In the following days, Hermione felt increasingly isolated. She was reluctant to speak with Ron, which meant Harry remained by his side and not hers. She hoped for an apology from Ron, but she saw no signs of that happening. Ron was firm in his belief that he had done nothing wrong, insisting he was only offering a solution. Frustrated beyond measure, Hermione refused to sit with them in potions class and ended up beside Neville, visibly shaking like a leaf.
Hermione smiled warmly at Neville, her eyes reflecting reassurance. "Good afternoon, Neville. How are you feeling today?"
Neville returned the smile weakly, his apprehension apparent in his demeanor. "Hello, Hermione. I'm doing alright but I feel nervous about potions today."
"Neville, all you need is confidence," Hermione replied, her voice brimming with encouragement. "I believe in you."
Before Hermione could say anything more, Professor Snape entered the classroom, his black robes billowing behind him. The atmosphere in the room instantly became tense as students straightened up in their seats, preparing for the lesson ahead. With a stern expression, Professor Snape made his way to the front of the class, his gaze sweeping over each student in turn. The rustle of parchment and the clinking of glass vials filled the air as students hurriedly prepared for the lesson to begin.
"Today, you will have ninety minutes to brew the Wound-Cleaning potion correctly," Professor Snape instructed, his voice cutting through the silence of the classroom like a whip. His sharp gaze surveyed the room, daring any student to challenge his authority. "You may begin." With that command, the sound of cauldrons bubbling and students whispering instructions to one another filled the room as they set to work on the challenging potion.
Hermione immediately immersed herself in her work, eager to demonstrate her skill to her professor. With precision, she meticulously measured and cut each ingredient, following the instructions she had received from Professor Snape two days prior. As she focused intently on her task, she couldn't help but notice Neville's struggles nearby, his movements hesitant and uncertain as he attempted to complete the potion.
Initially, Hermione suppressed the urge to intervene, acutely aware that assisting Neville could land her in trouble with Professor Snape. However, as the class progressed, her concern for Neville's success grew stronger. With a hesitant glance towards Snape's desk, Hermione cautiously peered at Neville's cauldron. Upon inspection, she noted that the potion's color was incorrect and its consistency too thick, indicating that Neville was indeed struggling to brew it correctly.
Hermione assessed the situation and recognized the necessary adjustments. With a quick glance toward Professor Snape, who was occupied at the other end of the classroom, she confirmed that her actions would likely go unnoticed. Turning back to Neville, she leaned in close and whispered almost inaudibly, "Add more moon essence."
Observing Neville's nervous demeanor, Hermione maintained a watchful gaze as he added another spoonful of moon essence. Once he complied, she nodded in approval before whispering again, her voice barely audible amidst the bustling of the classroom, "Now, turn it counterclockwise."
As Neville neared completion of his potion, a sudden ominous presence loomed over their table. Hermione's heart skipped a beat as she nervously glanced up, meeting the stern gaze of Professor Snape, who stood before them with a formidable expression.
Hermione fought the urge to fidget or squirm as she faced Professor Snape's intense scrutiny. With a sinking feeling, she realized that her attempt to assist Neville hadn't gone unnoticed. The disapproval in Snape's silence spoke volumes, conveying his clear displeasure with her actions without the need for words.
Hermione held her breath, bracing herself for the anticipated reprimand and the inevitable loss of house points. However, to her surprise, Professor Snape moved on to the next table without uttering a word of admonishment. Her initial sense of relief was short-lived, shattered by his directive delivered in his characteristic tone, "I want you to stay after class."
Resolute not to risk further displeasure from Professor Snape, Hermione clenched her hands tightly in her lap, fighting the urge to glance nervously in his direction. She kept her focus on her desk, her mind racing with thoughts of what awaited her after class. As the lesson drew to a close and her classmates began to file out of the room, she remained obediently seated, her heart pounding with apprehension as she waited for Professor Snape's attention.
Before he could speak, Hermione preemptively addressed the issue, her voice tinged with a mixture of regret and curiosity. "I'm sorry for helping him. I know he needs to learn on his own." After her apology, she couldn't help but voice the nagging question that had lingered since Snape's decision not to reprimand her earlier. "Why didn't you give me detention or take away points?" Her eyes flickered with uncertainty, awaiting his response with a mix of apprehension and curiosity.
Professor Snape leaned back in his chair, the flickering candlelight casting deep shadows across his features, making his expression unreadable. "I thought about it," he began, his voice low and measured, each word carrying a weight of deliberation. "But what good would detention do if you already live with me?" His gaze pierced through the dimly lit room, fixing upon Hermione with an intensity that made her feel uncomfortably exposed. "Besides," he continued, a faint hint of exasperation coloring his tone, "you'll just find a way to help him again another day." The subtle inflection in his voice hinted at a begrudging acknowledgment of Hermione's persistent nature, as if begrudgingly admiring her tenacity despite his outward disapproval.
