Hermione had spent most of Saturday thinking about Snape's standing in Wizarding society. She and her friends knew the full truth of what Snape had done and why, and were all in agreement that while he might not be the nicest man in the world, he was clearly a hero, worthy of their respect, admiration and gratitude. She had thought, perhaps foolishly, that everyone else felt the same. His acquittal at trial had been well publicised, and many Order members had spoken out publicly on his behalf. During the first few months back at Hogwarts, she had been in such a daze she hadn't really given this any thought, and though she had observed Snape keenly, she hadn't really considered him in a wider context. Hermione had resolved to scan through Ginny's Daily Prophets (she had happily given up her own subscription and avoided the thing like the plague since it had reported on her parents' disownment), and watch how the occupants of the castle interacted with him. It was, she supposed, though not without a flash of indignation, not surprising that Snape might not be as well regarded as she had assumed. He had killed a much beloved Wizard, and overseen a regime of cruelty and Darkness for the better part of the year. Those who had been effected by this, either by direct torture or the torture of someone they cared about, would probably find it hard to forgive and forget, regardless of the circumstances. And besides, if the press after the war had taught her anything, it was that everyone loved to have an opinion.
Hermione sighed as she put on her outer cloak and readied herself to head out to Dumbledore's tomb, part of the problem was undoubtedly how difficult of a person Snape was. He made it only too easy to believe the worst of him. But surely someone in the 38 years that Snape had been alive, had realised his value. Lily certainly hadn't, or she wouldn't have ended their friendship so easily, regardless of what Snape had said to her when he was hurt and humiliated. Dumbledore's cruel words echoed in Hermione's head – You disgust me – but perhaps the Headmaster had come to realise what sort of a person Snape really was over the years. But then, Hermione thought uneasily, he couldn't have truly cared for Snape, or he would never have asked him to commit such a horrific act, or endure the last year of the war all alone.
Frowning to herself, Hermione made her way through the grounds and out towards the grave. It was less snowy now, but still bitterly cold and icy. Professor Snape was already there when she arrived, his black clad form cutting through the whiteness all around him. He didn't acknowledge her when she sat down, but Hermione decanted the tea into two mugs and had to supress her smile when he took the second mug from her with a slight nod of his head. It felt like an age had passed since they'd last done this, but it had only been a few short weeks.
"Thank you for the book, sir." She said quietly, handing the green volume back to Snape who shrunk and pocketed it. "It was very interesting."
"You've already finished it."
"Yes sir. And started the first one from the list of references."
"Of course you have." Snape sneered. "Why the sudden interest in wandlore?"
"Well," Hermione paused, not wanting to engage Snape in a true conversation if it was likely to trigger his temper again. "Obviously what happened with Harry and the Elder wand was utterly fascinating, but it's pretty much unprecedented. Before last year I hadn't had any reason to really ... consider wands, if that makes any sense. I'd only ever used mine and it was familiar and easy and nothing more than a tool I used to channel my magic. I actually gave Harry a really hard time when he complained about having to use a different wand, I thought he was being silly. But then I used a few different wands myself and I couldn't believe how much they all varied. They felt ... everything from borderline friendly to downright hostile. Bellatrix's wand was just-" Hermione broke off and shivered. "I had no idea they had ... an opinion I guess. I'm not articulating this very well, it's so hard to explain. But my experiences have made me want to understand more about wandlore, and it's such an obscure and under researched subject. I do love a project."
"Have you used that many wands?" Snape was frowning slightly, but it seemed a genuine question.
