A/N: Instead of spending the weekend doing the many things I needed to get done for this week, I worked on this. You're welcome, because I'll be paying for it all week with the sacrifice of sleep and sanity.
Thanks again for all of the reviews - Chapter 27 was, as of yet, the most-reviewed chapter.
Bound to Him
Chapter 28
Severus awoke with a start, his body drenched in sweat. Within seconds, he lurched out of bed, flying towards his bathroom with just enough time to kneel before his supper reappeared. After expelling the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl, he wiped the sleeve of his nightshirt across his mouth and shakily stood. He gripped both sides of the sink basin and stared at his darkened reflection in the mirror. As his pounding heart approached a more normal pace, he tried to push the nightmare from his thoughts.
The dream was one that frequently plagued his nights when he was younger. Born from an early childhood memory, the dream would trap him in the dingy upstairs corridor of his home in Spinner's End during one of his father's worst drunken rages.
A young Severus pounded endlessly on the door of his parents' bedroom, crying himself hoarse as he listened to his mother's screams. He could hear everything from inside the room – every slap, every tearing of her nightdress, every angry curse, and every sickening squeak of the bed springs.
After what seemed like an eternity in hell, the sadistic squeaking ceased, and her screams dissolved into painful sobs. The door was then yanked open, and Severus fell gracelessly onto his elbows across the threshold of the room. Blinding pain shot across his scalp as his father grabbed a fistful of his hair, hauling him to his feet before tossing him against the opposite wall of the hallway.
'Out of my way, you worthless brat!' Tobias Snape shouted before punching the wall and storming down the stairs.
The front door slammed, rattling the poorly crafted interior walls, and Severus immediately scrambled to his feet. He caught only a glimpse of his mother weeping softly as she lay naked and beaten upon the wrinkled, faded bedspread before the bedroom door closed, seemingly of its own accord.
The memory had haunted his dreams throughout his schooling years. In reality, Eileen Snape stopped protesting her husband's cruel treatment by the time her son started primary school. In fact, she stopped showing any form of emotion – there had been no more tears, no smiles, no loving embraces. Though his mother had chosen to take the abuse in expectant silence – and did so until her early demise – Severus had heard her screams well into his adulthood.
Every occurrence of the nightmare played out exactly as it had happened so many years before. This time, however, the dream had been different. As his small body bounced off the wall and fell to the floor, the angry face that stared down at him was no longer his father's, but his own. In a similar fashion, the crumpled body in the middle of the tarnished brass bed was no longer that of his mother. Instead, it had been Hermione Granger lying there, broken and bleeding as she curled herself into protective ball.
Severus sighed sorrowfully and splashed cold water onto his face.
The sins of the father... He closed his eyes and rested his head against the cold glass of the mirror. He had always hated his father with every ounce of his being, yet it seemed he was destined to become him. The girl had lain beneath him, writhing in pain and screaming bloody murder, and still he had found himself coming to a pleasurable completion. Tonight, there had been minimal resistance on her part, and though Hermione's repulsion had been evident, her subdued acceptance of the situation spurred the memories of his mother. And yet, he found his body had betrayed him once again.
Severus Tobias Snape was as much of a monster as was his middle-namesake.
A soft mewing sound caught his attention. Curiosity overcoming his current bout of self-hatred, he glanced about as he stepped back into his dark bedroom. A scratching noise accompanied the mews, and they became louder as he neared the door on the other side of his bed. As he pulled open the door, the now-familiar ginger cat darted past his legs and launched itself atop the disheveled bedclothes.
Snape briefly frowned at the empty staircase before closing the door and turning towards the invading feline.
"What – you were able to let yourself into my office and into my private passageway, but this door foiled you?"
The cat stared at the man challengingly, then raised his back leg over his head and began licking his rump.
"I thought I sent you upstairs," Severus added with a raise of his eyebrow. When the creature merely continued its preening, he let out an exasperated puff of air. "You came back down here just to wash your arse, is that it? How considerate of you."
He glanced dejectedly towards the open bathroom door and shook his head. He then climbed back into bed, glaring at Crookshanks while yanking the covers out from under the feline.
"Bloody nuisance," he grumbled.
XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX
"Didn't you take a shower last night?" Mattie asked, pulling a brush through her damp, golden locks.
