A/N: Wow, a rather quick update! I got time so I thought why not give my lovely readers an early chapter! After all, you keep my spirits up by leaving meaningful reviews. A heartfelt thank you to each one of you! It's a pleasure hearing from my readers. Enjoy!
Chapter 25: Where There's A Will
On Wednesday evening, a knock on Severus' office door disturbed him when he was writing to the Apothecary. He was short on some ingredients that were needed for the new batch of potions he had to prepare for Granger.
"Enter." He didn't pause writing.
The door opened to admit Draco. Severus had hardly seen the boy outside classes since the beginning of the term. The boy was wary of him but not without his usual air of superiority.
But Severus had been exceptionally disgusted with the boy recently—of course, he could not express that. Since Minerva narrated to him what Granger had told her about her confrontation with the boy and his underlings,
When he had taken the Dark Mark in the summer, Severus thought the boy was forced to do so, as a punishment of Lucius' shortcomings in the Department of Mysteries. He had not been present the night Draco was marked. so he could only assume. But since knowing of the beat's conduct with Granger, Severus was doubtful to the boy's intentions. For all he knew, the very path he wanted to follow led to the Dark Lord.
Four against one, just how James Potter and his cronies used to prefer. But Granger's confrontation that evening was against four batchmates capable of dark magic, more danger than Potter and friends had ever posed. Severus was pleased to know that the girl had defended herself well, with the help of a bout of Wandless Magic. But that did not alleviate the sheer revulsion Severus had felt in regards to his Slytherin charges.
Minerva would soon see that the lot did not get away with impunity.
"Professor," the boy nodded.
"Mr. Malfoy," Severus remained on formal terms.
He beckoned somebody behind him. Two second year Slytherins entered his office sheepishly, shuffling their feet as they walked. Severus raised a brow in question.
"Sir, they were caught in a duel, of sorts, in the middle of the common room," Draco explained.
Severus set his gaze on the two boys in question. "A duel?"
Castor and Hilkin, both their families did not have associations with Death Eaters. "Mr. Castor, Mr. Hilkin, care to explain your behaviour?"
As the boys started mumbling something about 'He called me a pitiful mouse' and 'He hexed me first', Severus put his quill down. He followed their story patiently. Those were some of the reasons why he did not quite enjoy being a Head of House. He truly disliked dealing with children. Most of the time he found himself clueless and without anything but a reprimand to offer.
So he simply settled for his customary speech of House unity. "What is it that we, as Slytherins, follow by heart, Mr. Castor, Hilkin?"
"We stand together, Sir," Hilkin replied, red faced, but knowing better than to look down when he talked.
"And?" His gaze settled upon the other boy.
"We do not...backstab a Slytherin," the Castor boy replied.
Severus hid a smirk at the choice of words. "Precisely. And?"
The two younger boys looked horrified. They glanced at each other, at a loss.
"Slytherins protect their own." It was Draco who answered. But neither his address, nor his eyes were at the boys. His wary eyes were stuck on Severus, delivering a subtle, silent message.
"Did you two stand on these aforementioned basic principles?" Severus maintained his persona, ignoring the blonde boy.
That was enough to put both the boys sufficiently to shame. They mumbled their apologies, trying to show their Head of House how sincerely they regretted their actions.
"Detention, both of you," he declared begrudgingly so. "Friday, after classes. Be in my office, not a minute later."
"Yes, Sir."
"Sorry, Sir."
"I do not wish to see a repeat of your actions," he said sternly. "Am I making myself clear?"
The students said a word in affirmation before Severus dismissed them. Now he would have to see to a detention on Friday and waste his time.
Draco was still standing before him, though. "Is there anything else, Draco?" He used the boy's name deliberately. It always seemed to push the right string and the boy did not take long after that to start blabbering his mind. Severus needed that right now. He still did not know what task the Dark Lord had assigned to the boy, in which he was to assist him.
"Why did Mother go to meet you in the summer?" He asked bluntly.
"That remains between your mother and myself," Severus said smoothly.
"Father is still in Azkaban," the boy said without preamble.
"So I am aware," Severus said, eyeing the boy
"I have been given one chance to let him out," he said. "This task that is given to me is the only way I can let Father out."
"And the task in question would be?" He raised a brow.
"Sir, despite what Mother had said, I do not need your help," he completely ignored the question. "Yes, Aunt Bella told me."
"Draco, if you succeed in the given task, Lucius will, no doubt, be out of Azkaban," Severus drawled. "But, Merlin forbid, if you do not..." He let the rest to the boy's assumption, quite enjoying himself.
"I will succeed, and I don't need any help," he said with determination. "I will not interfere in your task if you don't in mine."
Severus folded his arms. "My task?"
"The Mudblood," he said derisively. "I know she has been planted here to keep an eye on Potter."
"I cannot say that that was exactly a matter of secrecy," he said sarcastically.
"I also know that she's not loyal to the Dark Lord." Draco waited for his reaction. But Severus maintained his icy expressions.
"She attacked us in the dungeons—Crabbe, Goyle and Nott were with me," Draco said with a sneer. "But I will not breathe a word of it to the Dark Lord, if you keep away from my business."
"And if I don't, will you narrate to the Dark Lord how a Mudblood assaulted four wizards—one Death Eater and three in making, alone?" Severus said coldly, but with a hint of amusement.
Draco's face flushed. "I will make sure to get her to pay for that."
"You will not lay a finger on her," Severus growled. "She is an asset for us," he hastily added. "She is our eyes to keep a watch on Potter. She is of more importance than you at this point."
"She is not working for you," Draco spat accusingly. "Or she wouldn't have dared to attack us."
"For that, she will be adequately punished," he quelled the disgust he felt. "But I, and only I, decide her fate. Not you."
Draco smirked. "It will be interesting to see how you're outwitted, Professor."
"Acknowledging the wits of a Mudblood?" Severus drawled. "I should hope we are not nurturing a traitor here."
