Hey guys! Hope everyone is well! I've just recovered from a bout of Costochondritis (feels like having your chest crushed all the time, not fun) so apologies that this chapter took longer than I'd planned. I'd actually written a chunk of it before I finished Chap 21, but it took a lot of editing to get right. I'm finally happy with how it turned out! In case you didn't notice, I also rewrote the summary for the fic. I hate having to write a summary at the start when you're not sure how the story is quite going to play out, but I think it reflects the plot a lot better now than it did before.
This chap is a long one! It also sees a turn in our delightful couple's relationship, and it was a joy to write :) I hope you enjoy!
She really didn't want to go. If there was one thing that she had no interest in doing right now, it was awkwardly rubbing shoulders with the Slughorn elite.
It had been a long time since she'd slept so badly. When she finally did drift off - after running all the way from the Defense classroom right to her bed - it was to be assaulted by all manner of nightmares, of death, despair. Scrubbing her eyes open, she could barely find the will to sit up in bed. Just as soon as she was coherent, memories flooded back to her and once again she was plagued with anxiety and grief. She had been privy to information that wasn't hers to take, and she had no idea what to do with it. She felt like an onlooker, watching as events slowly unraveled. The one person she needed to speak to more than anyone was Professor Snape, but where did one even begin? She could remember, vividly, the feeling of pure anguish that had emanated from that memory as she watched. He had been shattered, and instead of staying and providing him some sort of support, she'd turned tail and run, all because she couldn't handle the information she'd been given. That was literally her job - ingest information - and she'd failed at it. So why would he have any interest in seeing her now? He was probably as equally disappointed as he was furious at that invasion of privacy. Honestly, he had every right to be angry. She was equally as mad knowing that she had all but abandoned him last night. Well, she'd just need to make it right, wouldn't she? There was something else strangely fueling her desire to fix things - he'd called her by her given name. Never in six years had she heard him address a student by anything other than their family name, even Draco, so if that wasn't a sign that he needed her help she didn't know what was.
Instead of lying in bed letting dread wash over her, she'd quickly showered and dressed and headed to the library to do some research. As she mulled over Snape's memories again and again she tried to focus on what she knew. From what she had seen, no matter what Snape - or anyone else - did, the Headmaster was going to die. It was still difficult to process that fact. She hadn't heard the why behind his inevitable demise, but that was neither here nor there. He was, and he seemed to be resigned to his fate. She also knew that he had dragged her Potions professor into the mess and that made her furious. She couldn't even begin to fathom how it must feel being ordered to end a life, but Dumbledore's life? The Headmaster was surely aware of the consequences of her Professor playing the role of his executioner - he would be vilified for eternity. It was one for the history books. She also knew that Draco was involved, which annoyed her more than anything, because it meant that Harry was actually right. She had really hoped that this obsession with Malfoy was just an overreaction on Harry's part, but if what Dumbledore had said was true then he really was up to something sinister. Hours passed as Hermione mulled over her new found knowledge, her research on Horcruxes going practically nowhere and her thoughts resigned to replaying the same basic details over and over, when eventually her stomach had begun to rumble and she knew she couldn't delay food any longer.
After a rushed lunch, noting that unsurprisingly Professor Snape was not in attendance, she'd been all but dragged back to the Gryffindor common room to get ready for the night's party by Ginny.
"Ginny we still have hours.."
"And a lot of work to do. Come on Hermione, indulge me just this once."
So they'd retired to the girl's dormitories and Hermione had sat diligently while Ginny fussed at her, adding things, taking things away, this type of look, that type of look. She'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy being made up. If anything, the act of getting ready helped her forget why she had to get ready in the first place. She was under no illusions as to why she was allowing Ginny to put in the effort. In the unlikely event that Professor Snape turned up, she wanted to at least look mature. She wasn't just a student, after all, she was an Order member - a teammate. She wanted to apologize to him, to make him understand that she was on his side, and perhaps he'd be more inclined to talk to her if she didn't look like a silly schoolgirl.
