The Università di Magia a Venezia is everywhere and nowhere in venice. It is comprised of multiple libraries and colleges scattered in magically concealed places all throughout venice. The college of transfiguration is located on Campo San Lorenzo. Muggles, when they visit this place, see an unremarkable church- unfinished since the 17th century- and its various outbuildings.
On September the first, Hermione makes her way across the harbour from the Count's palace on the isle of Murano to the college of transfiguration for her first day of her first term at the University. Her heart pounds in her chest as she is helped off the deck of the antique cris craft and onto the paving stones of Campo San Lorenzo. She pauses for a moment to control her breathing and take it all in. Severus, of course, wanted to accompany her on the boat this morning. She had adamantly refused.
"The article in the Prophet is going to make things bad enough for me," she said quite sternly to him over her cappuccino and croissant. "Please let's not make it any worse."
He raised one black eyebrow at her, but his eyes were soft. The corners of his mouth twitched. It was the barest hint of a smile, and Hermione knew she had won the round.
After breakfast, she spent a few agonizing moments in front of her wardrobe. She loved her new witches robes, elegant and understated, but she knew they were too much for university. "Will I be overdressed today?" she called to Severus.
It took him only a moment to appear behind her. "Overdressed?" he mused. "No. The others will be underdressed."
Hermione pursed her lips.
"The other students don't live in a palace," he said, kissing her on the back of the head.
She sighed in resignation. "At least they're dignified," she said. "I do want to be taken seriously." She stared into the wardrobe. Then to Severus, "Pick, please."
Now it was his turn to purse his lips. "On one condition." He picked out a set of burgundy robes. They are, like all her witches robes, high collared with a modest v-neck, fitted sleeves, and free from embellishment. "After class today I want you to call on an old friend of mine. Her name is Lady Hibiscus."
Eager to meet anyone from Severus' mysterious past, Hermione nodded quickly, taking the burgundy robes from him.
Now Hermione stands on the steps of the college of transfiguration. Her first class, unimaginatively called Introduction to Transfiguration, starts in exactly seven minutes. Her course materials are tucked away in her ever present beaded back, dangling from her wrist. The other students swarm around her, some stopping to openly gape. They are dressed as one might expect university students to dress- in various combinations of casual, threadbare robes and muggle clothes. She spots a teacher rushing hurriedly across the square, wearing plain black teacher's robes over his muggle trousers and shirt.
Hermione squares her shoulders. If I'm going to pull this off I have to own it.
As Hermione enters her first class and sits, for the first time in her life, at the back of the classroom, Severus is making his way up a narrow but picturesque street on the other side of Venice called Calle Della Toletta. Past a little bookshop and a lovely little restaurant, (I'll have to meet Hermione here after her meeting with Lady Hib) he arrives in front of a bright red door. The antique wooden sign hanging over it has a carving of a cauldron. The sign reads 'Strega.'
Witch. As Severus raises his hand to knock, the red door swings silently inward.
Inside, a dimly lit staircase leads up to the second floor. It smells faintly of clove cigarettes. The memories evoked by that smell hit him like a fist to the gut. He pauses with one foot on the bottom stair and considers turning around. At the top of the landing another door swings open. A smoky, sensual voice wafts down the dark stairway,
"Severus Tobias Snape. I've been expecting you."
"Is that so, Lady Hibiscus? Have you become a seer in the years I've been away?" Severus begins to climb the stairs in earnest. Too late to go back now.
"Nope. But I read the Daily Prophet."
Severus reaches the top of the stairs. "You haven't changed at all," he says to her in a way of greeting. And it's true. She looks up at him from beneath a mass of curly brown hair, her golden eyes wary. It has been fifteen years since he last saw here, here, on her doorstep. Her lovely hourglass figure hasn't changed. Her face doesn't look a day over forty, although she must be well into her fiftieth decade by now.
"I can't say the same for you, Severus." She looks at him sharply, hands on her hips. "What happened to you?"
"War happened to me," he says. He tries not to sound haggard. He doesn't succeed.
Lady Hibiscus sighs and steps aside, gesturing for him to come into her parlor. "Tea?"
"Please," he says, surveying the room. It hasn't changed much. It's a joke, really. A set or sorts. A place for muggles to come and give their money away in exchange for platitudes and a few old parlour tricks. "I see your scam hasn't changed," he says conversationally as he takes a seat in the chair reserved for her victims.
"We're not having that old argument again!" Lady Hibiscus enters the parlour with a tea tray and sets it down on the table between them. Her tarot deck is in its usual place, with some cards turned over suspiciously. Severus doesn't hold with such nonsense, but he can't help himself. He leans over to investigate which cards the Strega has chosen for the occasion of his visit.
Laid out in seemingly random order are the King and Queen of Swords, the Page of Wands, The Magician inverted, the Tower, The Hanged Man, and the Star. Severus gestures toward the cards, his eyebrows raised.
"I thought you didn't hold with that nonsense," Lady Hibiscus replies, pouring their tea. Severus shrugs. She considers him for a moment. "The King and Queen of swords represent you and your lover. The page of Wands represents how you see her, but that is not who she is. The tower represents both of your pasts. The magician inverted represents the Count, obviously. I don't have to tell you not to trust him. The Star and the Hanged Man represent two possible futures for you and your lover."
