1998, September 5th
She hasn't spoken to Ron all week.
After Snape left the common room Wednesday morning, she waited twenty minutes for Ron to come down from the boy's dormitories. He knew they had rounds that morning, she gave him a copy of the schedule. Wednesday, Thursdays, and Saturdays were their days to do morning rounds together. She even reminded him before he and Harry went to bed the night before.
"Sure yeah, I remember." He had said, sending her a goofy smile before waving her goodnight.
She doesn't know why she bothered half the time. No one ever went by any of the schedules she made out for them. She was beginning to think it was a bad idea applying for the position of Headboy for him this past summer. He made it seem that it was something he's always wanted and yet he didn't want to take it seriously.
She thought that with their shared responsibilities of Headboy and Headgirl, they could finally get a few moments alone. And yes, she knew he wanted to wait until after they graduated to start anything serious, but that didn't mean they couldn't get to know each other without the constant presence of Harry to act as a buffer.
Unfortunately, he never came down and she had to send Harry up after he returned from his morning drill with Ginny on the quidditch pitch.
"Where's Ron?" Harry asked as soon as he entered through the portrait hole. His hair was wet with sweat and he had a new bruise on his elbow.
"He hasn't come down yet." Hermione sighed, closing her book to look down at her watch, "Our rounds start in three minutes."
Harry rolled his eyes, "He stayed up late last night staring at Snapes curtain."
"Why?" Hermione asked with a look of confusion.
"He still doesn't trust him." Harry said, making his way towards the stairs.
Hermione groaned, "Can you send him down?"
"Yea, you want me to give him a nice chewing?" Harry asked with a twinkle in his eye.
She smiled and huffed a laugh, "Please do."
Three minutes later Ron came stumbling down the stairs with his uniform in disarray and his hair standing in different directions. She didn't know if she felt more annoyed or disappointed.
She gave her wand an annoyed flick towards his appearance and watched as the spell tucked in his shirt and righted his tie.
"I was going to do that." Ron grumbled, tugging at his collar.
"You're late. Now we're both late. Let's go." She said stiffly, pushing past him.
She didn't wait for him, instead she exited the portrait hole and began walking down the stairs towards the main entrance, where their rounds began.
"Are you mad at me or something?" Ron asked, panting while he tried to keep up with her breakneck pace. He'd spend the summer lounging about the Burrow and Headquarters while Harry ran drills with Ginny for the upcoming season. He was paying for that laziness now.
"Why would I ever be mad at you Ron, after all you were on time this morning and ready to go when I told you to be ready and you're definitely taking your role as Headboy so seriously." She said sarcastically, quickening her pace.
"Can you slow down!" He panted, tugging on her arm.
She swiveled around to face him but didn't meet his eyes, instead she crossed her arms over her chest.
"You don't have to be like that, I was up late last night, cut me some slack." Ron said with a lopsided grin, "I mean no one gets up this early anyway."
She huffed a humorless laugh, "People do get up early Ronald. Harry and Ginny have already finished their drills, Snape left the common room half an hour ago and we passed several Ravenclaws on their way to the Library. Just because you don't get up early doesn't mean the rest of the world doesn't."
"I don't want to get up early. I thought being Headboy meant no one telling me what to do, not, having so many responsibilities." He frowned. "I don't want to spend my last year at school working, there are plenty of other things more worth our time."
"Why did you even accept the position if you're going to continuously complain about it?" Hermione said, "This is what I want to do. If you don't then vacate the position so someone else who actually wants it can have it."
"You're the only one who gives a damn, why don't you take both positions." He yanked the Headboy clip off of his robes, ripping it, and slammed it down into her hand, forcing her to close her hand around the small clip. "I'll go tell the Headmistress I don't want it anymore."
"Fine!" She exclaimed at his back as he stomped away.
Hermione stood there, her emotions tumultuous within. The echoes of their altercation lingered in the air, as she remained there by her lonesome. The weight of disappointment settled heavily upon her shoulders.