In the end, she'd opted for an outfit outside of her house-colour wheel. Her dress was cut over one shoulder, in a gorgeous deep emerald that flowed down to the floor. The jewelry she'd picked had been met with approval from Ginny - a simple, delicate necklace that hung down towards the top of her bust and silver drop earrings for the contrast. Her hair was being.. Well, its' unruly self. Thank goodness Ginny had been on hand to deal with it, using some quick charms it had been brought up into a bun with locks falling down on either side. Perfect. Some more charmwork and her makeup was also set. Despite her anxious mood, she was glad she at least looked the part. With Hermione ready to tackle the evening head on, Ginny had run off to get herself ready, leaving the witch with a little time to mull over Professor Snape's predicament. The more she did that, however, the more nervous she became, until she was more worried about ruining Ginny's hard work than what she would say to her Professor should he decide to turn up.
Before she knew it, Ginny was shaking her out of her thoughts and dragging her down the stairs to meet their dates. Urgh, the fact she was having to attribute that word to a creep like Cormac McLaggen was nauseating. Steeling her nerves, Hermione plastered on her best smile and prepared for an incredibly tense evening.
Severus Snape took his time. It was what made him so good at the many roles he was forced to play. Every move was carefully crafted, options weighed, the best course of action a beacon in his mind. As he slowly made his way through the darkening corridors of Hogwarts, he was decidedly unsure about the decisions he was making, but incredibly sure that this particular move had not been carefully crafted. It was Slughorn's ridiculous party that evening. Honestly, it couldn't have come at a worse time. He'd spent the better part of 24 hours flitting between his armchair and his lab, and he'd really rather just continue that routine. Sleep had evaded him, but of course. How did one sleep after events such as those? Severus Snape, a man who could easily claim to be one of the most capable Occlumens in the Wizarding World, had been unable to shut out his thoughts. He'd tried alcohol - the old faithful - but all that had done was give everything a horrible melancholy hue. He'd tried working, there were always stocks to be replenished somewhere. But truthfully he could have brewed those potions with his eyes closed and the lack of concentration required only served to keep him trapped in his thoughts for longer. So in the end he'd wandered aimlessly between the two, neither serving to lift the weight on his mind. And then he had remembered this damned party. He'd agreed before the Christmas break to be in attendance as a chaperone of sorts. Indeed, this was a gathering filled with liquor and adolescents, lord knows someone needed to keep an eye on the brats. As he closed in on the aging Slytherin's office, he had half a mind to blow the whole thing off and return to his rooms to continue the maudlin routine, but he knew that as soon as Albus got word of him skipping the event he'd have to deal with another stern lecture and heaven forbid he fall out of favour with his intended victim. As that morbid thought washed over him, he was reminded of another reason for ending his destructive cycle, a certain Gryffindor nuisance. He had neglected to let Albus know of Miss Granger's unintended involvement in his scheme, he wouldn't put it past the wizard to demand she be obliviated and that wasn't a route he was willing to take. After all, if he was being honest with himself, he was as much to blame for her discovery as she. He hadn't been thinking straight, he'd all but forgotten their lesson and while he was furious that she hadn't just followed a simple instruction, he should have sent her away instead of trying to appear in control. However, what he'd seen in her mind stung. What did he even want from her? An apology? An admission that their.. Comradery this last year had been built on nothing but instruction? He wasn't surprised, after all. The idea of Severus Snape forming anything close to friendship with anyone was ridiculous. However, he would have rather known that this would be a relationship of necessity and nothing else, then perhaps he could have thrown any untoward feelings aside more easily. As it was, his position made him feel ashamed. He'd been played for a fool.
But Merlin, he wanted to see her. Despite his conflicted, muddled brain, he knew he'd feel remotely better as long as he knew she was alright. The knowledge that Dumbledore was destined for an early grave, coupled with the order that he would be the one to end it, had shattered him. Miss Granger did not have to face that burden, but the harsh reality of that situation would not have been lost to her. This was, undeniably, a victory for the Dark. A child should not have to be faced with such a revelation.
She's not a child though, not anymore.
He grimaced at the thought - no, he didn't suppose she was.
He pushed open the door to Slughorn's office and was immediately met with a scene far too cheery for the overcast January weather. All around, small groups were happily chatting away, sharing drinks and laughing. He hadn't thought he was overly late, but judging by the redness on some of guests' faces it seemed he was wrong. Sighing, he made his way to the bar, grabbed himself a tall glass of Ogden's, and retreated to one of the walls to begin his long watch. In truth, the sober-up potion he'd gulped down a few hours ago had done little to stave off the massive headache forming behind his eyes and perhaps more alcohol would go some ways as to fix it, just for a moment.
