyes and a blush began to form on my cheeks. I thought to myself that I looked summarily awful, especially since my eyes looked a bit groggy and my brain a bit addled from lack of sleep. We stood there for a long moment, a faint blush crossing his cheeks as well, quite noticeable against his pale skin. A soft purr forced us both to look down as I noticed Lynx weaving around Snape's legs in a completely invasive manner to the man's personal space. I giggled once, twice, before a cough brought me back up into Snape's now-angry eyes.

"Kindly extract your creature from my person, Miss Granger," he stated in a rather commanding tone.

My eyes were smiling as I bent down to cradle Lynx in my arms, her face still turned towards the sour man lingering in my doorway, the rain outside the perfect frame to his bitter demeanor and I realized his right eyebrow was raised expectantly at me, scowl still firmly in place. My brain finally caught up with the rest of me at this point; the realization he was still standing in my doorway, awaiting entry, prompted me to speak.

"I'm sorry!" I practically yelped. "Please come in. I'll put on some coffee?" I suggested.

"That would be acceptable," he agreed, the scowl fading.

I felt his eyes on my back as I walked into the kitchen, opening a few cupboards to draw out two mugs and a coffee filter, placing it in the brewer and filling it with grounds. As it brewed, I turned back to him, arms crossed and eyes searching his own for some explanation as to his appearance on my doorstep at this hour.

"Miss Granger, perhaps you could…dress first?" Snape said, averting his eyes from my form.

Looking down, my cheeks immediately brightened when I realized the shirt I'd worn to bed had gotten wet in my morning wash, effectively showing my deep red bra through the pale fabric. Cursing to anything and everything, I rushed out of the kitchen, tossing off the wet shirt and finding a dark tank to cover until I dressed for work. When I returned, Snape's signature scowl had reappeared along with Lynx, still rubbing and shedding all over the bottoms of his pant legs. I held in the snicker this time, gently extracting the cat from around his legs and placing her on my bed, shutting the bedroom door. I passed him a roll of wide masking tape from one of the long drawers with his coffee as he shot me a questioning glance.

I explained quickly. "It is the cheapest way to get rid of the fur. I use it daily on mine," I said, gesturing to the faint yellow hairs around the bottom of my dark pants. "I only have milk for cream. I can't afford anything else."

"I can drink it black," Snape responded. "The bitter taste is soothing."

I looked at him closer this time, steaming mug in hand, watching him as his eyes closed as he sniffed the brew, a small smile appearing on his features. In turn, I smiled in response, again finding a piece of the man behind the bitter façade that he showed to the world. My stomach did a little flip when his eyes opened again, darting to me as his eyebrow shot up in question to my smile.

"I certainly did not expect you to knock on my door this morning, Professor. Was there something you wanted to discuss?" I asked him politely, hiding my smirk behind my coffee cup, arching my eyebrow right back at him in a pointed gesture.

"I expected you to have more questions, Miss Granger, and approach me about them. You, the know-it-all, not wanting to know everything for once?" he claimed, taunting me with a sharp tone. "Now this is either a lie or maybe even fear?" At the flash in my eyes, he continued, "Miss Granger, the little Gryffindor lioness always standing up for her friends, is afraid? Do you not want to face the reality of what your life could have been or are you content with your cat and your basic duties at that fuel station? You could have had so much more, but the Dark Lord ruined that for you, did he not?" At the lowering of my head, he continued further. "He killed your parents, your friends, Potter, Weasley…are you content with this half-life, Miss Granger? Are you?"

I gave no response. I merely stared into the living room and sipped at the bitter brew I'd made minutes ago. A few moments stretched like hours while Snape gazed at me, eyes searching for an answer to his questions, questions that he wanted answers for, but that I refused to give. After a few more hesitant moments of silence, he spoke again.

"Now, now, Miss Granger, one would think you could stand up for yourself unless you are…wasting your intelligence," he stated, the last few words barely even whispered.

I was on him in a flash, tossing the coffee cup on the table as the liquid splashed everywhere, on Snape, the floor, myself, and everywhere else within reach. He caught my right wrist, but my left hand managed to catch him with a hard slap across the cheek. I looked into his eyes, mine hard as stone with anger, but his flashed with a moment of sadness and even pain as his grip loosened on my right wrist. As he released my wrist, I realized the precarious position in which I was, especially since I was splayed in quite an undignified manner on Snape's lap. When I tried to move, his eyebrows came together in a questioning glance as he moved his left hand down my side.