"I know how you twist one's words and put them in one's own mouth," he spat.
"A very handy skill, you should learn," he said callously.
That seemed to have seethed the boy enough. He clenched his hands into fists. Draco opened his mouth to counter him, but snapped it shut.
"You are excused," he said dismissively and picked his quill up.
Draco stormed from his office, incensed. Severus knew the boy would never willingly disclose to him what the task was. But he had other ways to find out before the boy could manage to accomplish it.
What he was, however, concerned about was Granger. If by off-chance, Draco did tell the Dark Lord of her misadventure in the dungeons, the dark wizard would be warned of her loyalties. Though he had said to the boy that Granger was too important to be harmed, the Dark Lord, if found her threatening, would kill her without a second thought at strategy.
Another headache, he huffed, rubbing his temples. Literally and metaphorically.
UUUUUUU
After curfew, Severus took extra precaution before entering the Hospital Wing. Although Granger had asked Potter not to venture out after curfew, the boy was not one to follow the rules. He stood outside the door for five minutes, keeping his ears vigilant of any sound coming from inside. It was a relief that the only patient currently residing in was Granger or he would have to take measures like Polyjuice to visit her. It would not bode well if he were to be found by the girl's little friends or Poppy.
"Karly!" He called Granger's house-elf, then smirked to himself on thinking what Granger's reaction would be on addressing the elf as such. The girl was so thin-skinned whenever they touched the topic of house-elves. She did have a high sentiment for the species but not one the Wizarding World would easily accept.
The house-elf appeared with a pop . "Master Professor Snape, Sir, has called Karly?"
Severus ignored the enthuse in the elf's tone. "Is Miss Granger alone?" He asked directly.
He could swear he saw the elf's eyes glittering at the inquiry. "Yes, Master," the house-elf replied.
"Good," he said dismissively. The house-elf understood his tone and disappeared after bowing.
That sorted, he opened the door and walked inside the Infirmary. He glanced at the row of the empty beds with satisfaction. The green, thick-fabric curtains were drawn shut around her bed, as usual. Severus walked to the barrier. "Miss Granger?" Every time he came so late, he hoped she wasn't asleep.
"Professor, please come," she replied politely. Severus drew the curtains back and stepped in.
Her arm was out of the sling. Deep, red lines of scars marked the cadaverous skin around elbows, sliding down to the middle of her forearm. But the salve would see to them. The bones had recuperated themselves. The odd angle at which he had found her arm was finally corrected. He did not like to recall that night.
The copy of A Tale Of Two Cities rested on her lap. It was a case-bound copy. But the covers were smooth and the pages, though getting sallow with time, were kempt. Vaguely, he had an urge to inhale in the pages of the book.
Before he could pull the familiar armchair to her side, she perked up. "Sir, can I do the spells first?" She flexed her arm, "I just wanted to try my wand again..."
Of course, she would. For a wizard—a witch in her case, a wand was akin to an appendage to the body. The lack of it for long could highly disconcert one. Then, there were those who gave magic up, willingly or not... Merlin knew how they could cope.
"Of course," he retrieved the unfamiliar wood from his sleeve. Granger's eyes lit up in delectation. She took the wand in the deft digits of her right hand. Severus gave her time to leisurely feel the warmth that was sure to spread down her arm. He sat in the chair, not disturbing her as she revelled in rediscovering the smooth wood.
Severus was always vigilant of such actions for they showed a will to live in her. Embracing her magic was a sign, yes.
She flicked her wand and performed a simple Lumos. Simple though the spell was, her delight was not. She was beaming. With another easy Wingardium Leviosa, the tome on her lap was floating in mid-air.
When was the longest he had been away from his wand? Never more than an hour, if he did not consider the three-week long exile to Azkaban all those years back. It had been days for her. But he could not return her wand, still. That would be unwise. He would have return it before Monday in any case, though. But with a Charm on her wand that would notify him if she cast any spells to harm herself. Not a permanent Charm, it needed to be refreshed every few weeks. The Charm was not without faults. But it would have to suffice. Not letting Granger resume classes would open room for questions from Poppy.
When she was sated, she wordlessly asked for the items. The cleaning spells did not take long, neither did she relish in performing those. Severus took the items back, and held out his open palm for her wand.
Granger hesitated. But with a delicate flex of his eyebrow, she complied without complaints. Though her slight reluctance did not go amiss.
"It felt like it did when I first held my wand," she said with a mesmerised quality to her voice. "I know a wand only channelises our magic that is present in our core. But still..."
"Yes, that is understandable," he granted. "A wand to a wizard is akin to-"
"-a covering to the pages?" She held up her novel and chuckled.
Amused, he granted. "Yes. A farfetched but plausible comparison."
"That was how it felt, like a covering of sorts, when I first had my wand," she told from memory, a ghost of a smile on her face. "Like I finally knew where I belonged, after being something like an outcast all my life."
"Being raised in a Muggle society is a challenge to the Muggle-borns," he said from experience. Not many Muggle-borns had made it to Slytherin in the past years. But he knew because Lily was one.
"It's very hard, at times..." She sighed. "Especially with bouts of Accidental Magic—in public."
"Yes, that can be problematic to explain to the spectators," he considered.
"No, it's harder to explain to oneself, actually," she said. "My first bout happened when I was...five, I think. I was in school and we had our Sports Day."
"Sports Day?" He questioned. Severus had been home-schooled by his Mother prior to joining Hogwarts. He had not much concept of Muggle education system.
"Students participator in different races and outdoor games," she briefly explained. "It's a competition. You get a prize if you win."
"Win the race?" He sneered.
"I know it might sound foreign but it's very common in Muggle schools," she shrugged. "Anyway, so I was participating in the lemon-and-spoon race-"
"In a what?" He asked with narrowed eyes.
She chuckled, "You have to hold the spoon in your mouth, from the handle, while balancing a lemon on the bowl. And you have to run. If the lemon falls off, you are disqualified."