Looking around the room, he saw her before she saw him, and immediately he began to regret his decision to make an appearance. She looked beautiful. In the past, it had always been easy to stamp down any inappropriate feelings towards the girl because that's how she behaved - as a schoolgirl. Here, dressed in delectable gemstone green, she was radiant. Her outfit showed off perhaps too much - this was a school, after all - but accentuated the curve of her hips, the dip in her lower back, the length of her legs.. Merlin forgive him, he couldn't help but stare. Pushing his head firmly back against the wall, he groaned inwardly. A fool, indeed.
She didn't seem to be enjoying herself, that much was obvious. For all that she looked the part, it must be difficult for someone of her standing to interact with others here. It was so unlike Slughorn to invite muggleborns to these things - ever the consummate Slytherin - and it was clear just from looking that she felt out of her depth. It didn't help that she was being dragged around by.. was that Cormac McLaggen?! Of all the prospective dates Miss Granger could choose, he would have ranked McLaggen very near the bottom. What in the world would have possessed her to entertain that dunderhead? A flash of something struck him, and even though his inner thoughts were quick to point out that it was jealousy, he refused to acknowledge the idea at all. At the very least she looked utterly fed up with the situation. Despite her obvious discomfort, it made him feel marginally better. He was about to refill his now empty glass when his peripheral caught Granger scurrying behind a curtain, only to be followed by McLaggen. Grumbling to himself, he set the tumbler down and strode towards the set of curtains. He barely been here half an hour and already he was having to break up lover's trysts. He balked at the thought. It didn't matter who the students were, that kind of behavior would not be permitted under his watch! And, a small part of him thought, McLaggen wasn't even close to being worthy of laying his hands on the girl.
As he threw aside the curtain he caught the two quickly separating. Rather, he caught Miss Granger practically propelling herself away from the boy. She was breathing heavily, mouth parted and her eyes wild with panic.
"Professor Snape!"
He wasn't sure what made him so angry about the scene in front of him, the look on Granger's face made it clear as day that she wanted to be as far away from the boy as possible, but still he could feel his temper quickly rising. He felt like some kind of jealous lover, determined to keep the Gryffindor girl all to himself. Snape was not one for irrational thought, but perhaps the combination of traumatic revelation and whiskey was skewing his perspective somewhat. He geared up to scold them both and remove a scandalous number of house points when a noise from his right made him grimace. Before he could move away, Cormac McLaggen had doubled over and vomited over his boots. His disgust with the whole situation was lessened slightly when he saw the look of sheer terror on McLaggen's face, but it wasn't enough to let the boy go so easily. A quick flick of his wand vanished the mess, and he stared the boy down with equal parts fury and repulsion.
"Detention, McLaggen, for a month. Report to Filch tomorrow evening. Now, get out of my sight."
The boy didn't need to be told twice, and in the blink of an eye he was dashing back to the safety of the party. Snape looked at Miss Granger, an eyebrow raised.
"Dragon tartare.. Didn't expect it to have such an effect to be honest.." She looked down at the ground.
"McLaggen, Miss Granger? Really?" His voice came out more biting than he would have liked, but he couldn't help himself. She continued to avoid his gaze, not knowing how to answer. She was shifting slightly, and nervously playing with her hands. It was becoming quickly apparent that she would rather be anywhere but at this party, for she looked utterly embarrassed.
"He asked.. I agreed.." Her voice was quiet but still held that dash of defiance that he had come to associate with the girl. It was the voice of someone who didn't want to admit defeat.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he took her arm and led her back to the gathering. As he let her go, he stood for a moment before internally throwing in the towel and murmuring to her, his voice low.
"You should learn your worth, Miss Granger. We both know you could do miles better than him."
He chanced a glance in her direction, and could see she had the slightest smile on her face. It was quickly replaced by a frown, as she turned to meet his gaze.
"About yesterday-"
"Not the time nor the place, Miss Granger. Have a lovely evening." He refused to be dragged into such conversations with a head full of liquor and conflict.
"But-"
He spun to face her, his face devoid of any emotion - perfectly neutral, as it should be. This was what he wanted, wasn't it? To talk to the girl, to ensure she was mentally safe? No, not here, not now. They were in a room full of curious eyes and ears, and he was too good a spy to let a mere girl forget that. Best to re-establish some boundaries, he thought.
"There is nothing to discuss. Now run along to your boyfriend, Miss Granger."