In that moment, a part of her felt compelled to run after him and make amends. However, another part, tinged with righteous indignation, urged her to not capitulate to his whims. Ron's indifference towards the responsibility of being Head Boy was a jolt to Hermione's expectations. She hadn't anticipated his inability to take it seriously. It was a stark reminder that not everyone shared her values of dutifulness, a realization that left her both disappointed and frustrated.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
Hermione looked up, and removed her palm from where she had it propped against her weary head. Snape stood over her, his dark hair following over his eyes darkening the shadows that were ever present beneath them. He had a haul of books wrapped under one arm and a satchel bag thrown over the other. She didn't oogle him, not wanting to seem like every other student he came across in the last few days. Her shock over his circumstances and him joining their house had been short lived since she had so many other things to worry about. Though it was odd seeing the infamous Head of Slytherin adorned in Gryffindor colors. It was Saturday, why was he wearing his uniform anyway?
"That's a muggle term." She replied, slamming her Potions textbook closed with a sigh.
"I'm aware." He said, setting his books down on the desk beside him, ink stains coated his long fingers.
She let out a huff of air and pushed back the small wisps of hair that escaped her messy bun. "I'm trying to write the Potions essay, but I can't seem to find the last ingredient for the standard truth serum, the last three books I've read only reference a few steps."
"Try Potions: The Age of Grindelwald." He advised, sliding said book from the top of his pile towards her.
She peered down at it, then noticed the title glint in the candlelight, before grabbing it, "Thanks."
She glanced at him while she opened the text to its table of contents. "What are you doing in the Library on a Saturday, I thought you'd be chaperoning the Hogsmeade trip."
"I traded that pleasure with Sprout this evening so I could finish a few assignments." He explained, his expression neutral. He seemed uncomfortable, fidgeting where he stood, "Do you mind if I sit down, the entire Library is staring."
Hermione looked up, meeting several Ravenclaws' eyes from across the room. They quickly looked away upon being caught and went back to their own studies. She nodded, "Sure."
He pulled out the chair across from her, cringing as its legs squealed slightly against the tiled floor with the force, then he sat down gracefully and began unpacking his parchment from his satchel.
She gazed at him as the light of the setting sun slanted in, casting him in an almost golden glow. His dark hair framed the angular planes of his face, accentuating his high cheekbones and sharp jaw. And his eyes—his once piercing dark eyes—retained an air of mystery, but now they appeared weary, tinged with a glimmer of vulnerability. It was an expression she rarely saw on him. What a difference 20 years of aging made. Got were the faint wrinkles that she had become accustomed to seeing between his brows, even his skin was smoother, less leathery from years of standing over a cauldron. One thing that didn't seem to change was that ever present scowl he never removed from his face.
The room had fallen silent, filled with only the flipping of pages and the occasional scratch of Snape's quill. It was almost as if the atmosphere itself had grown curious about their interaction. She noticed he had a habit of biting the tip of his quill, and he seemed to fidget in his seat a lot. She doesn't remember him ever moving very much as their Professor, usually once he sat down he was as stiff as a statue. Perhaps this was what he was like as a teenager, he probably regained old habits upon being de-aged. The curiosity about how he came about being younger was eating at her, she was itching to ask him so many questions.
"So..." She began, "Potions: The Age of Grindelwald. Seems quite rare. Is this from your own collection?"
Snape flicked his dark eyes up to meet hers, his brow twitching slightly, as if gauging whether he should give her that information. For a moment, his silence hung heavy between them, but eventually, he gave a slight nod, acknowledging her observation.
"It is," He replied simply, his voice barely above a murmur. "A collector's item." He ran his fingertips almost reverently down the pages of the book in front of him.
"It must have cost a fortune." Hermione remarked, curiosity piqued. "How did you come into possession of such an antiquity?"
The shadows deepened as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the library into semi-darkness. Snape's gaze remained fixed on the aged parchment, his fingers tracing the faded ink with a delicacy that hinted at familiarity.
"It was a...gift." He paused briefly, as if weighing whether to divulge further. "My mothers family had a very extensive collection of rarities. She gave it to me at my fathers funeral when I was," He paused as if contemplating his words, "A boy."
Hermione's heart swelled with curiosity as Snape opened up about his past, sharing tidbits seldom told. She sat in rapt attention, absorbing every word, etching each revelation into memory. She wanted to ask more, to delve deeper into the enigma that was Severus Snape. But, fearing to extinguish the delicate flame of communication, she chose against pressing further for the moment.
"It's a loan, Granger, I'd like it back after you finish your report." He said, eyeing her small smile.
"Of course." She said, then slid her finger down the table of contents to find what she was looking for.