Hermione paused in the doorway of the bathroom with her armful of clothes. "Erm, I thought it might help wake me up."
"Oh," the older girl shrugged. "I suppose it might, yeah."
Ginny, however, glanced at her in concern. "You didn't sleep well last night?"
"I slept alright," she responded quietly. She then faked a yawn and gestured with her head towards the shower. "Just still tired."
As the redhead nodded her understanding, Hermione shut the bathroom door behind her and dropped her clothes to the floor.
Surprisingly, she had slept relatively well after finally managing to pull herself together and get out of the shower. Her tears had been limited to her time in the shower, and she had explained away her puffy, red eyes by claiming soap had dripped into them.
She had been spared further questioning by the sudden appearance of her familiar and his subsequent expulsion of a rather large, exceptionally slimy furball in the middle of their floor. Crookshanks had seemed rather pleased with himself, listening to the cries of disgust as Hermione cleared the mess away with a quick Evanesco. The cat had curled up against her side when she crawled into bed, remaining until after she had fallen asleep.
The girl woke to find he had again disappeared somewhere. Off-handedly, she wondered where it was that he went – he had not spent this much time away from Gryffindor tower since Sirius had been lurking about the grounds during her third year.
Stripping out of her pajamas, Hermione switched on the showerhead. As she stepped into the spray, her gaze unconsciously swept down to her legs. She winced at the faint red marks covering the inside of her thighs. Her stomach dropped at the memory of her crazed attempts to scrub away all evidence of Snape having touched her. She had felt so disgusting afterward that she had not allowed herself to leave the shower until well after her fingers had become wrinkled and the skin of her thighs had become raw.
Even now, as she determinedly worked shampoo into her mass of hair, she wanted nothing more than to wash herself free of her memories.
And not only those regarding the bonding. Hermione closed her eyes and let the water pound against her face. Since Ron had reminded her of her upcoming birthday, she had frequently thought of her parents. Before starting her magical education, birthdays had been a special event in the Granger household. Her parents always closed their practice if September 19th fell on a weekday, and would spend the day with her if she was not in school. They would go to the park or the zoo, get ice cream, or spend hours playing board games. When it came time for dinner, she and her mother would put on fancy dresses and her father would take the both of them to an expensive restaurant.
The tradition ended for her, though, when she boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time. Her parents could not take her out for the day, so instead they would send a lengthy letter along with her gifts. They would still dress up and dine out every year, celebrating what they both claimed to be 'the best day of them all.' This year, however, there would be no reservation made under the name Granger, and tomorrow there would be no letter for her at breakfast.
Two tears joined the water streaming down her face. After a moment of reflection, she breathed deeply, squared her shoulders, and told herself it was time to face the day.
XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX
Severus frowned in thought as he made his way towards the staffroom for the weekly Saturday morning meeting. There was no doubt in his mind Lupin would deem it necessary to mention Miss Granger's odd behavior again. The girl had been doing well enough but had recently become more withdrawn. Though he could understand why, he was aware others had noticed her sudden turn of melancholy. At dinner, Professors Sprout and Vector had discussed her apparent lack of attention during their Friday classes.
"Severus." Remus gave a hesitant grin while holding open the staffroom door.
The dark-haired man narrowed his eyes and silently stole past his colleague.
Lupin gave a soft sigh and followed him into the room, taking up the chair beside the man. "You seem to be in high spirits today."
"Don't be ridiculous," Snape glared, folding his arms across his chest. "Pay attention, mutt. We wouldn't want you to miss an opportunity to fawn over the Headmaster."
The werewolf was about to offer a reply when a withering glare from McGonagall silenced him. Dumbledore had started speaking, and everyone else had turned their attention in his direction.
Twenty minutes passed before Pomona broached the subject Severus was most dreading.
"It's about Miss Granger, Headmaster," the plump witch stated. "She had improved – nearly back to her old self, I thought – but I'm afraid she's suffered some setback. She was so distracted in class yesterday, poor Neville had to pull her out of the way of the Snapping Dragonlillies before she lost a finger!"
Poor Neville, indeed. Snape scoffed, though inwardly he was concerned by the information. He had not suspected her performance had been so affected. If she did not improve by the start of next week, Tuesday's practical Potions session would be a nightmare to get her through unscathed.