"That is an absurd practice," he remarked. "What does one even gain from it?"
"It's for kids. It is an activity for children to develop concentration and patience," she said simply. At his look of bafflement, she shrugged. "It's fun!"
At that, he raised both his eyebrows. "It is quite hard to comprehend your idea of 'fun', Miss Granger."
She didn't respond to that. "So I was in that race, fervently wishing that the lemon doesn't fall. I really wanted to win!"
"Why am I not appalled?" He said sarcastically.
"And I did win," she said, building up the climax, "But—they found out my lemon was sticking to the spoon. And I had not done anything to make that happen."
"A Sticking Charm," he contributed.
"Yes," she huffed. "I was disqualified for cheating."
Severus had to focus very hard not to laugh at her tone which suggested she would still very much like to go back in time to change that particular result. The girl was aggressively competitive.
"When I later checked, there was nothing sticky to have the lemon on the steel," she was sounding annoyed. "I just couldn't explain it."
"What did you make of it?" He casually asked.
"I made myself think it was a prank by the other kids," she continued. "But then, another thing happened." She picked up a narrative persona. "I must have been six. I had a favourite...teddy- a plush toy," she quickly amended. Severus brought two fingers to his lips to hide his growing smirk. "But it had become very tatty and one day, my mother decided to throw it away when she cleaned the house.
"I was in school when she did. When I returned home and couldn't find it, I was desperate to have it back. And then it happened... I was having an argument with her in the middle of the living room and—we have glass windows, by the way—the teddy was just slapped onto the closed window, out of nowhere. Mum had dumped it in a garbage pit, at least ten kilometres away."
"A Summoning Charm," he said the obvious.
She nodded. "But it had been so horrifying, really. The toy just slapped on the window, sliding down the glass, what with that twisted grin that toys have..."
"You have an overactive imagination," he commented. The narration was almost comical and he found himself enjoying her entirely frivolous chatter.
"I literally never touched a toy for days after that," she shook her head. "But even that we could attribute to be some prank, until that incident with the tea set happened."
Severus had witnessed that exchange in one of their early Occlumency sessions, when Granger was still amateur at concealing her memories.
"That, we could not explain," she said more seriously. "After that, we just knew there was something in me that we might never completely understand. For a simple Muggle family, having a child with inexplicable abilities is distressing. It made me feel like an anomaly, even though my parents were very understanding when something odd happened around..."
She sighed and sat back, "Until finally, Professor McGonagall paid a visit and gave me my Hogwarts letter." She gave a slight smile in remembrance. "I knew who I truly was—a witch."
"That must have served as a relief for your family," Severus said.
"No, actually," she grimaced. "There was this whole argument between Mum and Professor McGonagall. She was called everything from a-" she lowered her voice, "Thug to a madwoman."
Severus was thoroughly enjoying that. He had much against Minerva now to torment her for weeks.
"Then Dad asked for proves," her voice returned to normal. "Professor showed him a simple levitation spell. That seemed to have satisfied Mum enough to consider the truth. But they still did not want me to come here..."
"Why not?" As little or as vividly Severus knew Granger's parents, they were not the kinds to hold their daughter back on any opportunity.
"Because Mum had never stayed in a boarding school herself, and Dad didn't exactly have the best of experiences, either," her fingers were idly fiddling on the spine of her book. "They didn't want me to stay so far away, in Scotland, when I was just Twelve."
"What made them reconsider?" He wondered how difference it might have been had Granger not come to Hogwarts. Potter would have died several times over in just his First year. The mystery of the Chamber of Secrets would still have been unsolved, Dolores Umbridge would still have ruled the school, Black would been subjected to the Dementor's Kiss. Well, that would have been for good. But he did understand exactly why Albus had permitted Granger to join the Order before finishing school.
Her mind could be an asset for the Order.
"Professor McGonagall introduced them to some families of Muggle-borns," she replied. "That seemed to have helped. They knew I would never fit in the Muggle world. They somewhat knew it since that first bout of Accidental Magic."
"Your bouts of Accidental Magic were harmless, though," he began, suddenly wanting to make a small contribution to the conversation, too. "In my first bout, I had set the sofa on fire."
"Really? How old were you?" She laughed.
"Four," he said with certainty. Although the aftermath had been less than pleasant when his Father had gotten to know that his son was as 'accursed' as his wife. But he would not voice that to the girl. He had already revealed to her more than he had to anyone.
"But why?" She asked. "What was the motivation?"
"Perhaps, I didn't quite like the colour of that sofa," he said in jest.
"Maybe it was not black," she gave a sly smile.
Trust Granger to involve in a banter with him. But he granted, "If my memory serves me correctly, it was red and gold."
She laughed. And he found himself hiding his quirking lips behind his fingers again. Severus could never solve the mystery that was Granger. As much as it irked him that she was not intimidated by him, it intrigued him to know why! How could she so boldly interact with him? Him!
But his trail of thoughts were disrupted as the infirmary door opened—to reveal nobody. Potter!
Granger gasped. She turned to look at him with wide eyes, clearly at a loss.
But the curtains drawn around the girl's bed would have kept them hidden. If he hurried up, they could escape the situation. Severus withdrew his wand and tapped it on his head.
He knew when his body disappeared into nothing more than a glowing silhouette, the Disillusionment Charm had taken effect. Granger looked relieved, too. Severus left the chair and stepped outside the curtains from the other side, that was not facing the door.
He would have left, but for two reasons. Thirty minutes had still not passed, and the idiot boy had closed the door after walking in. If Severus did go out, the sound from the door would indicate his leave. And if the boy was carrying his infernal Map, Severus would be caught without the aid of the door.
Albus would have to deal with a very recalcitrant boy and a thoroughly disgusted employee.
He could still see them from the open edge of the green curtains. The invisible figure entered through the slightly open curtain that Severus had left, drawing them further.