I felt his fingers linger on the raised scars that he could feel through the fitted tank and a sudden emotional pain went through my system. I wrenched myself away from his grasp, his eyes, and his touch. I picked up the coffee cup in pieces from where I shattered it on the table, watching the dark liquid spread across the table and onto the floor, holding the shards in my hands. Silent tears dripped down my face as I thought about the work routine, my lonely life, and the one person I knew who could destroy my composure with a single word. I gazed into blank air, hoping for a dust particle to latch onto and reclaim my dignity, but there was none to be found. I suffered in silence, too lost in my own pain to be embarrassed by Snape's eyes fixed on my sorrow.

At long length, Snape rose from the chair, gently grasping my hands and taking the pieces from them, disposing of them in the nearby trash can. He grabbed a towel and wiped my hands clean, lingering on the ring Ron had given me and I hadn't yet taken off except to shower and sleep. When he spoke at last, it was in a much gentler tone than I ever thought possible.

"We all have scars, Hermione," he whispered close to my ear.

"Not like this." I replied hoarsely. "Never like this."

Looking towards the clock, I took the towel from him, hanging it up on the small oven handle and going to dress. I had to go to work, mental breakdown or not, and my conscience needed the relief of monotonous work to soothe it. I was needed there, if only for a few hours, but it kept me busy and away from the morbid, secret thoughts that Severus, no, Snape had dragged up moments ago. It was a brutal reminder that I could not deal with the immense pain of loss and the fear of my own lifeless existence drove me to steel myself against it. There was always tomorrow to take on larger issues since there was no point in dwelling on them now.

Quickly changing from my coffee-soaked outfit, I dressed for work, putting the H-shaped earrings in on impulse. I needed bright and gaudy to remind myself to be Nell Johnson, the simple British girl stuck in the middle of a cornfield. When I emerged again, Snape had cleaned up the remains of the coffee and was currently trying to extract Lynx from around his ankles. The cat, of course, would hear none of it and continued her weaving.

"Are you ready to leave, Miss Granger?"

I nodded in response, opening the door to find the rain still coming down, even harder now. I smirked a bit when I noticed where his car was parked, but I turned back to him with an innocent look on my face.

"We'll have to run for it."

"I think I am up to the challenge," Snape replied, tying the last lace of his shoe that the kitten was attempting to chew. "It can't be worse than this mongrel."

"You have to go first since it's your vehicle."

"No, we both must get soaked if you want a 'taxi service', Miss Granger. I could make you walk."

Huffing, I agreed. "Fine, run on three."

We both prepared, looking quite funny in our various "running" positions, as I counted down. Upon my shout of three, Snape almost flew down the stairs, barely catching himself on the last one while I followed much slower behind, launching myself past the last two. As he ran to the car, he suddenly dipped as both feet landed in a huge pothole and dirty water sprayed everywhere, covering Snape and his car. I bent over with laughter, crowing inside at the dirty joke I had just played on my previous Potions professor.

I quickly ran to the car, noticing his wide smirk as he entered the car in time to hear the door click shut, effectively locking me out in the pouring rain. I stomped my foot, spraying water on myself from another pothole, then dragged my fingers and face down the wet glass to annoy the person in cozy comfort on the other side. I saw him inside, eyebrow raised and a deep smirk on his face, the corners of his mouth twisting up as his hair dripped water. Once my hair was completely soaked through, I heard the door click open and I scrambled inside to the dry car.

"I believe I am lucky to have leather seats after your antics, Miss Granger." As I glared at him from my seat, a nasty smile slid across my face as I slid my rear down the seat, making a sharp squeaking sound to which Snape replied, "Then again, possibly not."

"That is for making me wait in the rain and for my hair."

"I believe that I made you wait in the rain for your little 'splash' stunt, you irritating little Gryffindor."

"I could say the same for you, you smart-arsed Slytherin."