He could see her face drop, and the hurt flash in her eyes, before she turned on her heel and stormed off into the crowd of partygoers. He sighed and cursed himself at the reaction he'd induced, heading back to the bar to grab another drink. Damned temper.
Severus Snape was clearly still a prat, then. Thoughts and emotions swirled in her head unbound, and it was all she could do not to stamp her foot and have what her parents would have called a 'temper tantrum'. Instead, she grabbed another drink and made a beeline for the door. Fresh air - even in the form of the castle corridors - would do her a world of good right now. Give her some time to process the last 10 minutes. Slipping outside, she leaned back against the stone wall of the dungeons and let out a guttural sigh before downing the drink. She felt ridiculous. Here she was, dressed to the nines, feeling the effects of a little too much wine, fighting off a slew of tears and why? Because her Potions Professor - a man known to be uncaring and cold - had sneered at her. Sneered! For goodness sake Hermione, pull yourself together.
She would really need to go back inside. The thought of being in the same room as Cormac McLaggen made her want to dry heave, and even after his run in with Professor Snape she didn't think him smart enough to leave her alone. Small mercies for the man, she thought. She'd all but sprinted away from her 'date', desperate to find somewhere to hide, and yet McLaggen was nothing if not determined. As soon as he'd found her his hands had been everywhere, it made her skin crawl. She still had the unpleasant taste of him on her lips, having not been fast enough to push him away before he'd covered her mouth with his. If the Professor hadn't caught them - why on earth was he there, anyway - she didn't want to think about what might have happened. Shuddering, she took a deep breath and steadied herself, Hermione Jean Granger you're stronger than this.
The sound of a door slamming open, the wood creaking violently as it hit the wall, startled her out of the melancholy she'd been wallowing in. Out strode the man in question, practically dragging a stony-faced Draco Malfoy along with him. As he passed her, he stopped and spun, his face thunderous.
"Back to the party, Miss Granger."
"Of course sir, was just getting some air." He frowned at this, but only lingered a second longer before tightening his grip on the Malfoy boy and striding down the corridor. She watched them fade to shadows before turning to re-enter the proverbial madhouse, but was met with a near frantic Harry as she did.
"Hermione! Snape and Malfoy, where did they go?" His eyes were darting back and forth, manic.
"Down that way," She tilted her head and Harry made to sprint after them, but she grabbed at his arm as he did. "Harry, stop. Why?"
"I know he's up to something, Hermione, and likely Snape's in on it too. This could be my only chance to get proof! Come on," He dug into his dress robes and produced an all-too-familiar cloak. "If we hurry we can catch up without them even knowing!"
Before she could protest he was dragging her along after him, and so she hastily cast a silencing spell on their feet and let him lead the way. If they were to spy on a private conversation, she'd prefer they didn't get caught by the clicking of heels. As they neared one of the classrooms, the faint sound of voices began to grow louder. Harry threw the cloak over them both and, barely taking a breath for fear of the noise, edged closer to the cracked door.
"Let me help you Draco -"
"I don't need your help. This is my task, not yours. He entrusted it to me."
"You know what will happen should you fail? What he'll do to you, your family?"
"I've told you already, it is NONE of your concern." They watched as Snape grabbed Draco's collar once again, pulling him up almost to eye level.
"I made the Unbreakable Vow, Draco.. It is very much my concern.."
Harry would never have picked up on it, but Hermione could hear the sadness in his voice. She would need to study up on whatever an Unbreakable Vow was. She could see Malfoy start to respond, but both were broken out of their conversation by the sound of footsteps further down the corridor. Immediately, Snape and Malfoy were heading towards the door and Hermione had to pull Harry away as quickly as she could just to avoid being run into. As soon as the two Slytherins had left the room, Hermione pulled Harry in, roughly pushing him out of the cloak and away from the door so she could make sure the coast was clear. Satisfied that they wouldn't be disturbed, she took care in closing the door before turning back to the boy.
"That was so reckless Harry!"
Harry looked at her, bewildered. "After what we just heard, that's what you want to focus on?! Hermione they're clearly both working for You-Know-Who!"
Hermione ran a hand through her hair, desperately trying to think of how to respond. It was infuriating, but she didn't know how else to play this one.
"Well, it certainly appears that Draco is… But did you hear Professor Snape? It sounded like he was, well, almost afraid for him."
