03 Change of scenery

25 December 1999, late evening/night

On entering his living room, Hermione came to a halt in the doorframe and took it in. It was unexpectedly non-menacing: A sofa and two comfortable emerald-green armchairs in front of a fireplace, each accompanied by a dark wooden coffee table and visually held together by a fluffy silvery-grey carpet. The wall opposite the fireplace was completely hidden by an oversized bookshelf, which didn't suffice for all books as some were piled in front of it and next to one of the armchairs. This was his preferred one, she supposed. Directly to her left was a large wooden desk, where some papers and even more books sat on. There was also a tasteful tea set placed on the room-facing side. As was to be expected of him, useless decorations were scarce, but the chandeliers on the mantelpiece were appealing.

When Severus recognized her standing motionless at the door, he sighed audibly and went back to navigate her by the shoulders into the bookless armchair in front of the hearth with the crackling fire. She shivered slightly and was covered by a silvery-grey blanket Severus had picked up from the sofa. Hermione had already recognized Pank's presence on entering and now the elf handed her a mug with steaming hot chocolate and enthusiastically ensured Severus to have everything prepared as he had ordered and Severus, to Hermione's astonishment, thanked him politely.

Not wanting to draw more attention to herself, she kept her eyes on the dancing flames of the fire and continued to feel awkward for herself. There was no need to see Severus or encourage him to ask questions on the topic at hand. He settled into the armchair opposite hers and drank his chocolate quietly, slowly relaxing. She'd never believed him to be a chocolate person, but then its warming abilities were known to all having ever been attacked by Dementors, so this might just be for medicinal reasons. On having finished her drink, she worked up her courage and cleared her throat.

"I'd rather not go to a hospital, but it- it seems, well, no- I'm aware rather, that babysitting me is asked a bit too much-. I already owe you and can't thank you enough for it," she stated wearily, feeling ashamed and staring at the floor next to the fireplace.

Severus shifted his gaze from the fire to her and nodded absently.

"Alright," was all he stated before finishing his mug. "Winky," he called firmly.

The house elf arrived promptly, but unlike herself she ignored Hermione, obviously aware of the strained situation. Or maybe Pank had already shared what he had witnessed before.

"Go to Miss Granger's quarters and pack some of her favorite Muggle clothes and bring them, fast preferably," he ordered.

Hermione kept her gaze down, swallowed hard at that and resisted the sudden urge to throw herself at his feet and beg him not to send her away. Something inside her had apparently hoped that he would protest. On the other hand, Hermione was well aware that she of all people was a case for a psychiatric ward, a closed one even. Severus as the voice of reason had hit home with her, but the very thought of a mental hospital with doors designed to be locked one-sided and beds probably having manacles attached to them made her start to panic now. Merlin, am I a case for manacles? I won't live through that, her mind babbled. She felt like vomiting, hands, neck and back suddenly became clammy.

Severus had meanwhile left for his bedroom and Hermione started to breathe deeply to calm herself down before this would result in another attack. She had had enough of those for one day. But in a mental ward, she'd need to talk, well no, she would be forced to talk. To strangers, who didn't even know about their parallel world or their war, who wouldn't be able to understand the frame conditions and which she wouldn't be able to explain, because talking about magic, wizards and herself being a witch would definitely label her a case for manacles.

Her mind raced: An adapted story wouldn't work well either, not with all her scars. In the end, it would boil down to still having to explain the inexplicable in order to speak about the unspeakable. Speaking, accepting, forgiving, healing - after all, the idea of the whole therapy concept was something along those lines. Otherwise they'd never let her see the end of it. But to Severus she wouldn't need to explain herself. He was by no means to be considered close to professional with regard to psychology, but he knew, he understood, he sympathized and whatever she would do, he would at least not tackle her or tie her up for her own good and lack of better ways.

