"Do you think you'll tell her?" Remus asked.
Severus clenched his jaw thinking about it. It had been only a couple weeks since he started seeing Remus. It was all still so new. Certainly, Severus liked him, but it wasn't like he was planning on buying a cottage in the south of France to retire with the man.
This was all just…he didn't quite know yet. He wished he could say it was just a fling, but the way he felt when Remus said he was leaving seemed to suggest otherwise.
"I don't know, Remus," he sighed, lifting his head off the other man's chest and standing. "I think she has enough to process without her father having a—I'm not even sure what to call this."
"Oh," Remus averted his gaze, crestfallen.
Why do you have to do that? Severus sighed and sat back down beside him. Equally annoyed and guilty. There were exactly two people on this planet he gave a damn about and they both excelled at making him feel like a monster.
"It's not that," Severus explained. "I assure Hermione is the last person to condemn us for the mere act of seeing each other. Nor am I ashamed. But the girl's fragile. I can't just bring an adult into her life for him to vanish in the fall. She'd be devastated."
"You think I'm just going to sod off?!"
Now it was Remus who leapt to his feet, and he didn't avoid eye contact. A flame formed in his pale green eyes and he spoke through gritted teeth.
"Damn it, Severus. You were the one that convinced me to stay for the summer, I thought you wanted–" he shook his head. "This is new to me too. For God's sake, you were my first—I'm not saying we run head first into the first chapel that'll have us. But I expected to be more than a bloody summer fling. You wanted me to stay."
"I did," he nodded stiffly. "But wanting to tell my child after a couple of weeks is simply ridiculous. You have to see that."
Remus sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Severus thought he was going to give up for a moment before he walked up to him, inches from his face, anger palpable. "Tell her, don't tell her. I don't care, Severus. But I refuse to be your dirty little secret."
"And how, praytell, do you purpose we pursue this openly without her knowing?" he said. "This isn't charted territory for me either. Believe it or not, I wasn't given a manual when I became a father, and I certainly wasn't instructed on how to bring another person into our lives."
"Figure out what you want, Severus," Remus made for the door.
"These are your quarters," Severus reminded him. "I'll leave."
"Right," Remus sighed, his dramatic exit ruined. "You leave."
"I was just about too," he pinched the bridge of his nose. This wasn't the note I wanted to leave on either.
Dear Mi-chan,
I can't wait to see you again. I'm counting the days! Kaori thinks I've lost my mind, but it's not as if she and Anya are a couple of conveniences either. And she's excited to see her girlfriend, so why can't I be?
Classes are getting a bit harder now, but I'm still managing my work. Miyuki has started helping me with Yokai Studies. I normally excel, but now that we're into malicious spirits, I'm having a lot of difficulty. Though I'm sure you'd handle it well.
I keep thinking of that night in the forest, it was perfect. You were so pretty, and that kiss, it might have just been the best moment in my life. I'm glad it was yours too! I wish you were here now. I miss you.
Have you talked to your father yet about staying with us during August? We'll be going to the World Cup, so he won't have to worry about collecting you. And we can probably angle it to be educational? Obon festival might be something you can talk about.
I have homework to get to. See you in seven days!
Love,
Hiro
Hermione lost count of how many times she'd re-read the letter that arrived the day before. Hiro was as excited to see her as she was to see him. She clutched the letter to her chest and could hardly erase the stupidest grin from her face.
She didn't want to either. So much anxiety had been relieved by this one letter. Alright, it'd been relieved with every letter she'd been sent. Hermione was so scared that he'd see her and find she wasn't as pretty as he remembered, or cool enough or—she worried between every letter that she just wasn't enough.
But each letter told her she was. Hiro loved her. And she loved him so wholly that other stupid little crushes didn't matter. She saw herself with him for the rest of her days and hated the distance between them.
Hermione affectionately fondled the red cord around her wrist and she thought about the myth of the two lovers he'd told her about. The lovers fashioned a braided cord from the strands of the invisible red string of fate so that they could stretch between them, connect them no matter where they were.
She felt her heart pounding in her chest. Six days. She'd be with him again in six days. Was every first love so exhilarating?
Six days to ask Dad if I could stay with him…Damn it.
"Are you still awake?" her father's voice came from the doorway. "Hermione, it's two in the morning."
Hermione turned to see her father, leaning against the wall, his long black hair hanging in his exhausted face, his arms folded over his chest.
"Just trying to adjust to the new timezone before I get there," she lied. "You're home awfully late. Is everything okay?"
"Well," he tapped his chin in fake pensiveness. "My only child seems content to live in a state of sleep deprivation. But I suppose I'm otherwise fine."
Fine, don't answer my question.