"Some might declare that fair turnabout, Pomona," he smirked haughtily, hiding his anxiety from the rest of the staff. "Merlin only knows how many times the roles were reversed in my classroom. Longbottom's lucky he doesn't owe the girl a life debt already."
"Hush, Severus," Minerva instructed. "That isn't the point."
He rolled his eyes as Lupin cleared his throat.
"I believe I have an explanation for Hermione's apparent relapse."
Snape barely managed to school his expression and control the speed at which his head spun towards the man beside him. Logically, he knew there was no possibility Lupin could know of the bond he shared with the girl, but it did nothing to calm the sudden pounding in his chest.
"I spoke briefly with Harry after yesterday's class," the Defense instructor explained. "He believes her recent distraction has more to do with the date than anything else –"
The date? Severus narrowed his eyes. Was the boy a complete idiot? What would that have to do with anything?
"—Hermione Granger comes of age today, as it were. He and Ron Weasley think she's worried she won't hear from her parents since they've gone into hiding."
Snape's eyes widened in surprise before he slammed them shut. He ignored the murmurs of agreement resounding about the room, focusing instead on the shame he felt. Today was her birthday? Why didn't I know this? Why didn't I think to even find out when her bloody birthday was?
He reopened his eyes, leaned back against his chair, and stared blankly out the window. He had not considered anyone's birthday since Lily died, and even before that, hers had been the only one he cared to remember. It had been during one of their earliest conversations that they had discovered they had been born during the same month. When they had become better friends, he often teased her about being three weeks younger than he was. Truthfully, that had been the only thing he could hold over her regarding the matter, since his birthdays were always just as bleak and miserable as the other three hundred and sixty-four days of the year. Hers, on the other hand, had always been joyous occasions, filled with cake, presents, and friends.
Lily had invited him to a few of her parties before they started at Hogwarts, but after the embarrassment of sitting amongst her primary school friends, watching as they showered her with brilliantly-wrapped gifts he could never have afforded, he vowed never to return. The next year, he had made some pitiful excuse, then waited behind a snowbank until her other friends had left before presenting her with his shoddy, hand-made card. Of course, Lily had accepted his card with a smile before tugging him along to see the snow fort she and her friends had built in the backyard.
It pained him now to think of how his cards had made her smile during the first five years of their magical schooling. There were no longer any other friends for her to celebrate with, and her parents were the only ones to send her anything through the post. He remembered quite vividly how Lily's face always brightened at the sight of the school's owl swooping down with her package from home.
Drawing himself from his recollections, he realized Potter's assumption was likely not far off the mark – at least for some of Miss Granger's misery. From what he had seen of the girl's memories, she and her parents appeared rather close. Hermione was probably as accustomed to her parents' attention and correspondence as Lily had been.
Severus sighed, admitting the girl deserved something to make the day a little brighter. Especially since the Gryffindor Quidditch team was having another day of try-outs, and the two twits likely expected her presence at the pitch all afternoon. As someone who was not an avid fan of the sport, it could be a miserable way to spend her birthday.
Of course this means you'll have to buy her a present. His upper lip curled in mild disgust as he considered the prospect of shopping for a teenage girl. He was currently at a loss as to what she would like, but he did have a very good notion of where to start his quest.
Glancing up at the clock, Snape pinched his lips together with impatience. If he had any hope of returning before dark, he would need to leave soon. He turned his gaze to the Headmaster with forceful determination, as though by staring at the man, he could speed up the process. Luck appeared to be on his side, however, for Albus was already in the midst of adjourning the meeting.
When the others began to rise from the table, Severus immediately stood and made for the exit. He was halfway down the hall when he heard his name being shouted. He spun to view Minerva bustling after him.
"Where are you going?" she asked, catching up to him.
"Out," he growled.
McGonagall narrowed her eyes and huffed. "You weren't paying attention to the meeting at all."
Snape did not waste his breath trying to deny it and glanced at her with indifference. "Did I miss something of import?"
"Well, no," she shook her head before her eyes took on a serious demeanor. "Is something else troubling her?"
He shrugged and stared at the floor. "More than likely."
The witch shifted uncomfortably. "Is there anything you'd like me to do?"
"No," he answered honestly. "Now if you would excuse me –"
"Severus, where are you going?" she asked again.
Without bothering to turn around, he threw his response over his shoulder. "Out!"
XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX
Hermione fought hard to hide her disappointment when the scraggly-looking Weasley family owl plopped a package down in her untouched bowl of porridge. As she pulled it out of the mush and wiped it off, she shot the bird a look of sheer exasperation.
"Sorry 'bout that," Ron grimaced as he sat down beside her. "Stupid bird."
"It's alright," she shrugged. "Since when does your mum send me packages?"
"It's your birthday, innit?" He gestured to the box in her hand. "She's been fretting over you since Dumbledore told them about the attack on your house. Surprised she waited until your birthday to send anything."
As a small smile appeared on her face, Hermione quietly tore into the simple, brown wrapping paper. She laughed upon pulling out a knitted hat and scarf.
"S'pose she thought you needed a decent set after all those misshapen ones you made," Ron smirked.
Hermione rolled her eyes but giggled anyway. "I didn't hear any complaints from Dobby."
"Yeah, but he was wearing somebody's pants on his head the other day."
"Shut it." She gave him a gentle shove.
Ron laughed, then withdrew a small, slender object from his pocket. He blushed as he passed it to her. "Happy birthday, Hermione."
Grinning, Hermione unwrapped the present, which was revealed to be a thin metal bookmark decorated with dainty bluebirds that flitted about the painted pink flowers.
The redhead ducked his head nervously. "I know it's not much, but it won't ever fall out and –"
"It's perfect," she interrupted, throwing her arms around his neck. A half second later, she froze, realizing what she had just done. Wincing, she pulled away from him and focused her attention on the mess of porridge in front of her. She cleared her throat in an attempt to change the subject. "So, where's Harry?"
"Hiding," he mumbled, poking at his own bowl of food. "I let him stay in the Prefect's room last night. You wouldn't believe how many people are bothering him over the try-outs. He didn't finish with the Chasers til real late, so he's having a lie-in before this afternoon."
Hermione nodded in understanding. Ginny had been so exhausted after her run last night that this morning she barely managed a muffled 'Birfday, Mione' before falling asleep again.
"You're not eating," Ron stated, finally daring to look at her.
"Neither are you," she countered with a sigh.
He shrugged. "Too nervous to eat."
The girl gave him a sympathetic smile and briefly squeezed his arm. "You'll be great. I know it."
"I've looked over the sign-up sheet, and the only one I'm really worried about is McLaggen." He grumbled and gave his porridge another stab. "The only reason they let me on the team last year was because he was stupid enough to eat doxy eggs."
"He's an idiot, Ron. You'll be fine."
"Speak of the devil," he muttered gloomily, gesturing towards the doors of the Great Hall where the good-looking seventh-year had just appeared. "You wouldn't happen to have any doxy eggs on you, would you? I could slip it in his breakfast."
"Ronald!" she hissed, shaking her head. "That's cheating!"
"It was just a joke, Hermione," he grinned as he stood.
"You have to earn the spot the right way," she continued with a harsh stare.
Ron rolled his eyes, beginning to walk away. "Which is why I'm going to go grab Harry and see if he'll help me get in some extra practice. I'll see you this afternoon. You are coming, right?"
Hermione sighed and nodded. She had nothing else to do that day and could just as easily read in the bleachers as she could in the common room. At least there she would see her friends and would not have to spend her birthday alone.
Glancing up, she noticed Cormac had stopped Ron on his way out of the hall. Ron's face flushed red, and she willed him to keep his temper in check. A second later, Ron stormed out of the hall, leaving a smirking McLaggen behind. When the handsome older boy sent a flirtatious wink in her direction, she stiffened uncomfortably, quickly gathered her gifts, and fled the room.
XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX
A few hours later, Hermione slung a bag full of books over her shoulder and quietly strode out towards the Quidditch pitch. Before making her way into the stands, she decided she should say hello to Harry while he was not busy running the trials. She spotted him beneath the stands, where he was talking to Ron. As she got nearer to them, she caught snippets of their conversation.
"You can't let him on the team, Harry. Even if he does beat me, you can't let him on the team!"
The dark-haired boy shook his head. "I can't do that, Ron. Whoever does the best gets the position, fair and square."
Ron groaned and kicked a rock. "But he's a complete prat!"