Harry snorted. "Please Hermione, how can you not tell he's in on this? He all but admitted to being a Death Eater!"
She knew she wasn't going to get him to change his mind. If there was one subject that Harry would never be swayed on, it was his distrust of the two Slytherins in question. Normally she'd push him to see differently, but she was still feeling the effects of too many drinks, and she was tired, so avoiding another argument was much more preferable.
"I don't want to fight about this Harry, but perhaps you should speak to Professor Dumbledore before you think about doing anything rash.." She hoisted herself up onto one of the desks, thankful for the rest. Her feet were killing her.
"..Yeah, okay.." Harry slumped against another desk, running his hands through his hair. "I shouldn't have dragged you along Hermione, I'm sorry."
"If you hadn't you'd probably have collided with the Professor." She smiled, taking out her wand. "Avis." The yellow light shot out from her wand tip, transforming into small pretty birds in the air. They flitted around her, calming her nerves somewhat.
"You're right about that," Harry replied with a grin. "Sometimes it's easy to forget that you're still a solid object underneath that cloak."
The two sat together for a while longer, every now and then making small talk about classes or friends, all the while Hermione's birds darted around the room. Hermione was jolted out of her bubble, however, by the sound of hurried footsteps. Harry clearly hadn't heard them, as he was still chatting away about quidditch next to her. It wasn't until the noise was practically outside the door that Hermione realised that she wouldn't have enough time to grab the cloak. Instead, she gripped Harry's arm to quiet him, and kept her eyes trained on the entrance. The scene that met them made her blood run cold. Stumbling into the room, completely unaware of anyone around them, were the unmistakable - and intertwined - figures of Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown. She looked at them, the two lovers desperately trying to press themselves against each other, mouths barely separating, and something inside of her crumbled. This wasn't right. This wasn't how it was supposed to be, was it?
"Oh! Oops.. seems this room is occupied.." The giggling voice of Lavender pulled her from her spiralling thoughts, and as she focused her eyes back on the couple she could see the blonde girl smirking directly at her. Any sadness she might have felt turned immediately to anger. By now, Ron had noticed them too. His face warred with guilt and lust, and the mere sight of him turned her stomach.
"Mione.."
"Oppugno." She watched as her serene flock of birds sharply turned and began to rain down on the couple. She could hear them both yelling at her to stop but the words might as well have been foreign. Small explosions of yellow crashed into the floor and the walls around them, and it wasn't long before Ron was pulling Lavender back out of the classroom and away from the commotion. She could hear Lavender ranting as they left.
"She's insane, Ron!" She found she couldn't quite care.
"He's a real prat sometimes." Harry had come to stand beside her, and she realised she was crying. Tears had begun to stream down her cheeks and she didn't understand why. Perhaps the loneliness of her situation was beginning to take its toll on her.
"You should head back, Harry. It's getting late." She choked back another sob and leaned forward, head in her hands. She knew the boy wanted to comfort her, but she couldn't bear it. She didn't want to be near anyone, not right now.
"Hermione.. You don't have to worry-"
"GO Harry." She choked back a sob and tried to bring some calm to her voice. "I'll be fine. Just.. I just need to be alone for a bit."
He left her then, that concerned look that he always wore shooting straight through her. When she could no longer hear his soft footsteps she shrank off the desk and onto the floor, her face in her hands, and cried.
Hermione wasn't sure how long she'd sat there on the ground, the tattered remains of her charmed birds laid out on the floor of the classroom. Her throat felt coarse, as if she'd been gargling with salt water. She knew she'd ruined most of what pathetic attempts at makeup she'd applied, as if it had made a difference in the first place. Who was she even trying to impress, dressing up like that? The tiny voice that she could usually suppress refused to be silenced this evening. It whispered that she knew exactly who she wanted to impress, and that she'd been a fool for even entertaining the notion. Letting out a shuddered sigh, she ran her hands through her hair and rested them on the back of her neck. She couldn't will her body to get up and go back to the common room, because one way or another she'd have to face either Ron or Lavender and that was a situation she couldn't bear. Whether it was because she was lost in thought or because of the goblin wine she'd consumed throughout the night she couldn't say, but either way she didn't notice the dark clad figure until he was leaning against the door opposite her, clearing his throat.
"I've known Slughorn's parties to be a taxing affair but I hardly think they call for tears."