His only reply was a smirk as he drove us to "BISTO," putting the heat on low in a futile attempt to dry us. Our dripping locks made small sounds as the drops fell to the leather seats below, both of us content to just be human in that moment. Again, the eerie high notes of a female soprano played softly in the car as a grand piano played in melody under her enchanting voice. It soothed me in a way words could not, drawing me in to the complexity of the music. Too soon, the gas pumps of "BISTO" showed themselves around the last corner, still gleaming even through the rain. This time, we both left the car, Snape locking it as he left.

Sadie, Amber, and Lynn gave us both odd looks as we came in to the store, dripping wet and both smiling at each other. They passed a quick glance between the three of them before Lynn was distracted by a customer, breaking the moment short. I walked behind the counter, grabbing my nametag and laying my keys on the back counter as I walked back out. Both Sadie and Amber bent over laughing, unable to say a word. I merely rolled my eyes at them and began the daily paperwork.

I heard Lynn's voice from my right ear, talking to Snape in a light tone. "How on earth do you manage to look like something the cat dragged in? I would have thought two years in this town would have taught ya better than that," she laughed.

"I assure you, Lynn, it was a mere schoolgirl prank. It will not happen again," he replied as he brought his coffee to the counter. Our eyes met briefly and the smirk returned. "I always demand retribution."

At this, we all laughed, watching as he tried to strut out the door, looking more like a drenched peacock than a tall, formidable man.

"What are those yellow hairs that are all over his pants, Nell?"

I just smiled as I laughed even harder and attempted to dry my hair. Needless to say, I was not very successful at either.

I found out more about Snape's life in White Pine later that week when I met a charming mother and her young son, intermittent regulars at the gas station for the summer month.

Snape dropped me off at work like any other morning, holding the door open for a middle-aged woman with a small child who smiled appreciatively at him, the smile still holding when her eyes recognized who it was. He nodded in recognition, sporting a small smile for the younger child whose hand she gripped tightly. He closed the door before going in, his left hand on my shoulder. Pointing to the woman and her son, he introduced me.

"Nell, this is Kelly and her son David. She's the minister's wife at the church down the road. I teach her older son, Michael, at the secondary school during the year."

Kelly reached out her open hand to shake mine, passing me a warm smile under the summer sun. Her deep green eyes and golden red hair matched her smile, warm with life and love. The youngest son, currently clutching her hand and trying to pull her along, held a small bottle of juice in his left hand. He turned to me and tilted his head to the left before he spoke.

"You're pretty like Mommy is," he said, looking at me. "Don't you think so, Mister?" he asked, turning to look at Snape.

Snape merely smiled, nodding slightly, making me blush as Kelly passed a knowing glance between the two of us. Before she left with David, she spoke to Snape again.

"Is she showing any signs of recovery yet, Sullivan?"

His pained gaze over her shoulder told her what she needed to know as she promised to come by in two days. My brain moved quickly over what Kelly had said and the rumors that were passed around in this town, remembering my discussion with Sadie over the possibility that he didn't come to White Pine alone. It seemed to me that he didn't and he was hiding someone away from the world. Why, however, would remain a mystery as his lips tightened and he entered the building for his daily coffee. The private life of Professor Snape was closed for the time being, its lock made out of sturdy steel, hardened through years of rust and unopened, the key lost somewhere in the fabric of time.

I asked him, my curiosity taking over my better judgement. "Sullivan, who is she?"

His entire body stiffened, his shoulders tensing together. The dark glasses which usually remained off of his face were slid into place, hiding the sudden pain that filled his eyes as a deep frown set into his features. He gazed off into the distance behind the glass doors of "BISTO", towards the other end of town, before looking back at me from behind the glasses. I couldn't tell what he was feeling other than the tension clouding his body, and when he finally spoke, his voice was filled with sorrow.

"She, Miss Johnson, is simply another one of my many failures."

After that, he abruptly left, leaving me shocked by his blunt statement. My curiosity had been somewhat sated, considering I now knew there was another person in the life of Severus Snape. Her existence pained him beyond all measure and it made my heart ache. This man, who could have cared less if he had died in the war, still dealt with his failures and his wrong choices every waking moment. I felt a tear trickle down my cheek before I wiped it away. My heart ached for him, a lost soul who was drifting through days as if they were grains of sand in a large hourglass.

I felt, in that moment, completely useless and no more than added baggage to the man whose life had been ripped apart, just as mine had, by the vicious reign of Voldemort. I wanted to heal him, but I had no idea how. Instead, my walls of emotion crumbled and I wept inwardly for him, a necessary solace for my broken heart.