"Well, if he can block the Quaffle long enough for me to catch the Snitch, that's all that matters," Harry muttered. "We need to win this year, Ron. If he does better than you, it's him. If you do better than him, it's you. Or maybe it'll be one of the others who signed up if they do better than the both of you."
"Ugh!" Ron hissed. "First he goes after the Keeper position, and now he's after Hermione!"
Hermione felt her stomach flip.
"What do you mean he's after her?" Harry asked.
The redhead shook his head angrily. "He grabbed me at breakfast this morning, telling me it wasn't personal or anything about the try-outs. And then the stupid slug asked if I could introduce her to him. Said he wouldn't mind getting to know her on a first name basis, if I knew what that meant. Of course I bloody know what that meant, and Idon't like it, Harry!"
"I don't like it either, Ron, but there's nothing I can do. Hermione's smart – she's not going to go for a tosser like him, no matter how much he fancies her."
"But what if she does? She went for Krum, didn't she? McLaggen's better looking than me, and he's rich! If he knew it was her birthday, he would have bought her something nicer than a stupid bookmark!"
Harry frowned. "Didn't she like your present?"
"Well, she acted like it," he shrugged, "but how could she have really? It's a bloody bookmark!"
"And it's Hermione," Harry responded with a pointed look, before glancing down at his watch. "I have to go, Ron, but you need to get a hold of yourself. If you don't get your head in the game, McLaggen will beat you. And as for Hermione, if you like her that much, ask her out yourself."
Hermione did not hear Ron's response for she had set off on a dead sprint from the pitch. Her stomach was twisting terribly, and hot tears were slipping down her cheeks. She did not stop running until she reached a large tree, where she tossed her bag to the ground and collapsed against the tree trunk.
She had known for some time that Ron had feelings for her, but the desperation in his voice made her feel sick. Why does it all have to happen now?
Fate was playing the cruelest of tricks upon her. No one, besides Victor, had ever shown interest in her before, and now, when she was completely unavailable, they were appearing out of the bloody woodwork! Ron was so upset by the possibility of her not choosing him, yet Hermione had no choice but to refuse him.
And Cormac McLaggen? Why is he suddenly interested? The young witch knew his reputation – he was not likely to take no for an answer.
In some alternate universe, Hermione probably would have been flattered by the competitive interest, but now it only made her feel nauseous. She was going to have to evade Cormac at all cost and do everything she could to discourage him. It was worse, though, to think of Ron. If he were to take Harry's advice and ask her out, she was going to have to break his heart. And that was going to break hers.
Wiping her eyes, she knew Ron deserved some happiness. Since he could not have her, he needed the Keeper position. Swallowing nervously, she scrambled to her feet, grabbed her book bag, and vowed to do everything in her power to make sure he made the team.
With a silent apology to Harry for possibly ruining his 'top-notch' team, Hermione set off towards the Quidditch pitch.
XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX
As darkness settled upon the castle, Severus finally made his way back to his quarters. Having dealt with over-enthusiastic shopkeepers, tension was beginning to accumulate in his forehead. When he entered his sitting room, he almost immediately collapsed into his worn, leather armchair. He pulled the two small boxes from the pocket of his outer robes, and carefully set them upon the end table beside him.
After staring at the boxes for a few minutes, he sighed and summoned fresh parchment, a quill, and an inkwell. He scratched out a short note onto the parchment, then banished the ink and quill back to their normal residence.
"Dobby!" he bellowed, pinching his eyes shut.
With a sharp pop, the garishly-dressed house elf appeared before him. "Master Snape, sir, needs Dobby?"
The man took a deep breath and nodded. He picked up the boxes and held them out to the elf. "I need you to wrap these. Tastefully, mind you – not like the way you dress."
The elf's eyes widened in excitement, and he emphatically nodded.
"Attach this to the smaller of the two," Snape continued, handing over the parchment. "And then I need you to deliver them to Miss Granger's dormitory….without drawing attention to yourself. Is that understood?"
"Yes Master Snape, sir! Dobby understands!" The elf practically danced with joy. "Dobby will make sure Master Snape, sir's presents for Hermione Granger are perfect!"
"Yes, yes," Severus grunted with an irritated wave of his hand. "Be gone with you!"
Another crack filled the air, and the quivering body of Dobby the house elf disappeared.
XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX
"I can't believe he missed those shots!" Ron shouted happily as they made their way back to Gryffindor Tower.