"What's this you have?" He strode into the room and sat next to her without asking permission.
"Just a letter!" Hermione snapped the letter to her chest again and felt her cheeks grow warmer.
"From the Yamato boy I presume?" he raised an eyebrow.
Hermione couldn't stop herself from squeaking stupidly as she nodded.
"I see," he pinched the bridge of his nose before rising. "Get some sleep. I have much I'd like to talk to you about in the morning."
"Are you sure everything's okay, Dad?" Hermione said, placing the letter back in her box. "I'm here if you need to talk now—"
He sighed and placed a hand on her head. "No, love. I definitely need sleep and so do you. Good night."
"Are you–"
"Good night, Hermione," he insisted, rising but keeping his hand on her head.
"Good night, Dad."
"Morning, love," Severus greeted his tiny bushy haired daughter over the paper.
"I can't believe I slept so late," Hermione rubbed sleep from her eyes before stifling a yawn.
"I suppose anything later than the crack of dawn is late for you," he conceded, placing a hand on her head. "Perhaps two am is too late for a thirteen-year-old to be up and about?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, pouring herself a mug of coffee before sitting opposite him. "You wanted to talk?"
Is she really already thirteen? Dating? She's so– Even mentally he wasn't able to come up with the words. Hermione looked up at him, those large, brown almond shaped eyes fringed with impossibly long lashes dominated her face the way they did when he first held her. The small doll-like girl under that mass of bushy brown hair couldn't already be dating, or about to spend a whole month away from him with her boyfriend–boyfriend! What did he know about the Yamato boy? Nothing, nothing substantial anyway. Was he good enough for her?
If I say she's too ill, she won't have to go, he mused. But she wants to go…
"I expect at this rate you know how to conduct yourself overseas?" he asked.
Hermione nodded. "Yes, sir."
Severus mulled over how the conversation was to go. He might have had the general talk with her when he found out about Hiro and Hermione dating, but now that she was going abroad, it was more difficult. He shouldn't have had to. She was a child.
Didn't I read somewhere to address it before it happens? How do I know if I'm there on time without it being too soon?
"I'm just going to say it," he breathed between his teeth. Fuck it, she's too young. I won't have to worry about that for at least what? Two, maybe three years? "How old is the Yamoto boy?"
Hermione blinked in confusion, tilting her head. "Fifteen, sir. Why?"
Fifteen! He slammed his coffee down harder than expected, spilling some on himself.
Severus didn't know why he was shocked, given the boy's year, depending on when his birthday fell, it was possible. But for Hermione to be with someone that age...He remembered exactly what it was like to be a boy that age. The thoughts, the—and Hermione was far too young to be with someone like that!
"Dad?" Hermione spoke in a small voice. "Are you alright?"
"Yes," he dabbed at the spilled coffee . "You are to go nowhere with this boy unaccompanied, am I understood?"
"Yes, sir," Hermione nodded, eyes narrowing in focus as if trying to discern his thoughts.
"Good," he sighed. "Now, the headmaster expressed interest in seeing you this afternoon, but until then it seems I have you to myself. What would you like to do?"
Since school let out in early June the two, under the advice of counsellor Amir, had been trying a variety of bonding activities. They often simply gravitated toward things that needed to be done, neither of them sure what to do with leisure time, but Severus wanted to try and coax more memorable activities out of Hermione…with little success thus far.
"Erm," Hermione averted her gaze, playing with the trinket on her wrist. "I actually did h-have s-something I w-wanted to ask you."
"Oh?" He brushed a lock of hair out of her face.
"Well," she clasped her hands together.
I'm not going to like this…Remember, be patient with her…
"Hiro," she squirmed in her chair and averted her gaze once more. "H-he–erm–I w-was won-wondering–erm—" She squeezed her eyes shut and drove her nails deep into her hands again. "Hiro asked me to stay with him this August!"
"He what?!" Severus snapped despite himself.
"Erm—he–erm–and—I th–he–Hiro–erm–" Hermione stammered. "Y-you see–erm–Ob-Obon is—erm–a really important time in–erm–Japanese Culture during August and–erm–-he wanted to ta-take me to a local festival."
"No," he said simply. "I don't know anything about this boy."
Hermione pressed her nails even deeper into her flesh and ventured eye contact. It seemed she wasn't giving up.
How I wish you were still little…
"You've seen him when you've come to collect me, though," she offered. "And Yamato-samma Sensei is taking him and Kaori to the World Cup. You can meet us after and ask him anything you want."
"Hermione Elizabeth," Severus folded his arms over his chest and stared at her. "I am not sending my thirteen-year-old daughter to stay with her older boyfriend alone in a foreign country."