"A fair few." Hermione paused, trying to gauge whether Snape wanted her to elaborate. He was looking blankly ahead, but his head was tilted towards her and he wasn't showing any signs of annoyance. "On the run I used Harry's, a blackthorn wand we took off a group of Snatchers, Draco Malfoy's (Harry took it from him at Malfoy Manor) and Bellatrix's. Since then I've asked quite a few people if I can try theirs to see what they're like." She frowned, wanting to properly express how it had been. "Harry's, Ron's and Ginny's all sort of ... recognised me. They still felt somewhat unfamiliar, but ... friendly. And they worked fine. The other Weasleys' wands didn't resist, but didn't exactly cooperate either. I don't think Mrs Weasley's liked me, actually, which I was slightly offended by, but then we are very different people so it perhaps shouldn't have come as such a surprise. Lavender's and Hannah's were similar, they didn't feel unfriendly and they cooperated, but grudgingly. Neville's wand rejected me instantly. Luna's felt distinctly friendly and welcoming, but I couldn't make it do anything, really. My magic went haywire. And Professor McGonagall's felt like it was trying to leap away from me to get back to her." Hermione smiled at the memory. "It's just so interesting that they can express such clear preferences like that, it's not true sentience, but it's like they have a ... a will, I suppose." She cut herself off, not wanting to annoy Snape with her enthusiasm, and silence settled between them as they drank their tea.
"I don't recall ever using a wand that was not my own." Snape said finally, his voice almost a whisper.
"Here." Said Hermione, pulling out her own Vinewood wand and offering it to her Professor.
His head whipped around, shocked black eyes meeting startled amber. Then he looked at her proffered wand as if he couldn't quite believe what was happening. Hermione clenched her jaw as he finally took it and held it reverently in his pale hand.
"How does it it feel?" She murmured.
Snape frowned and shifted it slightly in his palm.
"May I perform a spell?" He asked, his tone unusually hesitant and ... polite.
"Yes of course." Hermione fought to keep her own voice steady. "Go right ahead."
Pausing for only the briefest moment, Snape raised her wand in an arch above their heads and threw a warming charm around them. The temperature immediately rose several degrees, and as Snape lowered the wand, a few golden sparks shot from the tip. Giving the wand a final, thoughtful glance, he handed it back to her and stared down at the floor.
"It felt-" He broke off and balled his hands into fists briefly. "I see what you mean about it being difficult to express. I believe it ... recognised me, as you said, and ...cooperated." To her surprise, a flush flared briefly on his sunken cheeks. "It felt ... warm."
Hermione felt herself blush in response, wondering with mortified horror if her wand had picked up on and expressed some of her regard for Snape. Before she had time to dwell on this horrendous thought, she was being presented with his own ebony wand while he studiously avoided her eyes. Hermione suddenly understood his reaction when she had initiated this little experiment. It hadn't seemed like a big deal with her friends, nor really when she'd offered her wand to Snape, but looking down at his hand extended towards her, offering her his most sacred possession, it dawned on her just how intimate this was.
"Thank you." She said finally, taking the wand into her hand and palming it as her heart raced. "Oh."
"You can sense something from it?" Snape briefly glanced over at her.
"Sort of." Hermione paused. "May I preform a spell?"
Snape nodded in response, and Hermione melted some snow around the base of the tomb, then passed the wand back to Snape, who was still not looking at her.
"Well I wouldn't say it recognised me." She said finally. "But it cooperated and it felt ... a lot less hostile than I was expecting."
Truthfully, it had also felt warm and almost welcoming, but she didn't think it wise to announce this when the Potions Master was obviously already feeling so uncomfortable. Snape looked incredibly tense, but when she merely refilled their mugs and didn't elaborate, he finally seemed to relax.
Sometime later, darkness was spreading across the sky, and Hermione was considering leaving when Snape surprised her by speaking again.
"Miss Granger." He hesitated and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Miss Granger, could you explain to me the events that led to the 7 of you having a tea party on the Astronomy Tower after midnight with Professor Sinistra?"
Hermione was unable to supress the grin that spread across her face..
"Lavender noticed that Professor Sinistra had seemed sad recently." She said simply, watching with amusement as Snape processed this.
"And?" He asked finally, looking annoyed for the first time.
"And so we decided to go and cheer her up."
Snape's eyebrows shot up to his hairline and he turned and looked at her incredulously.
"Let me get this right." His voice was quiet velvet. "Miss Brown noticed that Professor Sinistra had seemed distressed, so instead of raising this with an appropriate person, you all decided to strut up there with tea and cake and settle in for the night?"
"Something like that." Hermione smiled, Snape's tone was mocking, but she could detect no real hostility. "Draco was dubious about the idea as well - shocked and horrified might be more accurate actually - but he came along and we all had a great time."