"Shhh, Ron," Hermione admonished, looking around for any sign of Cormac. "He could hear you!"
"Don't care if he does!" he grinned, proudly tightening his grip on his broomstick. "He's not the starting Keeper – I am!"
Harry clapped his friend on the shoulder blade. "You did great, Ron! You only missed one."
"Yeah, because Gin had to go and be all nasty about it."
"Get used to it." Ginny rolled her eyes and pushed past him into the Common Room.
"Oi! Where are you off to?" he called after his sister.
She turned around long enough to answer. "I have rounds, Ron! Some of us still have prefect duties, you know."
"Well, that was a bit harsh," Ron muttered. After a few seconds, he shrugged and casually slipped an arm around both Harry's and Hermione's shoulders. "Well, what shall we do, then?"
Hermione shivered at his touch and immediately pulled away. "Erm, I think I'm just going to go to bed. It's been a long day, and those benches are uncomfortable."
Ron looked disappointed, but Harry gave her a small smile. "Thanks for coming, Hermione – and happy birthday again."
"Thanks," she smiled, heading towards the stairs. "Good night! And congratulations, Ron!"
She kept the fake smile plastered on her face until Ginny passed her coming back down the stairs. She wished the girl a good night, knowing she would be fast asleep by the time Ginny returned from her rounds. There was a flask of Dreamless Sleep with her name on it.
Stepping into their empty room, she exhaled deeply and numbly went about getting ready for bed. When she stumbled over to her bed and pulled back the bed curtains in search of her pajamas, her breath caught momentarily at the sight of two small gifts placed on her pillow. They were brilliantly wrapped in silver paper with large, blue bows. Pulling the first one towards her, she suspected who had sent them.
With an awkward lump in her throat, Hermione perched on the edge of her bed. She slipped the rolled up piece of parchment from within the bow and nervously unfurled it.
Dear Miss Granger,
Upon inquiry, I was informed your parents had placed an order for your birthday. Were they able, they would have presented you with this on their own. It is with my deepest regret that I must deliver it on their behalf.
Sincerely,
Professor S. Snape
Tears forming in her eyes, the witch dropped the note and hastily tore off the beautiful wrapping paper. She let out a deep breath and stared at the small jewelry box for a long moment before flipping open the lid. A sob escaped her upon seeing the delicate sapphire ring nestled into the velvet pillow within the box.
It was tradition on her mother's side of the family that every girl received a ring of her birthstone upon the day she reached her majority. She could not begin to describe the emotion she felt knowing her parents had chosen the day she came of age in magical society instead of the Muggle one.
Her hands shook as she examined the ring. Two small diamonds sparkled on either side of the midnight blue stone, and the white gold metal of the band twisted between the gems as though it were a vine. It was so beautiful that had her parents been alive and standing in front of her, she still would have cried and then yanked them into a giant hug.
As it was, however, she could only remember the last time she had spoken to them. She saw the love and sadness in their expressions as she shouted at them and ran away. She had been angry, partly because she felt they were not accepting her place in the Wizarding World. The presence of the ring box in her hand shattered that notion, making it clear their suggestion had only been for her protection.
Hermione stared at the box for ages, weeping to the point that she could not even see the ring through her tears. Guilt burned through her chest as she realized she did not deserve the gift.
"Granger?"
The crying girl raised her eyes from the ring and found herself staring at her blonde roommate.
Mattie's face was full of concern. "What's wrong?"
Hermione only shook her head and dropped her eyes back to her hands. She squeezed her eyes shut as the seventh year cautiously sat beside her.
"That's a gorgeous ring. You got it for your birthday? Who's it from?"
The brunette sniffled, wiping her face on the back of her sleeve. "My p-parents."
"Oh," Mattie responded softly. "How long has it been since you spoke with them?"
Hermione swallowed back another sob as she sorted through the memories of the past month. "Almost five weeks. W-we fought."
"I'm sorry," the girl replied, taking hold of Hermione's hand and giving it a squeeze. She glanced up at the appearance of the third roommate in the doorway.
"Hermione?" Ginny asked anxiously. "Are you alright?"
Mattie quickly vacated her spot on Hermione's bed so the redhead could replace her. As Ginny sat down, she peered into her friend's lap. "Lovely ring. Who gave that to you?"