"Harry?" Granger asked, looking into clear air.
But when the Cloak was removed, it was not to reveal Potter, as they were expecting, but the Weasley boy.
Severus cursed in his mind about wayward teenagers! Could the little miscreants not visit their friend when it was actually permitted? Or did they just relish in breaking rules?
"Ron," Granger sounded annoyed. "What is it with you two venturing out after curfew? You could get caught."
The idiot boy grinned and sat on the stool. Severus could see his face clearly from where he stood. "Didn't get time to see you today. You know, Quidditch practice."
"You could have been caught," Granger repeated with more emphasis. "You didn't use Harry's Map?"
"It's lost," he shrugged.
"Lost?"
"Yeah, Harry said it's gone missing," the boy said. "Last time he used it was when McGonagall was looking for you, and Harry found you through the Map. After that, nobody's seen it."
"Oh, Harry must be really upset," she said softly. "It was his father's..."
"Yeah, maybe. He didn't talk much about it," Weasley was unimpressed.
"He never talks, Ron, does he?" She sighed. "Now that I think about it, he didn't have it yesterday when he visited."
"He visited yesterday? After curfew?" He looked genuinely shocked. At Granger's nod, he said, "I didn't know. Why didn't he tell me? I could have come, too."
"Harry said you were asleep," she told him.
"Yeah, he'd say that," the boy muttered.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Severus could see the girl's face but he had an idea that she was frowning by the tone of her voice.
"Nothing," he shrugged. "Wow, your hand looks really scarred."
Then, there was silence. If Severus thought his abominable social skills could not rival anyone's, he did not consider Weasley.
Severus watched as the boy's eyes travelled to the scarred side of Granger's face.
"My arm is also out of the sling," Granger countered, fidgeting under the gaze.
"Yeah, that's good," the boy said. "Anyway, so when are you coming back?"
"Monday," the girl was terse.
"Great!"
"But I have to stay here at night until...for some time," she said, clearly reluctant to speak.
"Blimey," Weasley grimaced. "Why? If you are well enough to attend classes, you are well enough to sleep in your dorm."
"I would need Karl- Madam Pomfrey's orders," she said, avoiding going into detail with the boy. Severus could sense she had already been peeved by the boy's comment on the scars her arm was bearing.
"She's a big pain in the-"
"Ron!"
"Sorry," the boy said sheepishly. "She can be, you know, too nagging."
"She is a Medi-witch, Ron, it is her job to look after the well-being of her patients," Granger countered.
"It's just that, Hermione...I really miss you," he said in a quieter voice.
Severus had had more than his share of teenage angst last night, listening to Potter's mundane nattering. He wanted to leave. If only the clock could tick faster and Weasley's ears lost hearing while Severus opened the door...
"I will be in the common room with you all." Annoyance left Granger's voice which took up a benignancy, instead. "I'll only leave right before curfew."
"That's fine, then, I can always borrow Harry's Cloak," Weasley perked up.
"No, you will not," Granger said firmly. "You can get into tr-"
"You'll be fine if Harry comes, though," the boy muttered bitterly.
Severus found himself growing extremely discomfited and exasperated. He had absolutely no desire to witness a private conversation—especially when he could not even deduct points and assign a detention to Weasley for irritating him.
"Ron, what's up with you today?" Granger huffed.
"No, what's up with you?" The boy frowned. "You don't look happy to see me. You look...I don't know, disappointed?"
"What?"
"You weren't expecting me, right?" Weasley said accusingly.
"Of course, I wasn't expecting anyone at this time," Granger said irritably. "But that doesn't mean I'm not happy to see you."
That seemed to have placated the moronic boy. "You're happy to see me, then?"
Granger sighed, a combination of annoyance and weariness. "Yes, Ron. What would I not be? I haven't seen you today at all."
Weasley grinned widely. "Sorry... I just...overreacted."
"Are you upset over something?" She asked calmly now.
"No, just...nothing, really," he shrugged. "It's about Ginny, I think."
"Harry and Ginny?"
"You know? Of course, you would know," he sounded like a petulant child. "I can't believe Harry would do that!"
"Do what? Express his feelings to a girl sharing the sentiments?" Severus imagined Granger's brow raised. "What's wrong in that?"
"She's my sister!" The boy exclaimed.
"And that should somehow restrict her from being with someone she wants to?" The question was rhetorical, but Weasley was daft enough to answer. "No."
"Then, what's the problem?"
"It's just...odd..." The boy could not reason.
"You don't even know what the problem is, Ron," she was being far too patient. "It's just something new, something you haven't considered before—although I don't know how, because anyone with eyes could see Ginny having a crush on Harry."
"She's my sister, Hermione!"
"And she has a right to choose for herself!" Granger was not only speaking in regards of the Weasley girl. The desperation came from where she knew that she did not have that right anymore.
"You're her brother, Ron," she continued more calmly. "You can look out for her, not dictate her life. Nobody can do that."
Another spell of silence fell. Severus genuinely considered stunning the boy and leaving. But that would pose question when the boy woke up.
"I think, you're right..." Weasley conceded. "I'm just being a royal prat..."
Granger snickered. "No surprise there."
Weasley gaze traveled to her face again, lingering on the scarred side, before dropping. "Good thing you're okay."
"Or who else could get your head straight?!" She joked. Watching Weasley's sullen face, she said, "Don't worry, Ron. I'm fine."
"It's just..." He looked up, studying her face. "It's a bit disturbing to see you like this, you know..."
Quite a rustic way to express one's concerns, Severus thought in derision.
"I'll recover soon," Granger said quietly. "I'll not be this way forever...something I'm really grateful for."
"Yeah, but...what about these?" He gestured to her face.
"What about them?"
"I mean, I know the salve will help them fade away, but how long will it take?" He was staring at her unblinkingly.
Granger didn't speak, but held the boy's gaze.
"I mean, it's good that it's not permanent..." The boy trailed off.