After that, the next few days fell into an easy system. Snape would drive me to work daily, after which he would come in and get his coffee. We talked rarely, more content to just be in the other's presence, but the tension we both felt over the last long conversation we had began to slip away. I was beginning to learn that dwelling on the past, something unchangeable, was useless. All it brought was painful memories, and though I was still dealing with death and the memories of the way, I needed the comfort of new, positive memories. I smiled to myself when I thought of the wonderful memories I had already made with Snape, still the same, sarcastic bastard that he was at Hogwarts, but also soft and gentle, unlike anything Harry and Ron could have even dreamed.

I happened to think that Snape enjoyed the time we spent together, however brief, and I truly started to speculate on his past with the people in this town. So far, I only knew what Sadie had told me, but I knew there was always more to the story when Severus Snape was involved. As a rather rocky acquaintance started to grow into a friendship, the people of White Pine began to whisper more with the regular crowds, enough for Snape and I both to notice. Older men looked upon Snape with disgust for befriending a young woman as those young women gazed at me with pity. Soon, the words were the same, our relationship deemed as unusual and a cardinal sin in the eyes of these people.

No one seemed to care that two lonely people had become friends, bringing a little bit of light, however tarnished, into the other's small world. No one asked; we never told. It was a brutal cycle of words marred with hate and intentional harm. I fell to the brunt of these attacks, the most vivid reminder of my solitary life in this town, attached to a man who was hated and preyed upon like a sickly calf by a pack of wolves. One such attack left me shocked and deeply hurt.

In preparation for the Fourth of July, our shipments of beer had grown significantly because of supply and demand. I was stocking the single twenty-four ounce cans when one middle-aged man made a disapproving sound, coming rather close to me with his body, locking me in a corner. His beer-tainted breath was terrible as he spoke to me.

"I've seen you with him. He's bad blood, murderin' blood. I would suggest you stay away from him, if you know what I mean." His blurred eyes widened significantly when I stood up straighter, glaring at him as my eyes flared in anger.

"You know nothing about this man. You spread lies, erroneous lies that make you look smart. All it does is make you stupid and lazy," I fought back, determined to defend him to these people.

His anger flared, his meaty hand catching my upper arm hard in a bruising grip. Getting even closer to my face, I almost gagged at the horrible stench of beer. "You think you're so smart, you little brat. You're nothing more to him than a simple whore, his own little plaything. I bet you spread your legs wide for him, welcome him with open arms." His grip tightened, the pain causing a few tears to fall from my eyes as he roughly fondled my breast with his free hand. "I could take a go for myself if you're that cheap."

Roughly pushing him off of me, I darted out of the cooler towards the safety of the second register, leaving the chill of the encounter behind me. I wondered if that is what the town really thought of me, this young British woman whose second job was being a prostitute for a murderer. It sounded rather seedy and was perfect fodder for the gossip mill, the perfect lie to spread and ruin reputations. I, however, could have cared less about my reputation. I protected my friends, no matter the past.

A steaming cup of coffee placed itself at my register followed by the worried eyes of Sullivan. I smiled quickly to clear the dark gloom from my face, ringing up his coffee and making change. I knew he had seen the fear in my eyes, but he decided not to say anything about it. Instead, he asked me something that I would have never expected.

"Do you work on the fourth?"

I nodded, sparing a quick glance back to the beer cooler. The man had long since emerged, paid for his beer, and left, but I still felt an eeriness slip over me that was hard to avoid. He followed my eyes, lips tight as he turned back to me.

"I'll pick you up."

I shrugged nonchalantly at his smirk, silently applauding myself for acting so calm. Butterflies dashed out of control in my stomach as his eyes softened and he squeezed my hand lightly before letting it go. He strode out the door with a confident gait and a spring to his step that I would have put down to magic mushrooms if I didn't know what caused it. It was me.

I beamed from ear to ear when a tinkling laugh came from my left. As I looked over into Sadie's face, her smile was mischievous and genuine.

"You have got it bad."

At that moment, I knew she was right. I had fallen for Severus Snape, a known Death Eater, Dumbledore's murderer, and yet, my heart was light. In my little world of magic and Muggle, I had just changed the entire course of history.

Oh, bloody hell.