"His mum would be there," Hermione insisted. "And I'm almost fourteen!"
Severus rolled his eyes at this. "Oh, you're almost fourteen, well, you're practically a little grown-up then, aren't you? The answer is 'no', Hermione. Do not make me repeat myself."
Finally, she gave up, averting her gaze. "Yes, sir."
The girl shrank before him, making herself as small as she could, staring at her bare feet and vanishing behind her bushy locks. As if the wind had been taken out of her.
Why must you look so… Severus sighed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You'll see in time this is for the best."
"Yes, sir," she said in a small voice.
What am I to do with you?
Hermione and her father spent the morning in an uneasy silence. While they prepped the still rooms he opened his mouth as if to speak a few times, shook his head and then sighed. Lunch had been equally exhausting. He spoke then, but it was mostly urging her to "for the love of Merlin, eat something".
She was thankful when the two of them got to leave each other alone. Now Hermione walked to Dumbledore's office with Crookshanks trailing at her heels.
"I know, Crookshanks," she said, picking him up. "I don't know what his problem is either. I just—but it doesn't matter does it?"
Crookshanks nuzzled into her chest and began kneading her arms. Hermione scratched behind his ears and the giant ginger cat began to pur.
A sudden yowl echoed as Hermione's barefoot grazed a skeletal grey cat with lamp yellow eyes glaring at her.
"Sorry, Mrs Norris," Hermione padded around her.
Her long tail rose in the air with her nose before casting another indignant glance Hermione's way.
"Yes, I'll watch where I'm going," she sighed. "I already apologised."
Mrs Norris let out a satisfied squeak and trotted along her way, perhaps to communicate Hermione's literal missteps to Filch. Hermione shook her head and continued along her way. She met Dumbledore just outside the stone gargoyle blocking the stairway to his office.
"Hello, Hermione," Dumbledore smiled with the characteristic twinkle in his blue eyes. "I see you've brought a companion."
"Oh, sorry, sir," she bowed her head. "I-erm–he kind of–erm–followed me." She set him down for him to wind around her bare feet once more. "Go play with Shadow and the kittens."
Crookshanks meowed before Hermione made a shooing motion which was obeyed with a protest.
Dumbledore smirked and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Shadow?"
Hermione bit her lip and looked away. "The Kellas cat. She–erm–she lives in hollows and shadows of trees, it just—felt right—I'm not sure how to explain it, sir. You wanted to see me?"
"Indeed, I did," he smiled before turning to the door. "Jelly Babies!"
While ascending to the office Dumbledore chuckled as he told her snippets of stories with no conclusions or asked her if she was looking forward to her stay in Japan.
"Such a solemn child," Dumbledore observed and offered a paper bag. "Jelly Baby?"
Hermione shook her head. "No thank you, sir."
"I so often tell Severus that it can't hurt to indulge oneself once in a while," Dumbledore sighed. "It seems you need to hear that too."
"I–erm—my Dad—" Hermione turned her attention to the magnificent red bird with flaming plumage and golden eyes. "Hi, Fawkes," she gingerly touched his curved obsidian beak.
"And for all Severus's complaints," Dumbledore peered at her over his glasses. "I believe your days with Hagrid early on had a positive effect."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Try telling my dad that," she grumbled before snapping to attention. "Not that he's—I mean—erm—Dad's not a bad guy, he's just–erm–" three years and I still have nothing. I know he's kind–to me—sometimes…but…
"It's alright, Hermione. I didn't ask you here to interrogate you."
Hermione narrowed her eyes and surveyed the tall man before her. A pleasant warm smile under a white moustache and beard, a knowing glimmer in his eyes, but nothing of that knowledge betrayed behind his half-moon spectacles and crooked nose.
"Wh-why am I here, Professor?" she ventured before driving her overlong teeth into her lip.
Dumbledore led her to an ancient stone basin with futhark runes etched into the grey stone work. The glowed faintly with a silvery blue hue that was reflected in the mysterious liquid. She recognized some of the runes from a book she'd read. One was "memory", another "strife", "wisdom", "knowledge" and "mind" or "psyche" were among those she recognized on closer inspection.
A stone basin, clearly old..she pondered running her fingers gingerly along the "mind" rune. Runes indicative of psyche…I read about this somewhere, perhaps… "Professor," Hermione asked, unsure. "Is this the Pensieve?"
"That it is, Hermione," he nodded and placed a ringed hand on her head. "I'm always so surprised at how clever you are."
Warmth flooded Hermione's cheeks and she wanted to sink into the ground. She didn't know if she liked this or not. She missed the warmth from before she enrolled. Dumbledore had made efforts to connect with her again but it still hurt. Not that…he was right to blame her for what happened with Ginny, wasn't he?
