ACQUAINTANCE AND WELL-WISHING
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit tribute to the works of JK Rowling who created and, together with her publishers and licensees, owns the characters and settings elaborated herein.
A/N: Spoilers, seventh year fic, begun after OotP and not compatible with HBP or DH. Thanks to all my reviewers and especially to my previewers, Bellegeste, Cecelle and Lady Memory. This chapter assumes knowledge of the story of Giselle. A synopsis is in chapter 25.
Severus drew a long breath as Albrecht prostrated himself by Giselle's body and the curtain fell, rose and fell again, on the first act. His gaze fell on Hermione's hand, still locked in his, and he released it.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I hope it hasn't gone numb."
Like your heart, for so many years?
"I'm fine," she lied, burying her hand in the folds of her wide skirt to surreptitiously work out the stabs of returning feeling. Pain was healthy; it meant being alive.
Around them people were getting up to stretch their legs, chattering about Livinova's Mad Dance and Borinski's athleticism, but Hermione and Severus sat as in a bubble of silence.
"There was nothing wrong with Lily's heart," he said haltingly, turning the programme over in his hands. "She had no choice. She saw where I was going before I knew it myself."
Her teeth hurt from clenching. "She was your first friend."
"My only friend. Until you."
Hermione stared. "But surely – Draco told me you're his family."
"Through long acquaintance and well-wishing." He shrugged. "I'm fond of Draco, but we're not confidants. Our deepest desires remain secrets from each other."
He had a very narrow definition of friend. Harry and Ron hadn't needed to know her deepest desires to be best friends for seven years. Or was it just that they hadn't been interested enough to ask? She couldn't think about that now.
"And Lily was," she said instead.
He studied the seats in front. "In those days, my deepest desires were the magical world and her beside me."
Afterwards, they wedged themselves in the corner table of the little Indian eatery in the next street.
Severus stared at his chicken tikka. "She didn't care that he deceived her. Caused her death. She forgave him."
"Yes." She didn't know what else to say. In his real life too, the maiden had forgiven the deceiver and left the old friend to flounder. "Maybe she would have saved Hilarion too, if she'd had the chance," she suggested, without conviction.
He shook his head. "When Albrecht comes, Hilarion is forgotten."
"I don't think of you as either," she said, stirring her curried dahl, knowing he blamed himself as both. "It's Giselle herself that reminds me of you."
His mouth twisted. "You mean because I was foolish enough to trust the wrong people or because my choices enslaved me to a monster?"
"Because she forgives who wronged her, and so do you."
He let his hair fall forward to cover his face. "Don't romanticise me. I still hate."
"I did sit in your classroom for seven years. I think I noticed that myself," she told him. "But when it came to the crunch, when you had to choose between harming or saving – Well, I saw that too. Giselle didn't try any harder than you to save who wronged you." She'd danced off death for a night; he'd done so for almost two decades.
"Perhaps not," he said, "But she succeeded."
A/N As ffnet prohibits writing about real people, I plucked names out of thin air for the principal dancers, Alia Livinova and Rael Borinski, so I could mention them as background colour. I doubt they'll come up again, but I haven't finished writing yet, so I can't be sure.