"Her parents," Mattie murmured when it appeared Hermione was not going to answer.
"Oh," Ginny responded politely, concerned by Hermione's shaking form. A sudden light of realization appeared in her eyes, and she let out a more knowing, "Oh."
When Hermione collapsed back against her pillows, Ginny scrambled up higher onto the bed. She pushed the other gift to the edge of the bed and laid next to her friend, wrapping her arms around the girl's chest.
"Maybe you'll get to see them for Christmas," she suggested in a hopeful tone.
Hermione sighed and ducked her head. "It's all my fault."
"No, it isn't."
"Yes, it is!" she argued louder. "If I weren't a witch, none of this would have happened."
Ginny tightened her embrace. "If you weren't a witch, Harry would probably be dead three times over – Ron, too. And Neville, come to think of it – he'd never have survived five years of Potions without you. And we'd likely still be stuck with that horrible toad for Defense."
The bushy-haired girl gave a small snort but pulled her knees closer to her chest. "I miss them so much."
Ginny rested her forehead against Hermione's shoulder and nodded. "I know."
XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX
Severus sat stiffly at the Head Table on Sunday morning. He had been there some time already, and his food had long since gone cold. He had not been very hungry in the first place but decided to come to breakfast, hoping to glimpse Miss Granger. He needed to judge for himself how distracted she would be.
Upon checking his watch, he gave an impatient puff of air and reached for his coffee mug. Miraculously the beverage was still warm as he sipped it. He had been waiting nearly an hour, and as of yet there was no sign of the bushy-haired Gryffindor. Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum had already come and gone, as had a majority of the student body. Only a smattering of students remained in the hall, enjoying their breakfasts.
Frustrated by the amount of time he was wasting, he set down the coffee and readied himself to leave. His actions were halted, however, when he caught sight of the two figures that had just appeared.
The youngest Weasley had slipped her arm through Granger's and seemed to be pulling the older girl towards the Gryffindor table. As the girls found their seats, Severus noticed they both seemed rather worse for wear. Their hair was unkempt, and their clothes were noticeably rumpled – as though they had been slept in.
His chest clenched slightly as he focused his gaze on Miss Granger. The edges of her eyes were red and puffy, and her skin had taken on an ashen look. She said nothing, staring blankly at her plate as the younger redhead piled a generous serving of eggs onto it.
She's worse than I thought. He sighed in exasperation as he watched the pair of them. The corners of his lips twitched as the young Miss Weasley gestured forcefully to the food, clearly instructing the other girl to eat. It was startling how accurate an imitation it was of her mother, who had occasionally given him the same demanding treatment.
Hermione, on the other hand, was doing her best to mirror his behavior in the situation. He rarely ever gave into Molly's incessant badgering, choosing to glare at the well-prepared meal instead of consuming it. Seeing the girl do the same thing, however, only served to frustrate him further.
'Eat, Granger.'
Her head jerked up at his harsh instruction, and her eyes sought out his form. When he met her gaze, he saw her eyes narrow in anger. He felt a small sense of satisfaction when she dropped her gaze and begrudgingly picked up her fork.
XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX
When Ginny finally left her side later that afternoon, Hermione fled to the sanctity of their empty room. She shoved the ring-box and the note from Professor Snape to the back of her drawer, hoping that the adage, 'out of sight, out of mind' might ring true. Letting out a deep sigh, she flopped backwards across her bed. When something sharp poked her in the cheek, she squawked and felt around on the mattress beside her.
Pulling forth the slender box wrapped in silver, the girl sat up and hesitantly stared at the present she had forgotten. Snape only referred to the ring as being from her parents, which meant that this one had to be from him. Gingerly, she unwrapped the box, taking as much time as she could to delay revealing his gift. She was not sure why she was so hesitant to discover the box's contents; perhaps she was afraid it would be some meaningless trinket he had purchased merely to appease her.
Hermione nervously gulped in air as she finally pulled the lid from the flat box. A startled gasp escaped her lips, and she gaped at the necklace carefully tucked into the velvet lining of the box. Upon the dainty, silver chain hung a cloudy purple stone. Her eyes widened as she lifted the item from its box and let it rest upon her hand.