"And don't dog ear it, if I find so much as a small wrinkle to a page I will never loan you another book." He said, clenching his jaw.
Hermione feigned a shocked gasp, placing a hand over her heart to add to her display, "I would never."
"Good." He said simply, eyeing her movement as she turned the pages.
She quickly changed the subject, "The Headmistress notified me of your promotion to Headboy."
Snape stiffened, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Did she now?" he replied coolly. "I trust you're not pleased with the arrangement?"
He looked at her with barely veiled distrust, his gaze challenging her to disagree with him. Hermione met his stare without flinching, her curiosity piqued further by his reaction.
"Quite the contrary, you're a much better fit than Ron," She said, surprising herself with her candor. "I didn't think you'd be interested in accepting a role that involved so much …" She paused, searching for the right word, "socializing."
Snape's lips twitched slightly, a glimmer of amusement crossing his face. "You mistake my acceptance for eagerness," He replied, his voice laced with a faint air of irony. The flicker of warmth in his eyes, however, betrayed a hint of genuine pleasure at her unexpected approval. "I assure you, the socialization aspect holds little appeal."
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on her. "Why did the Prince of Gryffindor vacate the position? Minerva didn't say."
Hermione's expression darkened, the memory of their argument still vivid in her mind.
"He had no interest in being Headboy." She answered, shifting in her chair. "He's taken a fancy to being irresponsible this year I suppose."
She grimaced at her own words, inwardly wincing. How childish she must have sounded.
"A familiar fancy he must have." He said, crossing his arms with a bemused smirk.
"I mean… he just wanted to focus on Quidditch, you know how it is." Her voice faltered, betraying her inner conflict about this particular subject. Snape had noticed, and she flushed, looking away.
"Hmm." Snape gave a noncommittal grunt, his keen eyes studying her thoughtfully. Hermione shifted in her chair with embarrassment, her face heating under his intense gaze. She wished she could melt into the cushions and vanish. It was bad enough to argue with Ron, but now she was talking to Snape about him, of all people. She had a feeling, judging by Snape's silence, that he understood the real reason for Ron's disinterest in the position.
She fidgeted with a loose thread on her jumper, feeling the weight of Snape's expectant silence pressing down on her. The air in the library seemed thick with unasked questions, and Hermione couldn't stand it any longer.
"Weasley finds even the simplest tasks daunting, I'm surprised he lasted as long as he did." Snape said suddenly, and leaned forward in his seat, then unraveled a rolled parchment littered with his spiraling handwriting she had become very familiar with.
Hermione let out a chuckle and covered her mouth.
He curled an eyebrow at her.
"He didn't even last a day." She said with a breathy laugh.
"As I expected." He said.
She laughed once more, causing several students to turn and give them shocked, confused looks. What a sight it must have been, to see the now deaged Severus Snape bring Hermione Granger to tears laughing.
His lips pulled into a subtle satisfied grin.
She glanced around discreetly, noticing some of the curious eyes still fixed on them, and she felt a small twinge of discomfort. With a sinking feeling, she wondered if perhaps she should remove herself. The idea of leaving Snape to face the scrutiny alone, however, felt almost cruel. Besides, she genuinely did enjoy his company, at least when he wasn't being so bitter.
She glared at a passerby with a level of contempt so high, they quickly looked away. After a few moments of companionable silence, she pulled the Head Boy pin out of her jeans pocket and pushed it across the table to him.
"You may need this." She said, and watched as he picked it up and looked at it for a moment.
"Thank you." He said, then pinned it to his robes before continuing his work.
He didn't expect the Hogsmeade hoard back until at least 8:00 p.m. Seventh years were granted later curfews on the weekends which he used to loathe, since he was usually the one who had to escort them, but now he felt it was a blessing. He spent the entire day with the absence of trying presences, it was quite peaceful. Even the couple of hours he spent with Granger in the Library wasn't at all as unpleasant as he thought it may be. He didn't go to the Library to specifically seek her out, but unfortunately the wandering eyes became too much while he was sitting alone. He needed someone to take the attention off of him and it seemed to work. Not thirty minutes after sitting down next to her, the attention he was beginning to become accustomed to hating, went away. Granger explained that people had learned to leave her alone while she studied. He thought that with his reputation the same courtesy would be given to him but no such luck. Even his glare was no longer as effective. He supposed it was because curiosity did indeed kill the cat. Why else would students be so stupid as to gawk at him?