She forced her attention back to breathing and fought both panic and bile back, a bit at least. Then you should have said what you wanted. You're a Gryffindor and that's what you're supposed to do. Now deal with it, she chided mentally. Plus, she knew, he had done so much more for her today than anyone would ever have given him credit for, she shouldn't overstrain his good will any longer.

The simultaneous arrival of Winky and Severus brought her back to the business at hand. When Winky handed her suitcase to the Potions master, she distantly realized that he hadn't even bothered asking if she was alright with having a house elf packing her private stuff together. If there was a concession to make regarding incapacitating her, then it was his choice of Winky, which she counted as a gesture of good will. Strange enough, she couldn't bring herself to really care about her degradation. Psychiatric ward, definitely, her mind confirmed.

Hermione motionlessly watched him shrinking her suitcase and putting it into his robe. Suddenly feeling emaciated and beaten, she couldn't bring herself to interact or intervene and all she managed was not breaking down completely.

Regarding her contact-avoiding form, he knew it was time for them both to end this too long day. Whatever was troubling her now, she apparently had no intention of sharing it with him whatsoever.

"Time to go," he said calmly as he came to stand by her armchair offering her his hand. She peeked up at him very shortly with what he thought were puffy eyes and glancing away again she reached for his hand.

"Apparating should be fine seeing that your nerves have calmed down," he firmly told the young woman in front of him, who kept fixedly staring at his chest.

Severus was increasingly exhausted and running out of patience again, both of which giving him a hard time to not go roaring back into teacher mode in the face of her impolite ignorance. His right hand cupped her chin and lifted her face up. Her eyes kept avoiding his, but it became visible that she had indeed been crying again.

"We'll side-along, thus try to relax to reduce the aftermath-," Severus urged. "And-, although no news for you, I'd like you to remember how much I dislike having to repeat myself and that I'd appreciate it if you recalled your manners and let at least some kind of confirmation show, when I address you," he added determinedly when she kept fixedly starring.

When her eyes widened and flew up to his as she processed his message, Severus let go of her chin.

"Of course, si-, everything's a bit too much, I mean no harm, I- I appreciate your patience," she stated apprehensively.

"I know. Which is actually the only reason for your head to still be on your neck and not on my mantelpiece," he teased carefully and nodded towards it. "The currently empty spot between the chandelier and the hourglass is reserved for trophy heads."

This raised a half-smile from Hermione. She enjoyed his humorous side.

"Ready?"

She nodded. "As much as I'll ever be."

At that she found herself encircled in his arms. Having expected to side-along with linked arms, this took her by surprise, but pacified and released some of her tension immediately. Hermione hesitantly dared to put her arms around his waist and when she'd also rested her cheek to his chest, he tightened his embrace carefully. Silently, fresh tears spilled over, ran down Hermione's cheek and were soaked-up by his waistcoat.

A second crack and a new floor under their feet marked their arrival. Point of no return. Hermione unsuccessfully tried to suppress a sob, which gathered Severus' attention and without loosening his embrace he looked down to her.

"Are you alright?" he asked in a gentle voice.

She tightened her arms around him and Severus restrained himself in the last moment from resting his lips on top of her head. This has to stop very soon. Dangerous habit evolving, he reminded himself inwardly, while indulging in the embrace. He could do with some reassuring too.

Hermione was not alright. Swallowing a sob, she pressed herself closer to him. "Please, don't leave me alone with them. They won't understand like you, no one would, but they wouldn't get anything right. They don't know about our world, and I'd be doomed severely delusional and prone to extensive self-harm. They lock doors and still use manacles, Severus please, you can imagine why I can't- I really can't have that," she begged in a panic-fueled voice all the while being ashamed of her angst and starting to tremble. You are pathetic, Granger, she chided.

If possible at all, Severus instinctively tightened his embrace a bit more. He suddenly understood her preceding behavior and felt relief wash over him on apparently being in for all instead of nothing - for now at least. He let his hand brush her hair from her face.

"Shhh- it's all fine," he soothed her. "Look around."

