What is wrong with me? What the hell is wrong with me?!
Hermione was panting frantically, but finally reached the safety of her rooms where she closed and warded the door, then flung herself on her bed.
She had no idea where on earth that boggart had come from. Snape's death is my worst fear? That can't be right. She tried mercilessly to find some other explanation for the scene that she had just faced, but could only come up with the idea that she merely feared the failure that would have come with his death. Right, I would have felt worthless that I- Hermione Granger- had been unable to save him. That has to be right. It just does. Despite that she tried desperately to forget the occurrence, she knew deep down that it had been correct.
If Snape had died, she would have been without the greatest mentor that she had ever known, even though he barely acknowledged her presence those six years before the war. What could a girl only pushing 21 possibly have to offer someone so accomplished? Hermione got off her bed to pace just in time to spot something out of the corner of her eye through her bedroom window. Strutting gracefully across the lawn was a peacock. The beautiful bird seemed to float along the grass without a care in the world- why did it need one when it knew it was one of the most beautiful creatures in the animal kingdom? In that moment, Hermione wished for a second that she could be to Snape what that peacock was to her, 'I just wish Snape saw me like I see you, pretty bird: beautiful, confident, special,' she mumbled, 'Ugh, I sound like an idiot. Swooning over a professor- the infamous git no less. AND wishing I was a bird.'
Not only was she wishing, but she was alone. No one would understand how she felt because there wasn't a single person who had seen what she had that night. She remembered working silently and quickly, all while keeping her face fixed on his glassy stare and trying to ignore the blood pouring through her hands. Those memories haunted her dreams for months, even after Snape had woken up, and they tended to flow in and out of her thoughts semi-regularly. She tried to blame it on the fact that she was a pacifist- she didn't want to see anyone die, but her mind- and her heart got the best of her.
She wiped away the last of her tears and pulled out Hogwarts: A History, something she reserved for the times when she needed comfort, and was just about to settle down when she heard a soft knock and her name at the door. Expecting the worst, Hermione walked slowly to the door, released her wards, and pulled it open. She was surprised to find a very worried looking Ginny Weasley.
'Hermione, what is going on?' she started, 'Last I heard, you ran from DADA crying and no one knew where you went.' Ginny pushed herself through the door, grabbed Hermione's hand, and sat them on the bed. She started again, 'Alright, now spill. This isn't like you. Hermione Granger doesn't cry like that, and she certainly doesn't pass on a chance to kick some arse using a first-year's spell,' Ginny turned towards her friend and waited for a response. However, instead of a carefully put together 'Hermione' thought, the girl started crying all over again. Ginny let her. After a good ten minutes, Hermione finally calmed down enough to apologize for blubbering all over her friend's blouse.
'I'm sorry Ginny,' Hermione sniffed, 'I just can't seem to get a hold of this situation at all. It's so frustrating to not have any idea what to do for once. I'm supposed to know everything, and here I am confused about why Snape's death is my worst fear,' she turned slowly to face Ginny, 'what's wrong with me?'
Despite the fact that Ginny had already heard about the boggart from Harry, she didn't expect Hermione to seem so genuinely upset and confused over the situation and quickly concluded that she legitimately cared for the dungeon bat.
'Hermione,' she started, 'I don't want you to get upset over this, but I think you care deeply for Snape. Deeper than you realized, or ever wanted to admit to yourself. There's nothing wrong with that, I mean we all suffered through a lot and people sometimes find comfort or strength in things they never expected.' Hermione peered up at her friend, 'I think that you need to talk to him, Hermione. This is something that shouldn't be hidden- in fact it can't be hidden because it affects you so much. Your worst fear is his death for bloody sake! Not yours- not even Harry's, but Snape's!' The ginger girl threw her hands in the air as if signaling defeat and then continued softly, 'I can understand why you wouldn't want to face this revelation, but honestly I don't think it'd be healthy to keep it hidden.'