Despite herself, Hermione choked back a laugh and rubbed at her eyes. After everything that had happened the previous night, after their awkward run in at the party, he was still here. He never ceased to surprise her, his defensive attitude a complete clash with what she had come to know as normal behind closed doors. The familiarity was a deep comfort even now.
"Sorry sir." She shuffled against the leg of the desk as if to make room for him, although she couldn't quite imagine the ever-composed Severus Snape lowering himself to sit on the ground with her. "It was fairly awful though, wasn't it?"
To her surprise, she watched the wizard cross the room and take a seat next to her, his legs spread out in front giving him the distinct look of a gangly teenager. She stifled another laugh. "I must admit I've been to worse, but this wasn't one of his finer shindigs."
They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments before Snape spoke again.
"Would you.. care to discuss it? I'm afraid it's not the usual setting but my ears are still at your beck and call."
"It appears Ronald is now dating Lavender Brown. Or at least she's letting him stick his tongue down her throat. Either way.." She trailed off.
Hermione looked out around the room, watching as the moonlight from the windows cast shadows along the panels of the walls and the debri of once-magical birds.
"I don't even know why I'm being like this." She choked out a laugh. "I haven't thought about my feelings for Ron in so long. With everything going on, it felt like that part of my life didn't matter. But I always assumed that he'd be available when the time was right, because despite all of his flaws he's still reliable old Ron. For years I always kind of hoped that he was my future.."
"And now he isn't." It wasn't a question.
"It would appear that way."
Snape watched her as she reminisced, pushing the knot in his stomach and the emotions that threatened to emerge firmly behind his Occlumency shields.
"Miss Granger." He started. Emotional comfort was definitely not his bag, but he was determined to try. The witch sitting next to him deserved that much. "I told you earlier to know your worth. I meant it. You should remember who you are, remember what you can bring to this world, and refuse to settle for anyone less than your equal."
"I'm not sure what an insufferable know-it-all like me can bring to the world other than an annoying ability to regurgitate information verbatim and a pathetic need to be admired."
"I think we both know that those things don't define you."
"Perhaps.." She looked up at him, her honey stained eyes locking with his midnight blacks. For what felt like an eternity, she didn't speak. When she did, it was quiet. "What does? What do you see?"
Snape sat before the young witch, unable to wrench his eyes away from her, wrestling with the myriad of emotions behind his shields. Two years ago this situation would never have been a possibility, they were on two completely different wavelengths, two different paths. Even now, after all the time they'd spent together, after all of the recent revelations, he was still warring with how he felt about the situation. There had been no one who he'd subconsciously endeavored to keep in his life as much since Lily, and he was suddenly terrified of history repeating itself. But the pain he'd felt knowing that from the very beginning, their entire companionship - for that was what it was whether he liked it or not - had been built on a lie; he still couldn't understand why it had shaken him as much as it did. This was really why he'd wanted to avoid Slughorn's party, he wanted to keep those pleasant feelings he got when he saw her out of his head forever. It was easy enough to convince himself that those feelings were false, born out of loneliness and the rare occurrence of being treated with compassion rather than disdain. However.. The Amortentia.. Potions always behaved according to rules. They had a purpose, and that purpose couldn't be altered on a whim. He had brewed the Amortentia himself, he knew it was flawless. He knew that it behaved exactly as it was meant to. Therefore he had to believe that what he'd experienced with that potion was real in some way. That even if his head continued to deny it, his heart refused to. It certainly wasn't something he could tell her, not now, probably not ever, but perhaps he could lift her up as best he could.
"I see before me a witch who is brave to a fault, fiercely loyal with kindness and patience for even the most difficult of people. Someone who is highly intelligent, who has a thirst for knowledge that is almost unrivaled, who craves intellectual discussion and academic greatness. Someone who, through no fault of her own, must set her goals immeasurably high just to have a seat at the table. Someone who is desperate to prove that they are worth their place in this world."
Even in the darkened room he could see a faint blush rise on her face. He swallowed heavily. "I suppose you need to ask yourself.. Do you truly believe that you would have an equal partner in Mr. Weasley? Could he even come close to everything that you are?"
She smiled then, a sad smile. A smile that exposed every conflicting emotion she currently held. "No, I suppose not." Leaning back, she stared up at the ceiling, trying to stop the fresh tears that dared to fall. "I don't think anyone would be willing to meet that standard." Snape felt the knot begin to form once more. "I think, deep down, I already knew that he wasn't the one for me. But seeing him there, with Lavender… It hammered home how ridiculously unfair this world is."