Choosing to take advantage of his empty dormitory, he ripped open the parcel he ordered from Diagon Alley. He had chosen to rebuy most of his casual wear since the majority of his old clothing didn't fit and he wasn't about to spend the next two weeks transfiguring them to the correct size. And being that he didn't want to stick out like a sore thumb amongst the others he now shared a school year with, he chose neutral colored clothing from a small shop in central London. Jeans, jumpers, flannels. All things he has seen worn by his peers in the past. He never thought in all his years that he would ever be seen flipping through a catalog, but there he was, opening the evidence of it. It arrived just as he was entering the dormitory. His dark black owl he named Frank, pecking unforgivingly at the window next to his bed, standing on one large box.
Just as he began buttoning the dark gray flannel he chose to wear for that evening, the door to the dormitory opened and his dorm mates poured into the room with chatter loud enough to rattle the frames off the walls.
They all eyed him as they entered with the same gawking looks they usually gave him, but continued on their way to their respective beds. It was Weasley who stopped in his tracks and gaped like a fish out of water.
"You may want to close your mouth, you may attract a dung beetle." Snape said to Weasley, who slammed his mouth shut.
Weasleys face grew red, his eyes falling over Snape's slender form.
"What are you wearing?" Weasley asked, "You look like- well- shouldn't you be wearing all black, I thought that was your default color."
"Ah, Mr. Weasley," Snape drawled, a sardonic smile playing at the corner of his lips. "I suppose I must count my blessings that it is merely my attire that has rattled your feeble mind and not a more simple concept to grasp. If you find it so difficult to accept the mere sight of a different color, perhaps you should focus on the academic excellence and loyalty that defines this house, rather than the trivialities that clearly overwhelm your limited intellect."
Potter moved to stand in front of Weasley quickly averting his attention and patted his shoulder, "Come now Ron, put your things down. You said you wanted to speak to Hermione before dinner, now's your chance."
Who knew Potter knew how to defuse an explosive situation? In all honesty, Severus just wanted to see how far he could push Weasley before he'd explode.
Weasley sent him one last glare then tossed his bag onto his bed, allowing its contents to spill over the edge onto the floor, he turned his back and grumbled under his breath about someone's nerve.
Potter sent Snape an almost apologetic glance while nearly shoving Weasley out of the room.
"You'd give him a heart attack just by standing near his bed when we come back up tonight." Longbottom laughed, with a shake of his head.
"Does Weaslys naivety know no bounds?" Snape mumbled, then shoved his socked feet into his black boots.
"I guess we'll see as the year goes on." Thomas chuckled, then exchanged a look with Finnagan who laughed at his jest.
From one corner to the next, the common room was bustling with energy and chatter. Dinner was starting soon, so the traffic in and out of the dormitories was constant. Hermione was surprised she found a spot on the sofa, free, but she was grateful for it. She needed to finish reading the next chapter in the book Snape lent her before she went down to dinner or she wouldn't be able to eat. She's barely put it down since he gave it to her three hours ago. She was nearly at the halfway mark.
"So." Ginny dragged, then threw herself over the back of the sofa right next to Hermione, "Harry said you're mad at Ron."
"When am I not mad at Ronald?" Hermione said without looking up from the book Snape so graciously lent her.
"Fair point." Ginny said. After a few moments of prolonged silence, "What did he do this time?"
Hermione sighed and closed her book. "He vacated the Headboy position on the first day of school."
Ginny frowned, "Yea Harry told me. Did he say why? I thought he wanted to be Headboy."
Hermione pulled her satchel into her lap and gently placed Snape's book with her others. "He didn't like having to get up early for rounds."
"Sounds like Ron." Ginny said, studying her friend with a curious expression.
Hermione avoided her gaze, choosing instead to watch a second year across the room open an envelope. It had been so long since she heard any news from Kingsley. He approached her a few weeks after she arrived at the Burrow with Harry and Ron, offering his aid in her search for her parents. Apparently he had friends from the Wizarding Society of Australia who knew the area well. She would have to write to him again before the weekend was over.
Ginny followed her line of sight and sighed. "No news yet?"
"No, but I'm writing to him tomorrow." Hermione adjusted herself in her seat and turned towards Ginny. "If we do find them, they aren't going to be very happy with me."