By this point of the conversation, Hermione had already started crying again and only responded with simple nods of her head, 'I *sniff* know *sniff* Ginny, but I *sniff* don't know what to do!' Hermione hung her head and waited for her friend to respond, but instead of encouraging words she heard a loud emTHUMP/em outside the window. Both girls turned towards the thud, where they saw jet black raven waiting impatiently outside. When Hermione didn't move, Ginny moved off the bed and opened the window. The bird ignored Ginny, almost as if ordered to fulfill specific instructions, and flew to Hermione where it dropped a square of parchment.
Ginny, figuring that only one person would send a jet black raven, stood up, 'I think you need to read that privately and really decide what you want to do. I can only give you advice, but it will ultimately be your decision,' Ginny looked at the note being gripped tightly by her friend and continued, 'and I think you should give him a chance. Sure, he's the snarky potions master, but he has to have feelings hidden somewhere in all that black.'
Hermione finally looked up at Ginny and whispered, 'Thank you, Ginny. This means a lot that you don't find this awkward or weird, and please know that I really am considering your advice.'
With that, Ginny smiled, hugged her friend, and left the room closing the door silently behind her.
For a moment Hermione just stared at the note in her hands – Miss Hermione Granger. Of course she knew it was from him. The perfect, distinct handwriting; the faint scent of pine and sandalwood- it was composed of everything she trained herself to recognize about him. Taking a deep breath and expecting something terse, Hermione opened the note and found herself looking at a detailed letter.
Miss Granger,
It seems that the space I have allowed to occur between us since the end of the war has reached uncomfortable levels. While I do not understand the scene I witnessed this morning completely, I truly believe that part of your fear stems from my lack of respect. For that, and for my blatant disregard of your existence I apologize sincerely. As a man of few words, I find it quite difficult to discuss personal matters or extend any gratitude whatsoever. For those flaws, I also apologize.
You are talented and smart, and anyone with half a brain can see the bright future that lies ahead of you. I am afraid that my ignorance has affected your ability to truly move past what happened those few months ago. I do not want to be responsible for the loss of such a brilliant woman, and I want you to know how appreciative I am of what you gave to me that fateful night. Most people would have left me to die. You did not, and that is what separates you from the entire wizarding world, Hermione Granger. Your bravery and strength is unmatched to those twice your age, and yet you act with humility and grace.
We will discuss the matters listed above, but I would like to speak with you when you are ready to do so. I have ordered Noir to wait for a response. Again, I apologize and await your word.
-Headmaster Snape
That letter was the most attention Severus Snape had ever paid towards Hermione Granger, and that fact was not left unnoticed by the teary eyed Gryffindor.
She carefully reread the messaged several times before she closed her eyes. He thinks I'm a brilliant woman. He thinks I'm brilliant AND a woman. Hermione smiled and walked slowly to her desk, where she pulled out a quill and dipped it slowly in her ink pot. She hesitated at first, afraid that she would say too much too soon and settled for a basic response. Well, basic for me, that is.
Headmaster Snape,
I am in receipt of your letter. Thank you for the kind words. While I hardly believe talking about saving a life is best touched upon in writing- you're welcome. I have enclosed my free periods during the day, but I am usually available in the evenings. I seek the library as my haven of choice, so please feel free to contact me when you find yourself the time. I look forward to our conversation.
-Hermione Granger
Hermione sat there and stared at her response, mentally arguing over her word choice for what seemed like forever before Noir lost the battle with patience, grabbed the letter off the desk, and flew out the window. Hermione rolled her eyes, 'They always said pets and their owners have similar characteristics.' She wished she didn't have to worry about whether Professor Snape approved of her, but what scared her most was that she wished he did. She wanted nothing more than his approval and his words of reassurance that she would never have to see her fear become a reality.
Get a hold of yourself, she thought, worst case scenario is that you talk and that's the end of it. If that was the worst case scenario, then why did she feel like that response would be the end of the world? Because you care. But he's your superior and much too old. You can only allow yourself to care for him like you would a father figure. 'Ugh easier said than done,' she replied to her silent thought.
Hermione didn't want him as just a father figure- in fact she couldn't stand to have him as just that, especially not after almost losing him. She wanted to be special. She wanted to be his peacock.