"Gryffindors are insufferable." He said finally, though again, his words lacked venom.
"We have a Hufflepuff, a Ravenclaw and a Slytherin too." Hermione countered. "You can't blame the whole thing on Gryffindors."
"Who's idea was it?" He demanded, then smirked when he took in Hermione's expression.
"Ginny's." She admitted. "But everyone went along with it. Draco included."
Snape raised one eyebrow mockingly, but didn't comment further, and when they finally made their way back inside, he responded to her soft 'Goodnight' with a nod and the slightest raise of one side of his mouth, which Hermione decided was a half smile. She was absolutely thrilled about it.
For the first few days after her latest encounter with Professor Snape, Hermione had mentioned it to no one. She was buoyed beyond belief with how well it had gone, how cordial he had been, just how good it had been to talk to him.
But now, she wanted a second opinion, so she'd been giving Ginny the rundown as the two of them sat on her window seat and ate Mrs Weasley's cookies.
"I can't believe he gave you his wand." Ginny seemed stunned by this development.
"Yes," Hermione said thoughtfully. "It did feel... I don't have the words for it."
"Hermione," Ginny sighed. "I don't know how to say this without it sounding insulting. But I don't think you realise how big of a deal this is, being muggleborn. There's a reason wandlore is so poorly understood; wizards don't go around handing their wands to other people. Like ever. It just isn't done. It's like giving someone a part of your soul."
"But," said Hermione faintly. "But it can't be! You and your family all gave me your wands to try."
"Yes," Ginny agreed. "But my family is hardly traditional. And besides, you're like family to us. It's not uncommon for husbands and wives to share wands, but beyond that it's almost unheard of among pureblood societies. Wands are considered too precious."
"But Harry, Neville, Luna, Lavender and Hannah all let me try theirs!"
"Some of your closest friends, Hermione! Snape hardly falls into that category! Plus they're all younger and less traditional and have every reason to trust you implicitly." Ginny's eyes were as serious and intent as Hermione had ever seen them, and something about this conversation was making her panic.
"Professor McGonagall let me try hers." She whispered. "She's not one of my closest friends, or young."
"And we both know that women loves you, Hermione." Ginny said gently.
"Maybe Professor Snape didn't realise the significance of it either?" Hermione suggested, half heartedly.
"That's unlikely, he's been moving in pureblood circles for years. I think he knew exactly how significant it was. And I think he was counting on you not realising."
"Why do you say that?" Hermione could feel tears stinging in her eyes, though she was unsure why.
"Because he wouldn't want to give himself away like that, would he?"
"I don't think I really understand what you're saying."
"I'm saying I think he cares about you. I think he was incredibly touched by you giving him your wand, then decided you didn't realise exactly what you were doing. But then your wand accepted him, which probably also touched him, and he wanted to do something nice in return, so he gave you his wand, hoping you'd never realise the significance of what he was doing. It was an incredible show of trust Hermione, he didn't only make himself defenceless, he gave you a part of himself."
"Only for a moment." Hermione muttered uncomfortably. "I couldn't have held it for more than a minute. And I don't believe for a second he was truly defenceless."
"Still." Ginny dismissed this with a casual wave of her hand. "It would have been quite a gesture from anyone who didn't know you very well, let alone someone like Snape. Plus doing something that nice thinking you wouldn't understand is so Slytherin." Ginny rolled her eyes. "Maybe he still feels bad for being so horrible to you. But regardless of his motivations, this means something. You would hardly casually hand over your wand to some random wizard you barely knew, would you?"
Hermione sat there, dumbfounded.
"What do you think he meant about your wand feeling warm, Hermione?" Ginny asked. "My wand recognises and respects you and vice versa, but I wouldn't describe it like that at all."
"I don't know for sure." Hermione felt herself flush.
"But?" Ginny asked grinning. "You've gone bright red, you obviously have an idea and it's obviously one you don't like."
"Well..." Hermione paused, bracing herself. "It makes sense to me that my wand would recognise and respond to Professor Snape. And I ... I wondered if it had picked up on my ... on how much I care about him and tried to offer him some comfort." Hermione cringed. "But then I'm not sure that's right, because I felt some sort of warmth when I held his wand too."