"I know things haven't been easy for you, Hermione," he admitted. "And I know I'm partially to blame for that. I wanted to see if I could clear up somethings between yourself and your father. I know this is odd. But the perspective could help."
"Wait," Hermione looked at the shimmering pool. "These aren't his memories, are they? I-I-I don't think I could do th-that to him, sir."
"And of course I wouldn't ask you to," he brought his wand to his temple and swirling tendrils of silver flowed from its end into the basin, sending shimmering ripples into the pool. "They're mine," he offered his hand. "It's your choice."
He didn't plan it. The two simply ran into each other. Severus was fine avoiding Remus until he "figured out what the hell he wanted" but Severus also had to leave the dungeons before he indulged his impulse to go through Hermione's letters.
Would a good father want to read the letters his daughter's boyfriend sent her? I just don't trust him…
Now he strolled along the lakeshore with Remus, who had similarly headed out to clear his mind. Remus threw bits of dried fish cake into the lake for the giant squid every now and then before continuing on the circuit, basking in the afternoon sun.
Severus admired Remus's upturned features for a brief moment before turning back to the calmly rippling waters.
"I still don't know if I want to pursue this openly," Severus sighed. "At least not yet, it's too soon. I'm not sure how it'll affect Hermione."
Remus looked up at him and admitted, "I might have jumped to conclusions. I know she has to be your first priority. Is anything else wrong? I mean, you don't normally hang around here, do you?"
My daughter hates me and can't wait to leave, but oh, everything is oh so wonderful, he thought bitterly. "Just another thankless day as a single parent," he sighed, despite himself. "I should warn you, Remus. If we do come forward and you decide to take part in her life, she'll be impossible. The instant you have her figured out, she'll just—" he groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know."
"She's growing up, Severus," Remus reminded him, not that he needed reminding.
"She is a child," he snapped automatically and glared at Remus never-had-a-bloody-child-but-suddenly-was-a-parenting-expert Lupin.
Remus narrowed his pale green eyes and backed away from him. "You were the one to bring Hermione up, Severus. If you don't want my input then don't ask for it."
"I don't recall asking for it," he seethed. "I simply—forget it."
"Fine," Remus sighed. "Forgotten. I have to go."
Well, Lily's voice echoed in his head. You certainly bolloxed that one up, didn't you, Sev?
Hermione and Dumbledore stood in his office, invisible to its current occupants. Another Dumbledore, McGonagall and a younger version of her father fawning over a bushy haired two-year-old girl in his lap.
Little Hermione nuzzled into him while he stroked the top of her head. Swathed in fuzzy pink wool from head to toe, she stood out greatly against the black of her father's robes.
"Did the headmaster take good care of you?" he spoke in a soft voice reserved for only her. "Daddy missed you."
I get it, Hermione thought. Dad took good care of me and we were close before I could walk. Should I say lesson learned and go?
"Daddy stay home?" the little girl squeaked hopefully.
"Indeed, I am," her father smiled before turning to Dumbledore. "Did she cause any trouble?"
Dumbledore shook his head with a smile. "None whatsoever. I trust you have no news to report?"
Her father placed Little Hermione on the table and grabbed a scroll from the table. "I've no news, sir. Thankfully."
Hermione bit her lip and stared at the younger version of her father. "What news? What's he talking about? Erm-Headmaster, sir."
Dumbledore stroked his long beard while pensively watching the scene. Perhaps wondering if the little girl on the table was now old enough to know what was going on. He then turned to present-day Hermione with a weak smile.
"As you know, your father has been indispensable in my work to keep Voldemort at bay," He explained. "I had him in the field collecting information on his followers."
"My father did what?" Hermione squeaked. "But he–that's so dangerous and–erm—is he—you say that–erm—how did he–is he still?"
"I'm afraid I can't explain it all, Hermione. Not yet."
Hermione turned back to the scene before her. Her father absently patted Little Hermione's head as if he hadn't just been speaking with the worst kinds of people. She cringed, unsure how to reconcile...He never confirmed it. Maybe it's not what I think.
"It seems we have reason to be optimistic," her father said.
"Optimistic," Past Dumbledore chuckled. "I had no clue that word was in your vocabulary, Severus."
"It's a recent addition," he smiled at Little Hermione.
"I never pegged you for sentimental," Past Dumbledore sighed before crooning over Little Hermione. "Daddy keeps surprising your Uncle Albus, doesn't he?"
"I believe I've asked you not to call yourself that, Headmaster," her father sighed.
"Oh, I can hardly believe you're younger than us at times, Severus," McGonagall said, joining in the crooning.