Hermione's gaze remained fixed on her desk, her heart heavy with guilt, as she struggled to find the right words to express her remorse. The silence was heavy in the air, broken only by the faint rustle of parchment. Finally, she mustered the courage to speak, her voice barely above a whisper, tinged with genuine contrition. "I'm sorry," she repeated, the words heavy with sincerity, each syllable laden with the weight of her regret.
Professor Snape simply shrugged and remarked, "You are who you are. Mr. Longbottom will have to learn to do his assignments on his own. Just as you need to learn to refrain from doing everything for everybody."
The weight of his observation settled heavily upon Hermione's shoulders. She felt a pang of guilt at the truth in his statement, knowing deep down that she often took on more than she could handle in her quest to help others. His words stung, a stark reminder of her tendency to shoulder the burdens of those around her, even at the expense of her own well-being. Yet, amidst the sting of his reproach, there was also a sense of begrudging acceptance, as if Snape, in his own way, acknowledged her flaws while challenging her to overcome them. It was a sobering moment of reflection, one that left Hermione acutely aware of the need to strike a balance between her desire to assist others and the importance of prioritizing her own needs.
Hermione continued to frown at his remark. While she acknowledged the truth in his words, she also felt compelled to defend herself. She knew she took on far too much, but she was driven by a fierce determination to support her friends and ensure their success. She bristled at the implication that she was trying to do everything when her actions stemmed from a place of loyalty and concern for those closest to her.
"I'm not trying to do everything," she muttered softly, her voice tinged with a sense of vulnerability. Despite her attempts to defend herself, Hermione couldn't shake the nagging feeling that Snape's words held a kernel of truth, prompting her to question the balance she sought to strike between helping others and safeguarding her own well-being.
"But you do," Professor Snape insisted, his tone firm yet tinged with a hint of sympathy. "Throughout your schooling, you've burdened yourself excessively. You can't save everyone. Remember, you're only one person."
As Snape spoke, his words carried a weight of experience and understanding, reflecting his own struggles with the pressures of responsibility. He knew all too well the toll that attempting to shoulder the world's problems could take on a person, and he hoped to impart some wisdom gleaned from his own trials to Hermione.
Hermione wanted to argue further, but she found herself unexpectedly moved by the fact that he seemed to care about the pressure she was under. "How do you become indifferent to everything?" she asked, her tone filled with genuine curiosity.
It was a question born out of a desire to understand, to unravel the enigma that was Snape's stoicism in the face of adversity. No matter the circumstances, he always kept his emotions to himself and never allowed them to run free. She hoped his answer might offer some insight, perhaps even a glimmer of guidance in navigating her own emotions.
"It's easy when you have been forced to the last 20 years," he responded solemnly, his voice carrying a weight of experience.
His words hinted at a lifetime of trials and tribulations, suggesting a journey marked by hardship and sacrifice. Hermione couldn't help but wonder what events had shaped him into the guarded, inscrutable figure he was today.
Hermione took a deep breath, her nerves buzzing with anticipation. "Will you teach me?" she blurted out, her voice quivering with a mixture of anxiety and determination.
Professor Snape cocked an eyebrow, a hint of intrigue flashing across his features. "Teach you what?" he inquired, his tone laced with curiosity, his dark eyes fixed on Hermione's face.
Hermione's smile was nervous yet determined. "Occlumency," she replied, her eyes locking onto his, waiting anxiously for his response.
"Do you understand how difficult this particular area of magic is?" Professor Snape asked, his tone laced with annoyance, his expression hardened.
Hermione felt a surge of anger at his dismissive attitude. She rose from her seat at the desk, her voice firm. "I am not Harry. I know I can do it. Please," she pleaded, her eyes imploring. "I promise I will listen and work hard." Her determination was evident in every word she spoke.
Professor Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. Reluctantly, he looked back up at her and grumbled, "Fine, but keep in mind this will not be easy nor will it be enjoyable. To perfect it could take months, maybe even a full year, so don't get your hopes up."
Hermione instantly felt giddy at the prospect of being allowed to learn a new area of magic. She was nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet with excitement.
"As a reminder, I am not a patient teacher, so I wouldn't be so excited if I were you," Professor Snape warned, his tone carrying a hint of seriousness.
Hermione's excitement remained undiminished by his warning. "I already know that. I've seen you teach for the last seven years. I know what I'm getting into," she replied confidently.
"Fine, if you want to be so insistent on learning it then follow me," Professor Snape replied, his tone resigned. He stood up from his desk and motioned for her to follow him back to their rooms. Once they went through the portrait hole, he continued to his study where he grabbed two heavy tomes.
"Here," he handed her one of the books with a gray cover, "is a guide on Occlumency to help you prepare for what lies ahead." Then, he passed her a second book with a red cover. "This is another book to aid you in countering Legilimency. Before we proceed with any practical lessons, I want you to read both thoroughly. Once you've finished, we can revisit the topic."
Hermione eagerly hugged the books to her chest, her excitement palpable. She noticed him rolling his eyes slightly at her enthusiasm. "What? You can give me a book on any topic and I will absorb every word," she exclaimed, unable to contain her eagerness to delve into the new material. She glanced over his shoulder at the abundant bookshelves. "Seems like I'm not the only one who likes to read," she remarked with a smile.