"And what if they are?" Her voice was cold. "What if I tell you that my face will remain like this forever?"
"But it won't," the boy said lamely. "It won't, right?"
Granger snapped, "Why? Would that be a problem with you?"
"No, but... You were beautiful, Hermione-"
"Were?" She spat. "Your bleak definition of beauty starts and finishes here-" she pointed to her face, "-that's it?"
"No, that's not what I mean," the boy held up his hands defensively.
"Then explain what you mean?" She folded her arms.
"I mean... You know, you can put Glamours or something if it's permanent. You don't have to be so angry at me for pointing it out," Weasley could not have proved himself to be more birdbrained.
"Glamours!" She drew a sharp breath. "Out of every utterly stupid thing you've said, Ronald... You know what, even if these scars are permanent, I don't care! At this point, I'm just glad to be alive at all, legs or no legs, scars or no scars!"
That took Severus by happy surprise. He quietly hoped that the girl believed what she said, truly.
"I am, too," Weasley amended. "I just mean that...it's better that your face will be back to normal..."
"That was not what you-" She sighed. "Ron, just go."
"What?"
"Just go, Ron," she huffed. "I'm really done with you right now. Before I say something that I should not, just leave."
"You're asking me to leave?" The idiot boy was gapping at Granger. "I really wanted to see you, Hermione."
"And you have," she said icily. "Seen and judged, both."
"Look, Hermione, I don't know why you're being so upset," Weasley shrugged, "It was not that big a deal."
"Who do you think gave you the right to comment on my physical appearance, Ronald?" The girl was fuming. "Did I ever comment on yours?"
"I have nothing for you to comment upon," Weasley frowned. "I just said that because you really have bad scarring. It doesn't look-"
"Ronald!" She spat. "Leave."
"Yeah, you'd have been happier had Harry been here, instead," he ground out.
Granger gasped. "Is that all you've gathered from this?" She ran a hand through her wild curls. "I can't deal with you anymore. Leave."
The boy didn't speak. But when he shrugged the Cloak, it was with more force than strictly required. He covered himself with Potter's Cloak.
After that, Severus could only follow the soft rustling of the material as the boy walked to understand where he was heading. When the door opened and was slammed closed, it was evident that he was gone.
Granger was breathing heavily, she nestled back into the cushioned headboard. Severus doubted she was aware of his presence anymore. She had practised no discretion while conversing with the boy. Granger might have thought that he left when the boy had come.
She would be thoroughly fazed on knowing that her altercation with the boy was witnessed by Severus.
She traced her fingers gently on the scars on her face. "Idiot." She muttered but not sounding as bitter as he was expecting her to. She sounded more disappointed than disgusted.
"Karly!" She called. The house-elf appeared. "Yes, Miss?"
"Can you help me lay down, please?"
Severus averted his eyes from the sight. He had no place there. He was invading the girl's privacy. But if he left in front of her, she would know that he had watched the conversation unfold.
So what? The girl was mistaken if she thought that he would leave, not even considering that thirty minutes were not over when the boy had intruded.
Why was Severus feeling awkward? He would just walk out and leave—gracefully! Not hide in a corner like a cowardly bastard!
But somehow, he did not wish to disconcert the girl—more than she always was, courtesy to the daft red-head.
He would leave after the girl was asleep, he decided begrudgingly. He told himself that it was not healthy to leave a suicidal, temperamental witch after an altercation of that nature. He would better keep an eye wary, just in case.
When he was certain the elf had provided her assistance to Granger, he looked back.
She had drawn the duvet to her face, leaving only the top of her head in sight, not to mention her wild hair smeared haphazardly over the pillow.
When he looked closely, he could sense the outline of her shoulders shaking. She was...crying...
Damn Weasley! The boy had no way with words or etiquettes.
That was the last thing the girl needed. Another reason to... But didn't she say that she was grateful to be alive at all? Was that only for the boy to hear? No, it did sound genuine.
As a sob escaped the girl, she quickly coughed to cover it from the sharp ear of the house-elf. So vigilant even in vulnerability—leave that to Granger.
Severus could do nothing but stand and watch. Even if he could reveal himself, he had no idea of how to soothe somebody in their state of emotional distress.
So, he just remained there, watching as her shoulders continued to shake. Once in a while, a sob escaped her lips which was hastily covered. He remained by her side, not visible though, until her shoulders finally stopped shaking.
After a while, Severus observed her breaths coming in evenly, making the duvet covering her, rising and falling rhythmically. It was almost hypnotic.
He remained there for longer, if only to make certain that she was indeed asleep.
Severus reminded himself to better leave before the girl woke up.
The house-elf, Severus knew, wouldn't breathe a word to the girl even if she saw him. So he lifted the Disillusionment Charm from himself and regarded the elf. "Stay with Granger," he said sternly. "Do inform me if anything seems...amiss."
The diminutive house-elf bobbled her head in affirmative.
Severus re-cast the Charm over himself. In that state of invisibility, he walked through the Hospital Wing, to the door, and left, in a blur of glow. Feeling disconcerted himself.
UUUUUUU
Next day, after lunch, Hagrid came for a brief visit while Ginny were still sitting with Hermione. Ron and Harry could not come due to Quidditch practices. But Ginny got a chance to, having 'pacified' Harry, as the red-head girl had said.
Ron would not come, anyway, she knew. In all honesty, she had no desire to see him today. After what he had implied yesterday... She was still furious with him!
Hagrid talked all about the new animals he had acquired and told Hermione about how the pumpkin patch was coming up for Halloween. When Hagrid actually cried talking to Hermione, she did not how to soothe the man. He had been such a supportive friend to the three of them since they had first arrived at Hogwarts.
After Hagrid and Ginny left, Hermione laid herself down on the bed with Karly's help. As she could not exactly curl up, she covered herself with her duvet to her head, like she had last night.