He knew exactly what she meant. She had been forced to move her priorities, to focus on the greater good, and in doing so had let the last fragments of her childhood slip away.
"He gets to be ignorant. He gets to forget about everything that happens outside these walls. I can't have that anymore." She was angrier now. "Why did I have to be the one to throw away my childhood? To play protector, to be an adult. And for what? So that at some point in the future I can keep those two alive while they stumble through the war, barely prepared? Why me?!" She began to cry once again. "Why can't I have what he has?"
Unsure of what to do, Snape awkwardly extended his arm around her back in the hopes it would bring her some measure of comfort. He could feel the bare skin of her arm turn to gooseflesh, and he had to bite the inside of his mouth to stop himself from thinking anything untoward. Immediately, she leaned into him and before he could really understand what had transpired he was hugging the witch as her sobs quietened.
"Because you're better than him, Miss Granger." She turned her head slightly to look up at him, but he kept his gaze trained firmly on the classroom door. "Had Mr Weasley possessed a fraction of your intellect, your level-headedness, your forward thinking, perhaps he would have been chosen. But he does not. And so the burden falls to you, as much of a curse as it is a blessing."
They sat quietly again for some time, nestled into his side, listening to the sounds of the castle as it settled down to rest. They both knew how late it was but neither wanted to move.
"Sir.. You should know, myself and Harry overheard you speaking to Draco."
Snape tensed at the mention of his godson. For a short while, he had blissfully forgotten about their conversation.
"What did you hear?"
"Not all of it. Enough for Harry to confirm his suspicions that Draco's up to something. I.. I heard you talk about a vow.." She trailed off. Beside her, Snape exhaled a long breath. "Although I didn't really understand it."
"An Unbreakable Vow is just that. Unbreakable." He shouldn't be telling her this, but at this point what did it matter? "Mr. Malfoy has been tasked with ending the Headmaster's life. The vow ensures I see him complete that task.. In any way possible.."
Understanding dawned on Hermione's face, and she stared up at him in sadness.
"You really don't have a choice, do you?"
"I'd really rather not discuss this with you Miss Granger." He snapped, a little more terse than he'd wanted to be.
"You need to talk about it sir! You can't just close yourself off."
"What would you know about what I need, girl?" He sneered at her, an expression she hadn't seen in private for a long time, but it didn't faze her. Instead, she sat in thought for a moment before speaking again.
"You know.. a wise wizard once told me that if you bottled up your emotions, they would destroy you. That they would 'eat away at every fiber of your being until they become all you know, and they'll change how you view the world'." She smiled at her impression despite the situation. "Don't let them destroy you, sir." She saw him slump.
"Perhaps they already have."
Shuffling away, she pushed herself up from the floor and stood to face him, hands on her hips.
"Don't you dare, Professor. We can't win this thing without you, I can't win this without you, and to do that I need to know that you still have hope somewhere in that heart of yours."
She watched as Snape hung his head, black hair falling to cover his features, to let him hide from her. When he spoke his voice was unusually filled with emotion.
"This.. it is too much. Far too much for one person.."
Dropping to her knees, she sat beside the wizard. With all the caution of one entering a lions' den, she reached out and placed a small hand on one of his legs. She could feel every muscle in his body tense up, but he didn't object.
"I'm only one person too, sir. Against You-Know-Who I might as well be an ant. But I can do my part, I can help in my own way. I can shoulder a fraction of the burden.. you need only ask."
She was waiting for him to lash out again, to make another cruel comment and storm off, but it never came. You could have pierced the silence around them with a blade, heavy as it was. Finally, after an agonizing wait, he slowly moved to place a hand over her own. Her eyes widened and she looked up at his face, for the first time that night it was devoid of any Occlumency shield. Perhaps he had realised that there wasn't a barrier in the world strong enough to hide how he felt. The raw emotion that swam in his eyes was harrowing, it made her want to wrap her arms around him and never let go.
"Just promise me, when it comes to pass.. promise me you'll remember what you felt in my mind."
As she replied it felt like she was promising him the world. Long after they had gone their separate ways, when she lay in her bed staring at her ceiling, she remembered the gentle squeeze he had given her hand as he pleaded, and her heart broke for him.
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