"I don't feel the need to brag about it though," he retorted dryly, a hint of amusement in his tone. "I think I've kept you long enough. Go find your friends, enjoy your dinner, and then come find me later. We'll talk more," he said, gesturing for her to leave.
Reluctantly, Hermione obeyed, depositing the books into her school bag before leaving her quarters in search of her friends.
Hermione mechanically chewed her food, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of how her upcoming occlumency lessons with Professor Snape would go. The clinking of cutlery and chatter around her seemed distant as she mentally rehearsed the techniques she had read about in the books he had given her. She had only read a couple of chapters, but she was determined to practice tirelessly at it. Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice when Harry gently nudged her shoulder. Startled, she looked up from her plate and met Harry's piercing green eyes, realizing he had been trying to get her attention.
"You've been abnormally quiet. Did the greasy git give you detention?" Harry asked, a hint of concern in his voice.
Harry's concern was evident in his voice as he leaned in slightly, waiting for Hermione's response. Her frustration with his persistent probing was clear as she furrowed her brow in annoyance before responding. "Will you give it a rest already?" she snapped, her irritation palpable. "And for your information, no, I did not get detention."
Harry's shrug indicated his acceptance of her answer, but his concern lingered as he pressed on. "Then what's got you so unsettled?" he inquired, his gaze fixed on her with genuine curiosity.
Hermione paused, her fork suspended mid-air as she contemplated whether to share her newfound ambition with Harry. After a moment of hesitation, she let out a reluctant sigh and confessed, "I want to learn Occlumency, and Professor Snape agreed to teach me." She watched Harry closely, gauging his reaction.
Harry winced, memories of his own tumultuous experiences with Occlumency flooding back. The aggressive invasion of Professor Snape into his mind during his fifth year had left him shaken and scarred. "Are you sure you want to do that?" Harry asked, his tone tinged with warning as he recalled the painful and relentless nature of Snape's training sessions.
Hermione reached out and gently squeezed Harry's hand, conveying both gratitude for his concern and reassurance in her decision. "Harry, I appreciate your concern," she began, her voice warm yet resolute, "but I know what I'm getting into. I've seen how Professor Snape operates, and I understand that he's a relentless instructor. I know he won't be easy on me, but I want to give it a shot." Her eyes met Harry's, reflecting her unwavering determination despite his warning.
Harry shook his head in amusement. "What's the reason you want to learn Occlumency anyway?" he asked, genuinely curious about her motivation.
Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her gaze drifting away from Harry as she spoke. "Professor Snape says that I try so hard to help everyone," she began, her voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "We got into a conversation about how he's so indifferent. I want to get to the point where I'm able to clear my mind from unnecessary stress," she explained, her words carrying a weight of determination and introspection.
"There's nothing wrong with wanting to be helpful," Harry pointed out.
Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "I know, but he's got a point. I've always done too much and allowed myself to get overwhelmed by everything," she admitted, her tone reflective. "I'm not saying I don't want to help people, but I do want to be more focused on myself," she concluded, emphasizing her desire for self-improvement and balance.
"Well, I'll be here if you need me. I want to be more understanding, but it's hard. I mean... we are talking about Snape, you know?" Harry explained, his tone tinged with skepticism and a hint of humor.
"Oh, trust me, I know exactly what you mean. I still struggle to see him as anything but my Professor. I hope that eventually goes away," Hermione admitted quietly. "I want to get to know him more, but..." She trailed off, embarrassed by her admission, unsure of how to articulate her feelings about her complicated relationship with Professor Snape.
Since their wedding night, Professor Snape hadn't initiated any physical contact with Hermione, and this lack of intimacy began to weigh heavily on her mind. The stark contrast between his professional demeanor and their marital bond left her feeling unsettled. Despite being legally wedded, their interactions felt distant and formal, devoid of the warmth one might expect from a spouse. As she twirled the ring on her finger, Hermione couldn't shake the feeling of longing for a deeper connection with him. She yearned to bridge the gap between them, to understand the man behind the façade of sternness and reserve.
Hermione was startled by the sudden jolt of electricity that seemed to surge through her fingertips as she touched the ring, sending a shiver down her spine. Quickly retracting her hand, she stared down at her fingers in confusion, bewildered by the unexpected sensation. The ring felt almost alive beneath her touch, pulsating with an energy she couldn't quite comprehend.
Glancing up at the Head Table, she noticed Professor Snape already gazing back at her, his dark eyes piercing through the distance with an intensity that made her uneasy. His expression was as inscrutable as ever, but there was a faint hint of annoyance in his features, as if he too had felt the strange sensation and was displeased by it. Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to this exchange than met the eye, but she pushed the thought aside, chalking it up to her own imagination.
Looking away from him, Hermione resisted the urge to touch the ring again. Instead, she focused on her meal, though a brief pang of sadness lingered in the back of her mind. The distant yet palpable tension between her and Severus weighed on her, reminding her of the unspoken barriers that seemed to divide them despite their marital bond.