So she did, lifting her head. Turning slightly, she literally gaped at the room she stood in.

Severus was amazed as well and had trouble processing what he saw, although very surely for a very different reason. Convinced that they both could also gape while seated, he navigated her to the sofa where they both settled back into the cushions.

This was his house, the same house he had grown-up in, the same house in which he had suffered from an abusive father and a withdrawn mother, the same house that has mirrored negligence and absence of affection in its pitiful, uninviting condition for as long as he could remember, the same house he had only refrained from selling due to being family property for several generations, protected by ancient powerful wards, which made it nearly undetectable, the same house he had never felt at home in-. The same house-, although this version looked homey and very much so. It was obvious now, why Pank had been so irritatingly enthusiastic before. That elf has an aptitude for interior design! Severus shook his head. Only five minutes ago he'd have taken any bet that it was impossible for this day to get any stranger than sitting in a bubble bath with Hermione Granger practically in his lap.

This officially qualified for his weirdest Christmas ever. And for his emotionally most challenging and reassuring one ever as well.

"Where- where are we?" Hermione asked irritated.

He looked back at her, his own surprise still visible.

"Spinner's End, Manchester."

How helpful. She lifted one inquiring eyebrow at him, which earned her furrowed brows and a snort.

"In my house. I'm relieved to see that your immanent thirst for validation finally won over your lightheaded implicit trust," he amusedly stated.

"It's- so comfy-. Well-, as for my trust: rest assured, it's based on experience and well-deserved," she said in a very heartfelt voice.

Severus was completely taken aback by both message and sincerity and subconsciously held his breath. He could hear that she was not humoring him or talking things up, her whole behavior this night had marked her words' honesty, but he still couldn't quite bring this trust in line with their past. With the fact that he had, irrespective of the reason, not helped her at the party, twice even. Merlin, it had broken his heart, but she didn't know that. How could she trust him at all, let alone implicitly? He didn't deserve that. Rendered speechless, he felt the lump forming in his throat and his heart raced with very rare but right now scarily intense emotions, which literally warmed him in the extreme. In this house! Unthinkable. Forget about Christmas. This qualified for his emotionally most challenging and reassuring time ever. Pull yourself together, fatigue influences your evaluation of events, and now calm down, he mentally chastised himself while clearing his throat.

"Yes, it is," he vaguely confirmed, relieved that his voice was steadier than he'd feared it to be.

At this, Hermione couldn't suppress a small smile. Now she was sure that she had made him uneasy with her statement. He had been silent for at least a minute, but still managed a very Slytherin answer. She would postpone enquiring which parts of her statement exactly he'd just so elaborately confirmed.

"What made you think we'd go to the clinic?"

"I- I practically dismissed you from babysitting me. You ordered Muggle clothing for me."

"We are actually in Muggle Manchester. And, yes, in terms of dismissal, you really went straight for my weakest point. Aren't you proud of me for having mustered the strength to overcome it and do what I judged to be a good decision?" he mocked, rolling his eyes at her when she shortly glanced at him. "You said, you'd rather not go there," Severus added.

"I did say that too," she granted, slightly fidgeting at which he shortly squeezed her hands to make her stop.

"Why would they constrain their patients?"

"Not regularly, I hope at least, just when they're prone to harming, others, themselves, things, well, stuff like that. They have medication for it, but before this kicks in-. And, well-, there is probably nothing really effective for my Crucio seizures and all- and sometimes they're bad. Well, no, they are always bad, but sometimes even worse and- and my nails sometimes draw blood and, ahem- this and - and the reason why I would be there and with all the inexplicable scars may be enough. I don't know for sure of course," her voice trailed off, her arms folded she tried to prevent herself from crying by soothingly rocking forth and back. Hermione locked eyes with the dark man. "They won't understand because they wouldn't believe." She shifted her gaze back to her knees. "You do and you know I'm not delusional and you car- That's why I wanted to stay with you," she added in a whisper.