After waking up from her coma, it was the first time she was feeling so lonely and guilty again. The idea that she could still feel like that for no apparent reason was more frightening. It was not the first time she had had an altercation with Ron. Hermione knew he meant well, just that his words didn't always support his intent. It was not Ron she was upset about, at least not primarily.
Hermione knew she did not have a future with him, especially not now... Yet, some part of her felt a small tinge for him. And to think that he, of all people, could be so openly nasty about her appearance... But her rumination did not halt at Ron. They were well beyond him.
She had thought that she was getting better after all that had happened. But once again, she found herself crying softly for no plausible reason, more or less.
People had been so considerate towards her. Her friends had constantly come to see her—even Ron had tried to be considerate when he was being a 'royal prat' as he had called himself. Yet, she couldn't help feeling so low.
What's wrong with me?
She closed her eyes and recalled the conversation with her parents. She reminded herself their smiling faces and warm hugs.
Am I never going to get better?
Hermione clamped a hand over her mouth not to let Karly hear her sobs.
'We want you to live, Love.'
I will, Mum. I will.
Was she sick? Really, really ill to be feeling that way right after having a perfectly affable conversations with her friends? She was frightened. What if that overwhelming urge to end her life returned? Hermione could not practise sensibility last time it had happened. What if she again found herself in the throes of another such meltdown?
No, she was overthinking.
She focused on taking deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out.
She worked on erecting her Occlumency Shields up. The water would conceal the more dangerous thoughts from pervading her mind. Until she could think straight again, the impenetrable waters will serve as a protection.
She could do it, yes. She would conceal everything. If not for herself , then for those who cared for her.
UUUUUUU
That evening, the night sky outside was swirling with dark clouds that were playing the veil between the full moon and that part of Scotland. Severus found himself sitting by a very quiet Hermione Granger. The girl was usually her somewhat chirpy self when he came to see her. Not extremely garrulous but not worryingly taciturn, either.
But currently, she was quiet and drawn. Her hands kept fiddling with the duvet. She didn't meet his eyes while he sat beside her. While the silence might have been awkward for him, she was deeply caught in her stupor.
Was she upset over that asinine Weasley boy? Or was it a general consequence of her depression?
When Severus had stepped inside the curtains a quiet 'Good Evening' was all he received before a quick completion of the casting of Cleaning Charms. He found himself quite used to Granger's nattering. Severus knew the girl would be unforthcoming about her predicaments, if asked. Moreover, he was himself at a loss as to how to begin a conversation, the girl always took the lead.
He looked around to see if there were any new book in sight which they could discuss, a preferable subject for both. But only a Charms textbook was lying in Granger's lap. He then spotted another tome on the bedside cabinet. It was kept face-down. Judging by the heftiness and Muggle covering, he assumed it to be another fiction.
Severus picked the book up, Macbeth. Not new by any means. Didn't the girl say that it was her most cherished works by Shakespeare? Fair is foul, and foul is fair. How befitting.
A folded parchment that was tucked beneath the book slipped to the floor in a slow, graceful motion, unfolding itself as it landed. Severus bent to pick it up.
His eyes caught monetary figures listed before various items. He glanced at Granger, she was not paying attention to him. Curious, Severus read further. As his eyes skimmed over the words and numbers, he found himself inexplicably discomfited and irked.
"Miss Granger?" He demanded her attention. She turned to face him, her face closed. The natural eloquence of her features constricted behind the strongly erected Occlumency Shields. Her eyes almost opaque, giving Severus impression of his own after Occluding for a prolonged stretch.
An unhealthy approach.
But he decided to address the parchment first. "What might this be?" He gave a casual wave to the parchment in his hand.
"It's the bill..." She said monotonously. "The payment that I have to make for Healer Waters' services, the Charmed-Chair that I'm going to use and the potions...that you are making for me, Sir."
"Who gave you this?" He kept his voice levelled.
Granger looked at him in puzzlement. "I asked Madam Pomfrey. She consulted with Professor Dumbledore..."
"Have you made the payment?" He inquired, glancing at the total sum to be paid.
"Not yet," she said, flexing the fingers of her right hand. "I have to write to Gringotts, but I'm not allowed yet...to write...to use a quill, I mean. I'll send an owl tomorrow."
"Forgive my prying," he said formally, "But can your account handle the amount? As in my knowledge, you are yet to claim your Muggle inheritance."
If Granger felt abashed, her Shields did not let it show. "Yes, Sir. A fixed allowance was earlier transferred from my parents' Muggle account to my Gringotts vault, every month. But I've hardly spent much over the years... I'll pay from
that. I'll sort my Muggle...my inheritance sometime during Christmas, maybe."
That, she would have to. The Muggle authorities were made to believe in a convenient cover story that Doctors Granger had left the country. Until the girl was ready to made their demise a public knowledge and claim her inheritance, the story would work, albeit with some well-placed Obliviates.
"Miss Granger," he said, "You are not required to spend your savings on this." He gestured to the parchment. "I believe," he paused to look for suitable words to convey what he was intending to, "That I have a significant part to play in your predicament. I would like to settle this."
Granger frowned. "Sorry? I didn't get you, Sir. You will...pay for me?"
Severus understood that if Granger had landed herself where she had, if she was fighting suicidal tendencies and depression, Severus was as much at fault. He had a duty towards her, however was the nature. After casting the Avada on her caregivers, he found himself obliged to look after her basic needs, especially financial. He would not attribute it to their living situation or the bond that implied their roles to be of...husband and wife, but his sense of duty was a plausible reason.
"Miss Granger, I do have a role to play in the decision that you made, regarding your life, however reckless that was," he said pointedly. "I am under equal burden of mistake. In that regard, it is my duty to-"
"No," she said bluntly. "You have no duty towards me, Sir."
"Miss Granger-"
"I'm sorry for my tone but you are not obliged to pay for me, or do anything else for me—anything more than you already have," she elaborated seriously. "Especially if it's because of the...bond, it was not your choice or your fault."