"Hmmm." Said Ginny thoughtfully. "What exactly did you feel from Snape's wand?"
"It's really hard to describe." Hermione closed her eyes, thinking back. "I was expecting it to reject me instantly, but it felt like it ... it welcomed me. Much more than the man himself ever has. And it felt ... amiable, I guess. I don't know, it was weird."
"That is weird.." Ginny suddenly grinned wider, her eyes full of mischief. "Hermione, Professor Snape's wand likes you."
"Ginny!" Hermione put her head in her hands.
"Why does this bother you?" Ginny demanded. "You care about him, you want to help him. Why is it freaking you out that he might not dislike you as much as you've always thought?"
"I don't know!" Hermione almost shouted. "I could barely wrap my head around the idea he might not hate my company and now you're telling me he was offering me his soul?! I can barely keep myself together at the best of times, what the hell am I supposed to do with this?!"
"Okay." Ginny grabbed Hermione's flailing hands and pulled them down, holding her tightly. "You're panicking. Stop it. Breathe."
Obediently, Hermione breathed.
"I didn't mean Snape was professing his undying love for you, Hermione. I just wanted you to understand what a show of trust it was. He obviously thinks more of you than we thought, that's all. It's not a bad thing. This doesn't mean anything's changed, only our understanding. What are you over there panicking about exactly?! That Snape's going to throw himself at your feet and make you his newest Master?!"
"Yes, okay good point." Hermione made a conscious effort to relax. "It's just a lot to take in, that's all. Tolerating my company because he doesn't have anything else is one thing, but I can't understand why it should be anything more than that."
"I've been thinking about this actually." Ginny said, releasing Hermione's hands and and leaning back. "I think he respects you. I'm not sure it's anything more dramatic than that."
"There must be other people he respects, Ginny."
"Maybe, but you weren't here last year, he doesn't associate you with the guilt and anger and resentment he does everyone else. You were out there saving the world, keeping Harry safe while he couldn't. And I'm sure he heard about what happened at Malfoy Manor. You survived torture by Bellatrix Lestrange. Snape might well understand what you went through better than anyone."
Hermione rubbed her arm where the word 'mudblood' had been carved. Even the thought of that woman made it ache.
"Plus," Ginny continued. "He was horrible to you, you made it clear that wasn't acceptable, he apologised, and then you both moved forwards. How many times do you think that's happened to him?"
"Perhaps." She said finally. "I get that he might feel respect for what I've been through and I understand that he probably needs some sort of company, but he still doesn't like me."
"I'm not sure he likes anyone." Ginny said dismissively. "This doesn't change anything, he's still the same mean bastard he's always been. But there's more to him than that, and it looks like you might be in with a chance of seeing it. All my earlier warnings still stand though Hermione, be bloody careful."
"I will." Hermione scrubbed her face, feeling overwhelmed though nothing had truly changed. "When did you get all wise and insightful?"
"I always have been." Ginny rolled her eyes. "You were just too busy being a hero and ogling my brother before to notice."
Hermione was listening with half an ear as Hannah talked about the Crups she had grown up with and Draco mocked his Fathers flamboyant albino peacocks. She really enjoyed these Friday evenings together, and appreciated the fact that beyond setting up the room she wasn't really required to do much actual hosting.
She had had her catch up with Professor McGonagall and had been pleased to be able to tell her she was feeling much better. Christmas had undoubtedly been a difficult time, but she felt she was turning a corner and pleased to report to the Headmistress that she was finally seeing Dr Prewett regularly. Her weekly sessions with the psychiatrist were helpful and informative, she took her cues from Hermione and let her talk about whatever was on her mind, offering her insights and coping strategies without prying or pushing her too hard. She'd had time to process her talk with Ginny as well and calm down a little from her initial shock. Respect made sense to Hermione, she had shown Professor Snape respect when she had given him her wand, and he had returned it by giving her his. Despite what the youngest Weasley had said, she wasn't sure there was more to it than that.
"Daddy and I found a baby Horsegryph once, it had been abandoned by the herd and we tried to raise it, but it only lived a few months. I cried for days."
"A Horsegryph?" Hermione asked, before she could stop herself. "What's that?"
