Chapter Four
"Ms Granger. What are you doing for work now? If you are not undertaking a potions apprenticeship, I would find myself asking why. you clearly have an interest and an aptitude for the art." She heard the professor ask her… and a lump formed in her throat.
"Oh. well." she paused. Hermione wasn't ashamed of her choice of work but with the compliment he had just paid to her, coupled with the immense respect she had always harboured for this particular teacher's opinion, she knew that her next answer would invoke a displeasing response.
"Currently I am clerking at the British Royal Library." She mumbled, looking down into her lap.
"The magical literature available is really quite breathtaking." She continued in a rush, her nervous chatter filling the silence as he simply stared ahead at the band without responding.
"For instance, just yesterday I discovered an old tome on elemental magic that had some concepts I'd not heard of before.." her voice trailed off.
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Severus could barely believe what he was hearing come out of the witch's mouth. Clerking at a library? He had always known of her love of books, given her proclivity for reciting answers verbatim from textbooks… but to simply waste her innate magical abilities by sequestering herself away in a fucking library?
"Ms Granger. Brightest witch of her age… working in a fucking library." He scoffed, his words dripping in ridicule. As he spoke, he saw her shoulders tense and her hands ball into fists.
"We're going to need more drinks before this conversation continues." he remarked, and gave the young gryffindor some space as he went to fetch more drinks. Something was clearly wrong with the girl, but the question remained - did he care enough to ask? He contemplated that thought whilst waiting for the drinks to be poured, and upon returning to the table realised that she was trying to wipe a tear from her eye inconspicuously. Merlin save me..
He placed the drinks back onto the table, passing her fresh wine to her and ignoring the behaviour he had just witnessed. Even as a teacher he had no ability to deal with crying females, so he took his seat again and remained awkwardly silent for a moment until he was sure she had collected herself.
"Ms Granger, what exactly are you hiding from?" He asked eventually, keeping his tone even and as un-accusatory as he could.
"What do you mean?" She almost whispered, her voice quivering.
"What do I mean? Come now Ms Granger. A witch as intelligent as yourself, with the fame and glory attached to your name, could be doing anything she wanted in the magical world. And yet i find you here, in a muggle bar drinking by yourself, and you tell me you spend your days shelving books in a fucking library? She who in only her fourth year in the magical world, campaigned for the freedom of bloody house elves… who scored the highest N.E.W.T.S scores on record since myself, without even attending her seventh year of school… what other explanation could there be, except you are hiding from something." He finished. staring at her intently.
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Hermione tried desperately not to shrink back in her seat as the Professor's eyes bore into her own. Every word of what he had said was the horrible truth. Only he was the first person to openly call her on it. She reached for her glass of wine, drawing a measure into her mouth in an attempt to steady herself… only she had lost count now of the amount she had drunk, and her mental resolve had weakened considerably.
She drew a breath before answering at an almost undetectable whisper. "The war.. affected us all differently sir." She scratched unconsciously at her left arm, which still bore the scar carved into her by Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Ah." Was his only response.
She looked up at him, expecting more but he only sipped on his whiskey and kept his eyes forward on the band. She relaxed back into her seat and for the next 10 minutes or so, they sat in companionable silence as they soaked in the music and contemplated their own thoughts.
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The silence was eventually broken when Severus decided he had given the girl enough time with her own thoughts.
"I would have thought that spending time with your friends would be more beneficial to your healing process than drinking alone in a bar.. but perhaps i have misjudged your character thus far Ms Granger." he remarked.
"People change." she muttered.
When it was obvious that he was not going to comment further, Hermione slowly began opening up to him, confessing how she had been unable to reverse the effects of her memory charm on her parents, how insensitive Ron was and that she had actually contemplated leaving the wizarding world all together. Part of her could not believe that of all people, Professor Snape was the one that she was opening up to, but most of her brain was clouded by the copious amounts of alcohol that she had not intended to consume tonight, and thus her tongue had loosened considerably.
He sat with one leg crossed over the other and his hands neatly folded in his lap as he listened, giving her an ear while she decompressed and making the odd remark or reaction when needed.
Of course that redheaded imbecile was insensitive. He barely had 2 brain cells that worked together and probably assumed that all she needed was a ring on her finger and a babe in her belly to make her happy. But anyone with more than 2 brain cells could see that this witch was destined for bigger things than being the next weasley brood-mare. He thought to himself when she mentioned the weasley brat she called a friend.
"I think I understand now why you aren't particularly looking forward to the annual Weasley Christmas festival Ms Granger…. but I'll let you in on a secret." he declared, pausing for dramatic effect. It seemed that the liquor consumption was finally affecting his disposition as well..
"Neither am I." He deadpanned.
He studied her face for a reaction, and she cracked a smile.
"I don't think that's much of a secret Sir." she responded, chuckling into her wine glass.
The mood lightened considerably after that, and they sat together enjoying the melody provided by the musicians whilst occasionally conversing about less weighty topics. This was certainly not the evening that Severus had planned for himself, but it was turning out to be more enjoyable than expected. He enjoyed intellectual conversation, and the fact that she appreciated the same kind of music was an added bonus to the evening.