"However much we deny it," he started but the girl shook her head.
"Sir," she said with the same hint of confidence that Severus had come to associate with her during the summer, minus the defiance and anger, "I am perfectly capable of providing for myself. My parents have, by God's grace, left enough saving for me, my further education, everything. I am fairly certain that nobody will have to bear my burden, ever. I have already started preparing for a career in Healing, as you know."
"It was not my intention to offend you," he clarified.
"No, Sir, I'm not offended," she said honestly. "What I'm saying is that you have already done enough for me. I've put you through more than I can ever repay for. Not only what you did on that night...even now, making all these potions for me-" She gestured towards the vials kept atop the cabinet, "-coming here everyday because I cannot and teaching me Occlumency... You have done more than enough, Sir. But not my finances, those I can handle."
"I would have brewed these potions for any student, Miss Granger," he responded. "Coming here and teaching you Occlumency are the consequences of my persuasion to the Dark Lord in this direction."
"That persuasion saved my life," Granger added.
"And compelled you to take such a step." It came out more searingly than intended.
"That was my impulsiveness," she said without hesitation. "Professor, my situation is not your fault. And, I'm not your responsibility. I know I've earlier implied that your were the perpetrator and considered myself a...victim, now I know how wrong I had been."
"Don't be daft, Miss Granger!" He reproved. "Had it not been for my rather temerarious pronouncements and suggestions to the Dark Lord-"
"I would have been killed that night, alongside my parents," she finished.
"You would have been free!" He pressed. "You are bound to me, for life, without a fault of yours!"
"Neither was it yours," she countered boldly.
Silence fell. The splattering of rain could be heard falling of the panes of the Infirmary window. The draperies waved in the light gushes of the cold breeze that escaped through a slightly opened window.
Granger's pardoning nature was rankling him. The girl was too dewy-eyed and credulous for her own good. All it took for her rage towards him to die were Severus' memories? That did not change the glaring reality that he had killed her parents and somewhat instigated the Dark Lord to bound her to him.
"In fact, Sir," she was the one to break the silence, "Don't you find me at fault for your increased burden of duty, preparing me to go before Vold- him? One slip of my Shields, one wrong word I mutter, and your position as a spy will come to risk."
"You will be ready soon," she responded. "Besides, a spy is forever at risk of being revealed. Every meeting that I attend, I have an equal chance of not returning with my cover or life intact."
A brief flash of what could be called as alarm and agitation flickered over her closed face. "Then, I only increase those chances. But I promise you, Sir, I will work very hard to remain in my character when I go before him."
"Of that, I bear no doubt in mind. You have had a taste of the upcoming war since your First year, have you not?" He said rhetorically.
"Some of us, from ten years before that," she gave an allusion to Potter. "I have always understood the gravity of the situation. Now, it has hit me too close to home. I was always involved, now I will strive to aid the Order in whatever way I can."
She opened her palm, looking expectantly at the parchment in Severus' hand. "Please, Sir."
"Then consider it a request, Miss Granger." Severus Transfigured a Muggle pen from a lone piece of paper and slashed the payment amount that was scribbled in front of the potions he was brewing for her, and made the necessary changes to the final amount.
"Professor-"
He gave the bill back to her. "I will not accept payment from you. I will not interfere with the rest."
"I need to start looking after myself," she said, disappointed at his actions, "And begin to accept that this is how it will be...forever."
The words under the steely garb of truth stung to hear. But they did not fail to show a willingness in Granger—to live. Acceptance was the first step towards recovery, after all.
"Concealment does not aid acceptance, Miss Granger." Severus could see she understood his allusion to her erected Shields. She averted her eyes away from his. "That approach has never benefitted me, at least."
She did not respond. Granger took her time to fold the parchment back and tucked it under the tome on her bedside cabinet, where it was, earlier.
"Drop it," Severus demanded, indicating to her Shields. "If you can," he added hastily to prevent the bond from acknowledging it as a command.
Granger blinked at him before looking away. "That's how I'll cope, Sir."
"By bottling up?" He raised a brow.
"If they're hidden, I won't get...impulsive again, at least," she said in a distant voice.
"Then try to think beyond the impulse," he reasoned.
"I can't," she said in the same voice. "I don't know what triggers it anymore... It just...happens..."
"What happens?" He leaned forward, eyeing her carefully.
"I... It's just..." She seemed to be stuck in the travails of what and how to explain something that probably even she could not come to understand. Then, she turned to look at him, considering whether to voice her mind in front of him or not. "Sometimes, I just feel...hopeless. Suddenly. One moment, it's all fine...and then...the next moment, that feeling comes back. I don't even know how, why..."
The signs were clear. Granger needed to be aware of her plight. "What you are going through, Miss Granger, can be situational depression."
Her head shot up and she furrowed her brow. Severus had no doubt that she was familiar with the concept. "I am not a certified Mind-Healer, but your symptoms are a telltale. After what you have suffered in the last few months, it does not come as a shock—to me."
"So... What am I supposed to do now?" She asked, her Shields still providing a false plainness to her features.
"I can arrange for you to see a Mind-Healer," he suggested. "Mind-Healers are under an Oath of Secrecy in regards to their patient's case history."
"No," she shook her head. "I don't think I can talk to a stranger about any of this."
Severus nodded in understanding. He, himself, was never too fond of seeking a Mind-Healer, as well, after returning from Azkaban. "I can brew you an Anti-depressant, but I do not condone its consumption. It does more harm than help."
Silence fell again. Severus mentally went through the other options Granger had. She might be encouraged to confide in her Head of House, or any other Professor she favoured, considering all of them did favour her greatly. Albus could explain them the situation under sworn secrecy. Poppy could be an option, too. He was fairly certain it was not a case of clinical depression. In comparison, situational depression can subside as the causes come under control.
"I thought...I'm fine now," she whispered.