The amethyst was round in shape and was quite smooth and cool to the touch. It covered a good portion of her palm, and inscribed into the center was a rune marking she recognized as Algiz – the Rune of Protection and Opportunity. She closed her fingers around the pendant, feeling a small sense of calm as she called forth the description of Algiz she had written in an essay for a long-ago Ancient Runes lesson.
"…The shape, embodied in the antler of the elk and the blade of the sedge-grass herb, gives the appearance of a hand raised in a protective gesture... This rune has been worn by those who are guided by alertness and awareness, possessing not only wisdom and vision but also the clarity of mind to aid them in their journey…. Although the path may be fraught with danger, you need not fear when you are guided by Algiz, for the power of protection rests within you…"
Running her thumb across the smooth surface of the amethyst, Hermione remembered that an upcoming unit in her Ancient Runes course would focus on the meaning of stones used to make magical runes. With a renewed sense of curiosity, she slipped off her bed and grabbed her Runes text from her desk. Sinking down onto the floor, she quickly searched through the book for any mention of the purple gemstone.
Before long, she stumbled across the passage she sought.
The amethyst stone is exceptionally versatile in the art of rune-making, for it can be used as a stone of power, protection, wisdom, and healing. It can be used as a dream stone due to its capacity for bringing favorable dreams to the bearer of the rune. The protection bestowed upon the owner of the amethyst is not only directed against the witchcraft of an enemy, but also against the self-deception, guilt, and fear that may lurk within one's own being. Its healing strength allows one the power to focus energy, heal negativity, and overcome fears. The stone may also offer relief from headaches, treat insomnia, or aid in meditation (especially when worn about the neck).
Hermione allowed the heavy book to fall shut and leaned back against the side of her bed. A small smile crept upon her face as she clutched the necklace close to her chest.
XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX
Snape watched with uncertainty as the girl dispassionately shoved her returned essay into her book bag. He had been monitoring her throughout the class for any signs of distress, and had oddly seen none. After her appearance yesterday morning, it seemed strange that her performance in class would not be affected. She had paid complete attention to the lecture, even venturing to answer a question, which had earned her a meager point for her house.
When she turned to follow Potter out of the room, he cleared his throat. "A moment, Miss Granger."
Hermione smiled encouragingly at the boy beside her and waited until he had left before walking back to Snape's desk. "Sir?"
Severus narrowed his eyes at her polite demeanor, thinking it a far cry from the death glare she had sent him only twenty-four hours prior. He also found it strange that he could see the chain of the amethyst necklace poking out from beneath her shirt, but there was no trace of the sapphire ring upon any of her fingers.
Pushing his concerns away, he leaned back in his chair and met her gaze. "The Gryffindor Quidditch team is scheduled to practice Monday and Thursday nights, are they not?"
The girl nodded. "Starting tonight at seven, yes."
"I feel it would be prudent not to waste the time when the majority of your interrogators will be otherwise engaged, don't you?"
Hermione gave a slight smile and ducked her head. "Yes, sir."
"That being settled," he drawled, "I will expect you promptly at seven in the corridor outside of Professor McGonagall's personal quarters. I assume you remember where that is."
She nodded, then gave him a curious look. "If you don't mind me asking... why there?"
"And if I do mind you asking?" he snapped out of habit before thinking better of it. "Now that you are of age, Miss Granger, your training will be expanded to include things best left unmonitored by the Ministry. Given the chance of student or staff interference, my office is not always conducive to these activities."
"Oh." Hermione rocked back on her heels. "So the magical trace on underage wizards applies even while at Hogwarts?"
"Indeed," Severus answered with a quick nod. "The Trace documents every occurrence of magic – accidental or not – demonstrated by a wizard or witch from birth until the day of his or her seventeenth birthday. Certain Ministry officials monitor the reports and decide whether or not action needs to be taken."
Her eyes widened before she suddenly closed them. "Erm, Professor? When exactly does the Trace end? I mean, does it switch off as soon as the day of your birthday begins, or does it measure the seventeen years from your exact time of birth?"
He opened his mouth to admit he did not know, then stopped and pinched his eyes together in suspicion. "Why?"
"No reason," she hastily answered, making her way towards the door.
"Miss Granger," he purred dangerously. "Why do you ask?"
"I'll see you at seven, sir," she smiled much-too-innocently before slipping out of the room.
A/N: If you're curious about what Algiz looks like, you can Google it. I think it looks like a chicken's foot.