"I do indeed," Severus simply stated, again unable to come up with something more elaborate. His mind was exhausted.

Hermione smiled at him.

"I need to ask one more question."

He snorted and she rolled her eyes at him.

"One more for now. Why did you bring us here instead of staying at Hogwarts?"

"I gathered a change of scenery for Christmas would do you good." Hermione was baffled. She knew it must have been something along those lines for him to have made this decision, but hearing him admitting it freely, was different. "And since we'd have to talk some things through, some privacy also wouldn't go amiss."

At that he recognized her swallowing on processing the memory of what had made them both come here in the first place.

Hermione also processed his obvious nuance-repertoire of expressing things and how little of it he had ever shown at school. So far, there had been no derogatively reminding undertone, just a plain declaration. No fearful teacher persona audible. Should that one return full-force, he'll never let me see the end of it. Merlin, detentions will resemble one of hell's deeper circles with all the ammo I've provided already and probably still will, she pondered, while mentally face-palming herself for having brought herself in this situation. Although, granted, this night's turn of events hadn't been foreseeable for anyone. Having to smile at the memories of his concerned caresses and the unbelievable lavender-bubble-bath scenario, she looked back at him.

"That was very thoughtful of you. I thank you," she said with honest appreciation in her voice. "I know, I'm repeating myself, but it's comfy," she continued.

"And worn," Severus added

She chuckled.

"Nice try, but that only adds to the snugness. I really like it here. You did seem surprised by it before," she half-asked.

"Well spotted," he nodded. "This used to be the most forbidding house. I have never- liked it here and have never cared. Actually, no one I have known has ever cared." This time his voice trailed off.

Hermione, hearing the mournfulness in it, suddenly became aware that Severus had left another comfort tonight zone by bringing them here. But instead of guilt, it was a tinge of satisfaction she felt, because the scenery somehow seemed to have rewarded him for this step. Not once in the minutes since their arrival had he tried to substitute his emotion for feigned indifference again.

Severus had meanwhile gathered himself.

"It took an enthusiastic house elf and one hour to make it livable," he chuckled unbelievingly.

"Goodness, that's why Pank had practically beamed with elation before-," Hermione joint into his chuckling and suddenly felt relaxed. "He had finally gotten the chance to live out his talent. He deserves a treat for this," she added and Severus nodded amusedly at her.

"We'll think of something. But for now, you'll help yourself to some of those cookies, you must be starving by now. I'll go upstairs to have a look at the magic Pank hopefully worked with the bedrooms. It's past one already." On getting up, he handed her the plate from the table.

"Thanks! But I can come along and help-," Hermione offered, already moving.

"No, you stay put and eat. I won't be long and I'm on shouting distance," he emphasized and Hermione nodded obediently, slightly relieved for the opportunity to give in to her overall fatigue.

.o.O.o.

No, this was not a dream, but real sickness. Hermione's eyes flew open and stared at a crackling hearth in a faintly familiar living room with a Christmas tree decorated with emerald-silver and scarlet-golden ornaments. Struggling away the blanket she couldn't remember to have helped herself to, she feverishly tried to remember where the bathroom was while getting up from the sofa-, but it was too late. Her knees buckling and forcing her on all fours, she vomited on the carpet in front of the sofa- Severus' carpet in front of Severus' sofa, it occurred to her. Merlin, let him sleep through this until I've cleaned up the mess, she silently prayed as another convulsion hit her and she gave in to it. What else to do, it wasn't as if she had a choice. It's too bad about the cookies, she reflected, absurdly so. Leaning against the sofa, Hermione took a moment to feel inside herself and check if a full panic attack was about to follow. When she couldn't find any signs, she sighed with relief given her extreme tiredness and still aching muscles before managing to get up and into the kitchen.

It was old, real 1950's vintage and well-used. She spontaneously fell in love with the solid natural wooden dining table and let her hands slide over its stained surface. It could do with some sandpapering and oiling.