"It's a hybrid." Lavender answered. "A horse/Hippogryph cross."
"It's real?!"
"Of course it's real, Hermione." Luna looked at her, frowning. "They're not that uncommon."
"A Hippogryph having a baby with a horse?!" Hermione demanded. "I've never read about that."
"That's because lots of people who write books are pureblood snobs at heart." Ginny said fiercely. "Lots of people don't like to discuss magical creatures mating with non-magical animals."
"Why?" Hermione asked faintly, wondering just how much of wizarding society she was still ignorant to.
"Who knows." Hannah responded, sadly. "But they're often killed by wizards when they're found. Sometimes under the guise of putting them out of their misery, if they're unwell, but some see them as abominations."
"Those spiders in the Forbidden forests are hybrids." Ginny offered. "Acromantulas crossed with spiders."
Hermione stared at her. Of course they were.
"Are there lots of hybrids out there then?" She asked.
"Not loads." Draco answered. "But some. My Father had a friend who bred Firecrabs with tortoises, he was trying to breed away the flames they shoot, but keep their jewelled shells. He gave up after a while when they were all born without jewels and prone to spontaneous combustion."
"Remember Hagrids Blast-Ended Skrewts?" Hannah said with a shudder.
"Of course I remember them." Hermione answered. "But they were a result of forced breeding between two magical creatures, it didn't happen naturally."
"My Nan told me about a flock of Augrey/Buzzard crosses on the Isle of Skye. They were so successful they had to be culled because they started venturing near muggles and their moaning kept causing car crashes." Neville said.
"It's not unusual for Knarls to breed with hedgehogs." Lavender supplied. "I think a lot of them are actually crosses now."
"Mum told us about a Griffin in Africa that got a bunch of lions pregnant, all the babies were born as perfect little lions, but with eagle wings. Their Ministry had to send out a whole army of Obliviators because a group of muggles on safari saw them all flapping about."
"A Jobberknoll can breed with Blue Tits." Luna said smiling. "You wouldn't know they were magical to look at, but they scream all the sounds they've heard backwards almost every day. There's a lady in rural Canada that manages a reservation built for them. She's deaf."
"Was she deaf before she started managing the reservation or is deafness just an occupation hazard?" Draco asked, and the others laughed.
Hermione sighed to herself as the conversation moved on. It was times like this that being a muggleborn felt really hard. It didn't matter how much she read, how hard she worked, it didn't matter that she had fought for and bled for this society that she belonged to, there were always going to be things about the culture of the wizarding world that she wouldn't know unless someone told her. It was the same with wands. She wasn't ... a native. And no matter how long she existed in this world, there were always going to be things she didn't understand. It felt so unfair.
That Sunday, Hermione headed to the grave with nervous excitement tingling through her veins. She was the first one there, and set up warming charms around the bench. Even if Snape was in no mood to talk to her again, she was looking forward to simply being in his presence, just the two of them. It was oddly relaxing, despite how on edge he could make her.
The man himself arrived several minutes later, giving her a slight nod in greeting before he sat down and gathered his robes around himself. Hermione drank in the sight of him, striking, ridiculous, impressive as he was. She decanted the tea and smiled slightly at him as he took his mug from her. His face was blank, his eyes tense, and it felt a long time before he began to relax and drink his tea.
As the time stretched on, Hermione realised he seemed unlikely to initiate conversation this week. The thought brought a light wave of disappointment, but it was tempered by the knowledge that he had come, and was spending time with her. It felt prudent to her to maintain the silence Snape seemed to prefer, so she allowed herself to become absorbed in her thoughts, and let time slip away from her.
It was dark when she felt a light tap on her upper arm. Starting slightly, Hermione looked up at Snape in surprise, she hadn't heard him stand. He indicated they should head back inside by tilting his head back towards the path, and she smiled and nodded, standing too.
They walked back side by side, using the light from their wands. Hermione let her arm bump against Snape's before they went up the castle. She could have easily pretended it was an accident, if he or anyone else had asked. She could hardly admit, even in her own mind, that she had wanted to give him warmth, just as her wand had done the previous week.
Sorry this one is a bit shorter, the next few are chunky to make up for it :)
