Chapter Eight – Taking Over Me

But who can decide what they dream?

The next morning, Severus woke up with a terrible hangover. He'd fallen asleep in his chair, and on top of the pounding headache, his neck and shoulders were so stiff he could barely move. A couple of quick healing spells helped his muscles relax, but they did nothing for the throbbing in his head, so he made his way to the cauldron to brew a cure.

As he counted out the ingredients, he thought over the events of the previous night with indignation. He needed to start focusing all his efforts into his previous mission—finding out more about the woman who had saved him—and not into pursuing anything with Hermione. It was only a fruitless venture, and he needed to come to terms with it.

His brewing calmed him, and when the potion was finished, he swallowed the lot and could feel the pain gently subsiding. After an hour, it hadn't quite vanished, but he felt well enough to make his way to Minerva's office. Though he hadn't given it as much thought as it probably deserved, he'd decided to take her up on the offer she'd given him.

He could definitely use the money, and the stability. After all, he was only staying at Hogwarts because Minerva had insisted, and he didn't want to out welcome his stay. He didn't like being a charity case, and the least he could do was pay her back by agreeing to fill the position.

When he reached her office, he received a scolding for missing breakfast. After he explained that he had been in no condition to show up, and reminded her that it was none of her business, he expected more admonishment, but instead, he was greeted with a smile.

"Out late with Hermione again, Severus?" she said.

"I know what you are implying, Minerva, and I assure you that isn't the case."

"Oh?" she replied, "I was under the impression . . ."

"You were incorrect. Leave it at that."

"You two spend so much time together, though . . ."

"Minerva, I refuse to have this conversation with you. If I cannot convince you of the truth, I have no choice but to let you continue with your delusions. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got potions to attend to."

He turned to leave, but as he went he heard Minerva speaking under her breath. "You haven't changed a bit, Severus."

He turned back around and raised an eyebrow at her.

"You deserve to be happy," she said, "It's time you started seeing that."

He said nothing in reply, but let the door close slowly behind him, and made his way back to his quarters, irritated. He didn't need anyone telling him how to live his life.

Severus spent the rest of the day brewing again, bored with the orders sent to him from Madam Pomfrey. The repetition was driving him mad, so he decided to do a bit of experimenting. He poured over his old notes, revising some recipes and testing out others. The day was consumed by his work, and it was nearing evening when a knock came on the door. Suspecting it was Minerva coming to drag him out to the Great Hall to eat, he approached the door.

"Intrusive woman . . ." he said under his breath.

When he opened it, however, he unfortunately met the face of Potter.

"Yes?" said Severus, keeping the door nearly closed.

"I — er — need to talk to you."

"Concerning?"

"Hermione. She sent me an owl —"

Severus closed his eyes fleetingly. He wasn't in the mood to talk about her, especially with him. "I'm afraid I'm busy at the moment."

He began to close the door, but Potter had the audacity to stick his foot in the way.

"Look, I know you probably don't want to talk to me, but there are some things we need to discuss," he said.

When he didn't relent, Potter continued. "Hermione is one of my closest friends, and I'm looking out for her best interests. She sent me an owl this afternoon and she seemed really upset about whatever happened last night. Just let me in for a moment, then I promise I'll leave you alone."

"Fine."

Reluctantly, he let Potter in. He went back to his cauldron, and signaled for Potter to start talking. He wanted to get this over with.

"Alright," he said, "Hermione sent me an owl, like I said. She said that you two had been visiting a bookshop, and that you told her you weren't feeling well so you decided to turn in for the night."

"That's correct," Severus said as he began to chop up some daisy roots.

"Only, she said you didn't look unwell. She said you looked angry, and that you were acting strange."

"Is that all?" he replied. "I assure you, I was feeling unwell."

"I'm not here to argue with you," Potter said. "I was only telling you what she said. I'm here to make sure you understand what you're getting into."

"I'm fully capable of —"

"I know you're capable of taking care of yourself. I was talking about Hermione. She likes you a lot, you know, and I don't want her getting hurt. I know that you and I don't always see eye to eye, but just promise me you'll take care of her."

"What are you talking about, Potter?"

"It's pretty obvious that you two . . ." he trailed off.

For the second time that day, the assumption that the two of them were dating came at him like a slap in the face. It was hard enough dealing with what he'd come to terms with the night before; he didn't need constant reminding of what might have been, had circumstances been different.

"Get out," he said, not even looking up from his cutting board.

"But—"

"Out!"

"Alright, I'm going. But this isn't over," he said as he turned to leave.

Severus scowled at the door after it had closed.

"I assure you it is."