Little Hermione reached out for the old woman. "Purrfessor Kitty!" she squeaked.
"That's not her name, love," her father corrected before groaning: "Don't encourage her!"
McGonagall indeed encouraged her, taking her cat form and rubbing up against the giggling toddler, purring.
A chuckle sounded from behind Hermione and she turned to see present-day Dumbledore stifling his laughter. "I forgot about 'Purrfessor Kitty', I don't think she'd be happy if you called her that now."
Hermione shook her head. "Why did you tell me this if you won't give me details, Professor?"
Dumbledore set a hand on her shoulder once more and sighed with a weak smile. "Again, it's simply not my place, Hermione. But I do wish to provide you with perspective. We have other memories to view."
The scene faded as her father scooped up Little Hermione to the laughter of Dumbledore and McGonagall, the latter of which jokingly accused him of being jealous. Despite herself, Hermione felt a surge of warmth when she saw her father's annoyed-yet-affectionately amused look on his face.
Next Hermione found herself with two Dumbledores in a long corridor. Past Dumbledore did not look happy. It wasn't the fuming anger or quiet seething anger of her father, but a calm and collected rage with purpose.
Hermione turned to the direction he walked and saw two figures, close to her age in the distance. One was a tall, lanky boy with limp black hair that fell past his shoulders and the other was a red-haired girl who laughed cheerfully.
The boy, is that..."Dad?" she squeaked
Hermione turned to present-day Dumbledore, who encouraged her to reach the pair before Past Dumbledore did with a smile.
She wanted nothing more than to know about her father's past, and here it was on a platter. Hermione ran to them, curiosity burning within her. Finally, she might get some answers.
Her father still stood tall, but not quite his adult height, with thin limbs that disappeared beneath oversized, faded robes with a Slytherin tie. His greasy hair hid his black eyes and hooked nose, and he seemed paler. But on closer inspection, he looked happy, his lips curled in a smile when the girl moved his hair out of his face.
The girl was extremely pretty, with a heart shaped ivory, freckle-less face, an emergent hourglass shape to her body and dark red hair that trailed past her waist. Though what was most notable were her bright green eyes, shaped like almonds.
Harry's eyes. Oh my God, is that… Hermione noted the gold and scarlet bowtie indicating she was in Gryffindor. That was…no, it couldn't be, could it?
"Mary, Donna and I are doing Karaoke at the Three Broomsticks tomorrow. You should come!" the girl–Harry's mother—insisted.
"Karaoke?" her father laughed. "How'd they manage that?"
"Magic cards play the music and words come up in the air before you. It's really quite fascinating. And fun. They have ABBA."
"I don't know," her father shrugged. "I have work to do. And I don't think your friends like me very much."
"Come on!" she rolled her green eyes. "You know they might like you if you were nicer to them."
"If I were nicer to them?" he scoffed, raising a familiar eyebrow. "Need I repeat what Mary said? I believe that I 'only have you for a friend because you pity me'."
"You did call Donna a 'mewling, moronic, bitch', Sev."
"After your beloved Donna called me 'miserable prat with an attitude as ugly as my face'," he reminded her.
"Donna's…she's well," Lily sighed. "Comeon, I just want my friends to all get if they saw you weren't so—" she paused and smirked. "So when you're near me, darling can't you hear me SOS!"
She paused her off-key rendition for her father to sing the next line. He didn't. Lily pressed on with vigour until her father gave in, equally off-key and lyrics sung between bits of laughter.
Hermione smiled watching the two just goofing off like any other kids her age might. Her father's mysterious past, at least in this moment, gone. He was another awkward kid. Just like her. Likewise Harry's saint-like mother was just another young girl. And they both sang and danced very badly.
"Mr Snape," Past Dumbledore appeared before them, this time he could loom over her father. "I would like a word with you, now."
"Headmaster," her father snapped to attention, smile vanishing from his face. "Of course, sir."
"You may leave, Lily," Past Dumbledore noted.
Lily bowed her head. "Yes, sir." But before she left she mouthed the words 'karaoke, Hogsmede,'
'I'll be there,' her father mouthed back before turning his attention back to the unimpressed Past Dumbledore.
"James Potter is in the hospital while Madam Pomfrey deflates his head. Care to explain how this could happen?"
Her father attempted a very early version of his unbothered, cold gaze. It wasn't the look that so often created unease among Hermione and her peers, not yet. "With Potter that could have happened naturally. I always did say his head would outgrow him."
"Mr Snape," he peered over his glasses. "I'm giving you a chance to set the record straight."
Hermione's father then did something she'd never seen before, he shrank. "Potter jinxed me last week in front of the whole class. McGonagall punished me."