Severus watched her looking unblinkingly at her duvet.
"After this...all this, I thought I won't feel like that again," she continued. "I understand what I did was...reckless and foolish—extremely foolish. I'm really grateful to be alive. But... I just can't seem to...stop myself from feeling that way..."
"Depression takes time to be cured," he said. "If you do understand the value of life, it is a step towards progress. But after the ordeal you have faced, it will take efforts from your side to combat it."
"How?"
"If you feel comfortable in confiding in someone, the chosen person can be made cognizant of your current plight," he offered.
"No," she refused. "I can't."
Severus entwined his fingers together, resting his elbows on his knees, in a pensive state. "Would you prefer writing to talking then?"
"Writing?"
"Yes, the intention is to vent, by whichever means that suits you," he said. "Some people like to draw or paint. It is said to be cathartic." Severus, himself, played his piano in a way to let out, but that secret was known to nobody.
"I've never done it," she said. "I can try."
"Very well." He suggested Granger to write due to her taste in literary works and intellect. "One other advice, Miss Granger, Occlumency is a useful device, but for fighting the enemy outside, not within." He paused deliberately to make her look at him. When she did, he said, "Occlumency will only work to deteriorate your condition further."
"And... What if...my impulses overpower me?" She asked with genuine concern.
Severus was taken aback for a moment. What could he say to that? He knew how sudden impulses could work to change the course of one's decision-making abilities.
"If that happens again," he said, mindful not to make it a command, "You can tell yourself to stop—take a break, breathe, and tell yourself what lays beyond those impulses, if you manage to combat that sudden bout. Perhaps count to ten, divert your mind."
She nodded slowly.
Outside, the rain had taken the form of a thunderstorm. The window panes were rattling lightly and rather rhythmically with wind, and the Hospital Wing was cool with the soft breeze. But the night sky that was indicating to a lugubrious, moon-less glum, was now somehow providing a soothing charm, despite the storm—in its release.
Severus watched how gradually Granger's features took up their eloquent demeanour again, as she let the Shields collapse. She looked at him with uncertainty. Severus nodded in approval and what he assumed to be encouragement.
Perhaps, that was a step towards recovery—he hoped so, fervently.
UUUUUUU
The next morning, Hermione woke up earlier than she usually did, even Madam Pomfrey was not around. The Medi-witch was probably the earliest riser among the residen of Hogwarts. Still groggy from her sleep, the witch did not bother to ask Karly to help her sit up.
One look outside the window showed the cheery morning sky. All signs of the storm had vanished, leaving a fresh, washed sun shining above. The open draperies were letting the sunlight in, though the curtains around Hermione's bed were still drawn.
Her conversation with Professor Snape still played in her mind. She was somewhat surprised at the willingness with which she had made him privy to her secrets—secrets which she hadn't even told her friends about, not even Harry and Ron. But it felt like he would understand. After he had told her about a significant part of his rather bleak childhood, she knew he would get what she was going through, without her putting in many words.
In all honesty, she had never pictured the Potions Master to be a good listener, considering the shortness of his temper. But last night, he had listened and advised, both.
After all, he did understand it was...depression. Hermione had suspected the possibility but never gave it a second thought. But he read the signs. Something told her that he, too, had a close relation to that very situation.
When she turned to head, she found a leather-bound book on her bedside cabinet, kept on top of her copy of Macbeth that she was reading the day before. Stretching her hand up, she picked the book up. The cover was plain, brown leather. No carvings or initials were jotted anywhere. On close examination, she recognised it to be a diary. The pages were smooth, plain, unlined, parchment-like.
She opened the very first page and a small smile in awe graced her face up.
On the first page, on the right, above corner, a small symbol of Inguz was scrawled in a familiar spidery handwriting that often wrote 'The assignment did not consist of quoting the entire textbook down' with red ink on her essays.
She traced her finger on the symbol lightly, "Where there is a will, there is a way."
Hermione was touched by his solicitude. The man was such a mystery to her—between his callous disregard to people and his sudden deeds of such kindness, she did not know how to recognise who the true Severus Snape was. Perhaps, she could never truly decipher the man from his enigmatic persona.
Yet, she could feel a warmth seeping into her heart, a comfortable sensation that let her know that she would combat it, she would combat her depression.
UUUUUUU
It was after another two hours that Hermione was up and about. After some requesting and promising not to overdo it, she got permission from Madam Pomfrey to use a quill.
Writing initially felt a bit awkward, resulting in a letter to Gringotts in a penmanship rivalling even that of Harry. But she practised on the letter before starting on the diary—her diary. The Potions Master had amended the amount to be paid after striking what she was to pay for the potions. Hermione sighed but complied, not meaning to disrespect his explicit wishes.
When Hermione's quill touched the fresh, unmarked parchment of her diary, her hand began working of its own accord, and words flourished with a flair.
When I think of my most cherished memories, I find that most of them were set against the backdrop of the familiar voices, warm embraces and broad smiles of my Mum and Dad. I have never been too social in my days as a Muggle. I never had friends. Maybe that's why I was so close to my parents. They were all I had until I came to Hogwarts... My childhood, even without wands, was so magical... So loving that now it hurts my heart to think I can never go back to that comfort.
But today, I want to jot down my last conversations with my beloved parents, so that whenever I miss them I have a vivid account to remind myself how very loved I've been—considering I will only meet them again when I'm 'Somebody's Great-Great-Great-Grandma', in the words of my father...
A/N: Okay, sorry for the Ron-bashing. I DON'T hate Ron. But I do think he can sometimes speak out of turn. We all remember what happened in GoF, right? Don't worry, Ron-Lovers, I don't write OOC. Thus, I won't make Ron the devil here. He's a very important part of the story and I love him!
Anyway, what do you think about their budding *cough* relationship? Am I going too fast? Please let me know if it seems natural or not... I really am trying to make it all as realistic as possible. Hoping to hear from you! :)