By the following Friday, Severus had begun creating a new potion. He wanted to fine-tune his memories of the woman who had saved him—he'd been using his pensieve repeatedly during the week, but some of the details were still vague. The potion would be difficult, but if it worked, it would help him remember.

That evening, he made his way across the grounds and into the forest to gather ingredients. He could purchase them, but by harvesting them he could ensure they would have a higher potency.

When he reached his destination, he barely got started when he heard footsteps behind him. He extinguished his wand light and slunk into the shadows. A person walked into view, unable to see him.

"Severus? I know you're here somewhere." It was Hermione. Severus sighed.

He stepped out and re-lit his wand. "How did you know where to find me?"

"I was on my way up to the castle to see if you were okay and I saw you walking down here. Why didn't you come down to Hogsmeade?"

His shoulders tensed. "I was preoccupied."

"Severus, what is going on?"

"I'm harvesting—"

"I don't mean that. I meant, what is going on between us? We were getting along great until last week, and for the life of me I can't figure out what happened."

"Nothing happened, Hermione. I simply realised that I needed to be spending more time focusing on important things, and this is one of them," he replied, but it came out as more of an insult than he'd intended.

"I suppose I'm not important, then?"

He sighed. "I didn't mean—"

"What, then? What is so important that you can't spend time with me?"

"As I tried to tell you, I'm harvesting roots. In a few minutes, the moonflower will be blooming and I'll be able to harvest that, too. I'm creating a new potion that should help improve my memory so that I can . . ." He paused. "It's not important. I am busy and I do not wish to be disturbed."

"So you can what?"

"It's not important," he reiterated.

"I think it is, but I'll respect your privacy. I do understand the intense gratification of creating something. Did you think I'd be upset that you were spending more time with your potions than with me? Didn't you think that I would appreciate your work?"

"I did not doubt your appreciation of innovation," he said, "I was simply too focused to think of anything else."

"I see. Well . . . I suppose I'll leave you to your harvesting. Please send me an owl once you're finished with your potion," she said.

"I will. I still need to talk to you about the woman of the unmarked grave, after all."

Hermione took a small step toward him. "Is that all you want? After I tell you, are you going to be done with me?"

"I never said —"

"How could I have been so stupid?" she said as she began to pace back and forth. "All this time, I thought you were actually interested in getting to know me, but you were just waiting until I would give you the information you wanted."

He gave her a dark look. "I never said that."

"You didn't have to," she said, nostrils flaring.

"Do not attempt to presume you know what I am thinking," he countered.

She was silent then, but her eyes were teeming with emotion. Her anger flashed in them, but there was something else there — Severus couldn't decipher it. He turned back to his task, hoping she would leave. It was hard enough to work without her standing over him.

Hermione followed, but she remained silent. She watched him as he worked, and he chose to ignore her. He wanted to interrogate her about the woman, but knew he'd get nowhere if he tried now; he'd ruined that in his haste to gather information. Once again, he sighed inwardly, chastising himself for losing his touch.

After a few awkward moments, it was Hermione who finally broke the silence.

"Are we finished, then?"

"Finished with what?" he replied, knowing deep down, what she meant.

"Finished with each other? You don't have to be so subtle about everything, you know. If you want me to go away and leave you all alone—" her breath hitched, and she fought off a bad case of the hiccups before continuing. "I will leave you alone, if that's what you want."

Severus allowed himself to take in her features for a moment. Her hair was frizzing at the ends, her lip quivered, and her eyes sparkled with what had to be the verge of tears. He thought he'd never seen anything so pitiful.

"That isn't what I want," he said quietly. He was done with subtlety, at least for the evening. He'd tried to make her take a hint, but unfortunately she was as stubborn as she'd always been, and didn't understand his intentions. Did he want her to leave him alone forever? Of course not. Did he think that things between them would end like that anyway? Definitely. There was no use in denying the truth; they were not a good mix, and anything he did to draw her in would only cause grave consequences. He was better off cutting the connection now, when it was least painful.

"Then what in Merlin's name DO you want? I just need an honest answer, please."

"You want a completely honest answer?"

"Yes. Please."

He didn't know if it was the quiet setting, or if it was simply the fact that he was talking to her, but he decided to honour her request. Doing so would only help her understand his plight.

"I don't want you to leave me alone. I need you to. I cannot fathom the trouble we'd both be in if this were to continue, Hermione. It does neither of us good to pretend we could ever be anything more than pleasant acquaintances. I'm offering you a chance to never look back, and I beg you to take it."

The tears building up in her eyes swelled and spilled down her cheeks. She gave a soft little sob, and then turned away, walking away, and out of his life. Reluctantly, he hoped it was forever.