"Professor McGonagall gave you both detention, I believe. Like me, I believe she couldn't figure out which of you is responsible for that years- long feud."
"Let me clarify, Headmaster," her father growled. "It was Potter. Not that you believe me."
Past Dumbledore glowered at the boy before him "Did I say whether or not I believed you? You jump to conclusions too quickly."
"Sorry, Headmaster," he mumbled, shrinking once more.
"Do you realise how serious this is?" Past Dumbledore said. "James Potter's neck nearly broke under the weight of his skull."
A shift in demeanour once more. Hermione's father grew even paler, his eyes widened and he ran his hands through his hair. "He won't—I didn't mean to—he'll be fine, won't he?"
"I'm relieved to see you're not rejoicing in the prospect of a classmate's death," Past Dumbledore sighed. "James will be fine. But it could have been much worse, you understand?"
Her father nodded stiffly.
"This isn't the first time you've attacked James Potter or his friends. Just the first time it could have been much more severe. I don't know if I can risk having a student that casts so recklessly."
Panic set in once more and it seemed her father was trying to stop himself from trembling. "Headmaster, please. I nearly got eaten by a hawk when he turned me into a bat. I thought I was going to die!"
Surprise crossed Past Dumbledore's face, this must have been new information to him. "I'll talk to Professor McGonagall about that incident. It's been nearly three years now, and both of you keep escalating. Perhaps it would be best if you both had some time away to think about it."
Her father no longer could stop himself from trembling as he looked up at Past Dumbledore in horror. "You don't mean suspension, Headmaster, do you?"
Past Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "I'm afraid so."
"Headmaster," her father choked and tears filled his eyes. "Please, please don't send me back to that place."
"Severus," Past Dumbledore's voice and face softened. "Perhaps we should discuss this in my office."
Her father nodded, surprised at the sudden softness.
"Your father never did tell me what was going on," Dumbledore told Hermione. "I, of course, have my suspicions. Did he ever tell you about your grandparents?"
Hermione shook her head, watching a teenaged version of her father be comforted by an adult for perhaps the first time. "No, sir."
The scene faded to yet another one. This time Hermione watched a teenaged version of her father helping Past Dumbledore sort through piles of paperwork.
"Was Lily Evans disappointed you couldn't accompany her to Hogsmede?" Past Dumbledore asked.
"She understood, sir. I imagine her friends were relieved. I did, however, get some cheeky comments about landing myself in detention, so I'll have to atone. Is there anything else, Headmaster?"
Past Dumbledore smiled and shook his head. "That'll be all for today, Severus. But is there anything you wish to tell me? Anything at all?"
Her father looked down around and thought a moment before shaking his head. "No, sir."
"Very well," he smiled. "Same time next week, Severus."
Past Dumbledore's face fell as he watched the boy leave. He shared the expression with his modern self.
"I very much wanted to help him then, Hermione," Dumbledore said. "But I didn't have anything to act on.I thought if I gained the boy's trust he might tell me. Though as you already now, that never happened."
A montage of scenes flew before Hermione of her father as a boy helping Past Dumbledore with an assortment of tasks. At first the exchanges were awkward, and her father seemed suspicious of Dumbledore's kindness. It never completely faded, but he gradually let his guard slip, bit by bit.
"Very good," Past Dumbledore put a hand on the top of her father's head. "Thank you, Severus."
Hermione watched her father's cheeks flush and his eyes drift away as he tried to stop a smile from spreading across his face. The scene was familiar, how often had a gentle hand on her head been how she received affection from her father?
"Erm, Headmaster," her father said in a later meeting, Past Dumbledore's hand resting on his head. "Could I–erm–ask you something?"
"Of course, Severus," he smiled.
"Well," he averted his gaze. "Summer break will be soon, and I was wondering if I would be able to stay here for the duration. I'm willing to work! I can clean, stock cupboards, and I make a decent marzipan!"
Past Dumbledore chuckled and shook his head at this. "You're fourteen, Severus, you shouldn't be spending the four summers you have left toiling away. Perhaps you can arrange for you to stay with someone else? A friend perhaps?"
"Yes, sir," he nodded, his face falling.
"Is there some reason you do not wish to go home, Severus?" Past Dumbledore asked.
"No, sir."
Hermione found herself back in Dumbledore's present day office with present day Dumbledore, who eyed her intently.
"Severus came back in September with his deep mistrust in people renewed. I made some progress with him, but the summer afterward I all but lost him completely. What happened those summers is something he'd have to tell you."
Hermione thought about the boy begging not to be sent home with tears welling up in his eyes. She clasped her hands together and dug her fingernails into the back of her hands."Why didn't you let him stay?"