"You served patiently all your life, huh? Surely you don't deserve this neglect. I'll see to you come the chance," she promised the table lowly-voiced.

Focusing back on the cleaning task at hand, she looked for a bucket and a cloth and was surprised to actually find both in a wizard's house. The water-tap startled her with the characteristic gurgling and spitting noises found in old plumbing when out of use for some time. She hoped that Severus would be very fast asleep.

After five minutes of scrubbing she was interrupted by a voice coming from the doorframe.

"I knew you are keen on getting things done, but starting with detentions by scrubbing a carpet in the wee hours of Boxing Day is overdoing it-, even for you, Miss Granger."

Hermione continued cleaning the carpet in slow circles.

"Before judging said Miss Granger overambitious, it would be wise contemplating that this otherwise bright young woman, did not only entirely inexplicably start at an obviously absurd day, time and place, but also, and above all, unsupervised. Thus, I'd render it highly recommendable to investigate the detention-administration skills of the professor in charge before jumping to any conclusion, sir." She had slept a little and her brain worked again.

Severus laughed at that and at the strange sound she sat down on her heels and stared at him. It was a heartfelt laugh from the sleep-tousled and barefooted man in black pajama pants and a white T-Shirt. Suddenly Hermione couldn't help, but to relax at this unexpected sight of the normally restrained, accurately clad teacher. She smiled at the still present laughter and his homey appearance. When she wanted to return to her cleaning, Severus, still chuckling, magically cleaned the carpet and Evanescoed the water.

Shortly stopping at another intimate gesture, Hermione gladly took the helping hand he offered and got to her feet.

"Go to the bathroom upstairs, second door on the right. I take care of tea and storing everything," he said good-naturedly and thankfully squeezing his hand, she made her way upstairs.

On her return she found a mug with herbal tea and honey waiting for her on the coffee table, which she gratefully took before settling back onto the sofa. Severus entered from the kitchen with his own mug and arched a questioning eyebrow at her astonished look.

"I thought you had returned to bed already. I'm sorry for having woken you and I thank you very much for tea and cleaning," Hermione said with an apologetic smile at which Severus managed to arch his eyebrow even further.

"Don't be ridiculous. Until your core is stronger again, you may wake me for the- dirty work."

At that she chuckled. "Due to my Muggle upbringing, I'm perfectly capable of doing such mundane tasks with my hands and will certainly refrain from bothering you. But I shall remember your offer come the need to dispose of-,say-, body parts," she said.

"Always at your service, Ma'am," he offered diligently and Hermione's chuckling turned into a laugh.

"Without questioning whom I'd want to slaughter?" she asked with feigned indignation.

Shrugging his shoulders, he looked at her and grinned. "Since you're overly forgiving, I'm convinced that whoever would be on this particular receiving end surely had it coming. I trust your good judgment on that- implicitly," he answered airily while finishing his tea and taking hers from her hand and gesturing her to follow him upstairs.

There were two bedrooms opposite each other and the bathroom Hermione had used before. The notion that she was indeed standing in a bedroom with her most disputable Potions master in the middle of the night as the crowning of an emotionally and physically most straining and socially topsy-turvy day, had distracted her from whatever Severus had just explained to her.

"Hermione?" he asked and saw how she returned to reality.

"Sorry, I just got overwhelmed. Could I just ask tomorrow if I don't know how to proceed?"

"Asking to be allowed to ask questions – the times they're changing," he rolled his eyes at her, but in visible goodwill. He placed the mug back into her hand. "Go to bed. My room is not warded. Should something be amiss, don't hesitate to knock. I see you at breakfast," he bid her goodnight.

"Si-, when am I supposed to be downstairs?" she asked mentally face-palming herself for not having listened.

"Whenever you feel well-rested and hungry enough to leave your bed. Surely not before ten or- better eleven given the time now. Don't worry about me," he said good-naturedly and quietly closed the door behind him.