"When we find them." Ginny corrected, tugging on a loose thread on her sweater. "But I'm sure they'll be too happy you're okay to worry about why you did what you did."
"Maybe."
Around them, the room of students began making their way towards the portrait hole, the chatter dying down as each student disappeared into the corridor. As the crowd thinned, Hermione sighed. They really needed to enlarge the common room. There were twice as many seventh years this year, which made the room seem smaller. That was another thing she and Snape needed to discuss. These types of things were their duty to handle. Though she didn't think it was something he would even think about. She knew it was definitely not something Ron would have thought about.
"Are you ready to head down to dinner?" Ginny asked just as the boys made their way down the stairs.
"Yeah." She said, standing to her feet.
"Hermione!" Ron said, then jumped clean over the sofa to stand next to her. "Can we talk, in private?"
"Sure." It would happen eventually, she might as well get it over with now.
Snape exited the stairwell behind them a few moments later followed by Neville. A look of distaste rising to his face as he weaved his way through the small crowd by the stairs. Hermione couldn't help but notice Snape's attire and how differently it suited him compared to his old teaching robes. It almost felt strange to see him dressed casually. She wondered momentarily if he felt more comfortable in these clothes, and found herself stealing a few glances as she followed Ron towards the corner of the room.
As they reached the corner, Ron took a deep breath, preparing himself for the impending conversation. "Listen, Hermione," he began, his voice filled with a mix of determination and pleading, "I know you're upset about the whole Headboy thing, but I can explain, I mean, I really am sorry about this morning," He said, staring down at his sneakers as he kicked the stone floor. "I just wanted one more time to relax. I didn't think anyone would be up that early, not even you, but I know I should have taken it more seriously."
She wanted to reply with a scathing rebuttal, after all it didn't really matter when he got up, but the sight of him standing there, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, made her soften to his apology. It was rare enough to see him like this and he clearly did look sorry.
She sighed, "I suppose I could have gone myself and not waited. We each had access to the schedule and I know what I'm doing." She ran a hand through her tangled mess of hair. "Just don't make a habit of it. We both have responsibilities. There will be several occasions where we'll be expected to be somewhere early, especially if you want to play for Gryffindor this year. You'll have early morning drills and practices."
"I guess that's true. But I'm glad I gave up being Headboy, I'll have more time for quidditch." He smiled, "You hungry? I'm starved."
Hermione snorted, "Yeah, come on."
As she and Ron made the way towards the Great Hall with their friends, who had graciously waited for them outside the common room, Ginny eyed Hermione curiously, a silent question in her gaze. Hermione responded with a slight nod of her head, signaling that all was well.
Feeling Ron's eyes on her, she forced a smile, trying to suppress her mild disappointment. She wasn't one to stay mad for long, but the sting was still there. Even though she understood why he changed his decision, she couldn't help but feel hurt. There were several reasons why she wanted to be Headgirl, one of which was having Ron by her side.
Once dinner began, the room seemed to buzz with chatter and laughter, and Hermione forced herself to focus on her dinner, yet her mind kept returning to Snape, her eyes flickered to where he sat at the end of the table, alone.
She couldn't help but notice the stark contrast with his usual demeanor. He was much more reserved in this scenario, speaking only when necessary and remaining detached from the lighthearted conversations around him. The stern look he carried, the one that was always associated with his teaching, seemed softer now, as if the walls he held up as a teacher had crumbled somewhat.
"What do you think, Hermione?" Ron asked, studying her curiously.
Hermione looked up, "Hm?"
"Next Hogsmeade weekend, just the four of us." Ron said, taking a big bite of stew.
"Like a double date?" Ginny asked with a large smile, giving Harry a sloppy kiss on his cheek.
"No, just us as friends, which means no smooching my sister Harry." Ron's face twisted and he made gagging sounds.
"Will do." Harry said, then sent Ron a thumbs up while picking up a dinner roll.
"So?" Ron said, looking at Hermione expectantly.
"Sure, sounds fun." She forced a smile.
As the others began plotting their next Hogsmeade trip, Hermione's mind started to wander, the idea of spending time in the wizarding village with her friends sounded fun. However, she found it hard to keep her thoughts from straying to Snape, who was still sitting alone, quietly immersed in his own thoughts. The image of him, so unlike the strict professor she had grown accustomed to, stayed with her through the rest of dinner.