"I think you know better than I that this is no place for a child during the summer," Dumbledore peered over his glasses. "And if I wasn't given reason, my hands were tied."
"He begged," Hermione shuddered, wondering what horrors awaited him back home. "You even said you had your suspicions!"
"It's not that simple, Hermione," Dumbledore said. "I wish it was. But I couldn't very well just sweep in and take a child from his family without proof. If they decided to take him back, they could and it would have been worse for him."
Hermione didn't know what to make of it. Yes, it had the potential to become worse, but leaving him there was actively hurting him. She didn't need all the details to know his parents abused him in some way. It was hard to believe that Dumbledore was helpless to intervene.
Hermione drove her nails further into skin and bit her lip. "You should have done more."
Dumbledore was now the one to avert his gaze, Hermione astounded the man could feel shame. He re-established eye contact with a haunted expression she hadn't seen before. "We both agree there, Hermione."
Hermione thought she wanted him to feel guilt over his neglect. Or she thought she did, seeing how disturbed he was, all she could feel now was pity, and disgust in herself for wanting him to be miserable.
"Professor," Hermione cautiously reached for his arm and changed her mind, clasping her hands once more. "Why did you show me that?"
"To help you understand why he's so protective," Dumbledore peered at her over his half-moon glasses. "He didn't have the best upbringing, and was a very lonely boy. As an adult he started very dangerous work for me. Severus sees danger everywhere and kindness nowhere. Yet he never seemed to see fit to tell you why."
Hermione bit her lip. What about Harry's mum? "But he had at least one friend. They seemed so close, sir. Dad talks about Harry's dad all the time, but he never once mentioned that he was friends with his mum. Why?"
In truth, she was already mulling over potential reasons. For a brief, very brief, moment she focused on the almond shape of Lily's eyes, her high cheekbones and short nose. Before she remembered that both her father and Harry's mum were white. Hermione was just so desperate to know her mother that she took features seen across tens of thousands as a clue. Not to mention the timing was simply impossible.
If she wasn't her mysterious mother, maybe there was some dramatic fallout and they hated each other after graduation. That was far more likely. If Lily Potter was his only friend, maybe her death was just too painful to revisit. Hermione did have a middle name for her…
"Does Harry know?" she asked in a small voice.
"No," Dumbledore chuckled. "And it's important it stays that way for the time being, I'm afraid."
What the hell am I supposed to do with this information, then?!
"You'll be a world away soon enough, love," Severus placed a hand on Hermione's head. "I'd be nice if you could be here mentally."
Hermione looked up at him with a weak smile. "Sorry, I haven't been sleeping well. You were saying?"
Severus set his hand on her forehead to gauge for fever, though all he found were her ringed eyes. "Are you certain you don't wish to have sleeping potions? It could help."
Hermione shook her head. "I'm fine, Dad."
"You've not touched your food," he observed. The full container of strawberries–her favourite fruit–on the blanket were untouched.
Picnic by the lake, why did I think this was such a bright idea, again? Severus leaned against the tree, still examining Hermione, but being 'cognisant of her personal space'. Because parents can't simply check their child's welfare.
She just seemed tired. Hermione insisted it was simply because she wanted to adjust to the new timezone, but there seemed to be quite a bit on her mind. Severus noted no physical ailments outside of exhaustion.
Hermione, to his surprise, didn't bring up the Yamato boy's invitation again, instead she reverted back to her over-eagerness to please him. Severus wondered if he should speak with Dumbledore about their meeting. He had assumed it was simply to ingratiate himself with the girl, as the old man still felt rightfully guilty about his treatment of her after the chamber.
"And you're certain there's nothing bothering you?" he asked, placing a hand on the top of her head.
Hermione nodded and turned her attention to the giant ginger cat in her lap. "You'll take good care of him, right?"
"I doubt that cat will be more difficult than you as a toddler," She's your daughter, say something nice. "You were always too clever for your own good." IDIOT!
"You think I'm clever?" She squeaked before averting her gaze.
Have I not told you that before? "Of course, I do," he patted her head once more. "My life would have been much easier if you weren't."
"Oh," Hermione pet Crookshanks, keeping her eyes on him. "Sorry."
Damn it! "Hermione, that's not what I—" he shook his head. "I was clearly teasing."
"Erm," Hermione bit her lip before looking up at him with a fake smile. "Yeah of course. Nearly fourteen-years-old and I still haven't any clue how to read social cues."
"Two days," he said, eager to change the topic. "Are you looking forward to it?"
After some more prodding he finally got her talking. Hesitant at first, but soon her excitement was palpable as she spoke of classes, traditions and reprising her role at the Mahoutokoro Mercury. She did speak of her friends and Hiro Yamato, but she showed some reluctance in sharing the details of her social life abroad.
Silence prevailed again when she finished. He looked for things to talk about without much as Severus liked silence, it was unsettling when Hermione visibly churned over hundreds of thoughts, considering and then failing to bring them up.
"Oh!" Severus waved his wand and summoned an intricately carved box to them. "I was out the other day with Remus and found this. I know it's been a while since you've painted but I thought of you."
Hermione hesitated, her hands hovering over the wooden box he'd presented her with. "Dad, this is too–" she opened it gingerly, admiring the black, red and indigo bricks, and brushes. "These are beautiful, you shouldn't have."
"Nonsense, love," He set a hand on her head. "Remus mentioned that instead of quills you use brushes and grind the ink manually.I understand you're already prepared for your school work, but I figured if you'd like to start painting again, you'd appreciate this. It seems I was right."
Hermione smiled, closing the box and setting it aside. "Thank you, Dad."
"You're more than welcome."
"So," Hermione ventured with a smile. "You've been spending quite a bit of time with Professor Lupin. Are you two together?"
Severus choked. He was going to tell her once she was back. Both he and Remus decided after their argument that that was for the best. That way she wouldn't have to process it while she was away.
Now she was asking outright. He couldn't very well lie to her and say 'well, actually' when she returned.
"Well, well, well," he smirked, tickling her. "It seems I was right. You are too clever for your own good."
Hermione giggled madly and flinched, upsetting the previously sleeping cat. "Dad!"
"Though now that you've figured it out," he sighed. "Is there anything you would like to ask me? I know it must be strange."
"I don't think so," Hermione shook her head. "I'm just happy if you are. And—erm–y-you are, right?"
"It's early yet, Hermione," he explained. "But I think know you're still my first priority, yes?"
Hermione nodded with a smile and a hand on his.. "Of course, Dad. And you're mine."
I'm not supposed to be, love. You are. He smiled and set his hand on her hand again.
"Speak of the devil," Hermione observed. "I think that's him now."
Remus stood in his own little world on the lake shore with a book in his lap. Severus watched the lonely man for a moment before turning back to his daughter.
"You can call him over if you want," she said. "I don't mind."
"Hermione, I wasn't planning on—" Severus was cut-off by Remus's sudden re-entry to earth.
After a period of silence and an awkward wave from both parties, Remus tilted his head to the side like a confused dog, and Severus shrugged and became aware of his daughter staring on equally uncertain, though certainly amused.
I suppose amusement is better than resentment, He thought back to stories of children sabotaging their parents relationships, or shutting them out or even acting out. This was certainly better, but he felt it was wrong to be so uncertain and awkward in front of his child. Severus tried–and as of recent, so often failed—to come across as always knowing what he was doing.
Another shrug passed between the two men before Severus waved him over. Remus joined the two still uncertain.
"I'm not intruding, am I?" he asked.
I'm still figuring that out. "Not at all," Severus said, pulling Hermione into his lap. "Besides, this one doesn't think she needs to eat, so it'll prevent it from going to waste."
Hermione gave a frustrated squeak and fell silent, perhaps to Severus's comment. Her cat, on the other hand, protested his moving her. Crookshanks glared at him before hopping back in her lap, spared on more look of disdain and formed a tight ginger cushion, ready to resume dosing.
"You'll stunt your growth," Remus told her (as if Severus hadn't told the girl a hundred times) taking his place on the blanket.
"Y-you both know I'm thirteen, right?" Hermione said in a small voice.
"As you keep reminding me," Severus sighed, brushing his hand over her head.
"Oh, did your dad give you the Sumi-e kit we found?" he asked. "We were walking around after din–I mean–erm—"
"It's fine, Remus," Severus said. "She knows."
"Oh," Remus grew red in the cheeks and looked down. "I thought we were going to–"
"She found out," he sighed. "I recommend getting used to it, I doubt I'll have any secrets intact by the time she's twenty (I hope that isn't true). Your curiosity will be the end of me, eh, little girl?"
Hermione didn't dignify this with a response. Severus sighed once more and simply continued running his hand over her bushy little head.
"I shouldn't be surprised," Remus smiled with a shrug.
The three of them spent the afternoon basking in the shade, Hermione quickly gave in to her exhaustion falling asleep and leaning into him. A pang struck him as it occurred to him that this might be the last time his child were to ever fall asleep in his arms.
'I'm almost fourteen!' He had greater distaste for that reality than he cared to admit.
"When does she leave again?" Remus asked.
"Two days," Severus said. "I suppose one now."
"Are you ready for her to go?"
Severus looked down at the small girl dosing on him and sighed: "I doubt I'll ever be."