Severus grunts.
Lady Hibiscus narrows her eyes at him. "You seduced your student, Severus. You seduced a wounded, vulnerable student. I'm not sure our friendship can continue as before."
"Nobody seduced anyone," Severus replies evenly. "But you're right, anyway. I should never have allowed it to happen."
Lady Hibiscus considers this. Then, "Did you fuck her in Hogwarts?"
"NO!" he replies forcefully.
She considers it.
"For the love of all the Gods, Hib, get the story for yourself. I won't fight you." He sounds tired.
Lady Hibiscus rocks back in her chair. "Do not address me so informally when we are not yet friends again. And- to be clear- did you just invite me to invade your mind? The one thing you refused me even when you belonged to me fully?"
"I did."
She nods slowly and then, without further preamble, raises her wand. "Legillimens!"
His mind is unlike anything she has ever encountered. As she first enters it, she is surrounded by the average clutter of an average life- all lies of course- but the effort he must put into this every minute of every day! Just on the off chance that a strange witch or wizard might come snooping. He leads her past the clutter, through a thick cloud of darkness and then- she is standing in a brightly lit corridor. It is long and narrow, and lined on both sides with locked doors. As she stands there, the locks shatter and fall to the ground. She turns to her left and places her hand upon the first door she finds there. It swings silently open.
Dead Lily and James Potter, with a baby Harry screaming in a crib. She slams the door shut. Next.
Severus is here being tortured by death eaters. Next.
She and Severus are here together. He is kneeling in front of her, his back covered in red welts. She wields a crop over him. Both their faces are alive with excitement. She can see his erection jutting from between his legs. The arousal in this memory starts to affect her and she closes the door in a hurry. Next.
Teaching potions at Hogwarts. Next.
A room full of a string of faceless women. He literally cannot remember their faces. Next.
Albus Dumbledore in his office. This memory is angry. Next.
Young Harry Potter in potions class. Those green eyes. This memory is so painful she gasps as she slams the door shut. Next.
Dumbledore again. The dark mark burns. Fear, anger, pain, loneliness, longing, dark magic- Next.
An enormous snake attacks him, leaving him for dead. A frightened, desperate young woman gives him potion after potion, casts spell after spell. He is dying. She holds his bloody broken body against her own and tells him over and over, "you're good, you're good, you're good." Her sobs tear at Lady Hibiscus but she can't pull away from this room. Then the room goes black. Next.
St Mungo's. There is so much pain in this room it makes it hard to see. Severus is in a bed. The girl with the bushy brown hair sits next to him. Now Lady Hibiscus can see her face. She gasps. It's Hermione Granger. The girl from the Prophet. The student Severus seduced. Hermione is distraught. She is promising Severus she won't let him die alone. The smell of shit and vomit are overwhelming. Next.
Back in the potions classroom. Severus is so angry the memory pulses with it. The girl is there, although it takes Lady Hibiscus a moment to recognize her with her short hair. Also, her demeanor has changed. She is thin, her movements are smaller and more deliberate. There is a hardness in the line around her jaw. Severus berates her in the memory. The girl sadly puts a piece of paper on the desk and exits the room. When she exits, the anger leaves the room with her and is replaced with grief. It is so powerful the tears well up behind Lady Hibiscus' own eyes and she has to shut the door. Next.
Hermione is sitting in the headmistress' office in Hogwarts. She has been crying. She raises her sleeve and wipes the snot off her face. The emotion in the room is disgust and guilt and resentfulness. He doesn't want to face what has happened to him. He wants to forget. Against his better judgment he agrees to let the girl serve a month's detentions. Lady Hibiscus smiles at this. There is no ulterior motive in Snape's mind at this moment. He merely wishes to prepare the girl for her Newts. And maybe teach her to use a fucking handkerchief. Next.
Hermione in Snape's office grading his papers. Their fingers brush and she jerks violently away from him. Here the room is full of regret. She is terrified of him. She is his student, and a good one at that. He wants her to feel safe, not afraid. He decides to try to be kind to her. He's never bothered being kind to his students. He doesn't know if he is capable of kindness. But the girl is good all the way through to her core in a way that he could never be. And she is hurting. The least he can do, he tells himself, is to be kind. He sits down carefully behind his desk so as not to tower over her. She is trembling but stands resolute. He talks to her in the gentlest voice Lady Hibiscus has ever heard come out of his mouth. She eases the door shut. Next.
They are in the Slytherin common room. A student is talking to Severus in a low voice. The memory has been altered- she can't see the student's face. Strange. The student is telling Snape of a very serious and very credible threat on Hermione's life. Something about the sorting hat and old pureblood families. Snape is completely and utterly terrified. And more angry than she has ever felt him. Next.
Snape is on a rampage looking for the source of the threats to Hermione's person. He is tracking down every ex death eater he knows. He uses threats, he uses legilimency, and twice he uses the cruciatus curse. He burns a house down and someone loses a few fingers. One man loses an eye. His search for answers is fruitless. Nobody he can get to knows anything. The ones he can't interrogate because they are protected by the ministry drive him mad. Next.
He is bursting into a small dark room at Hogwarts, wand drawn. He deflects a stunning spell. He barely has time to register the two unconscious boys before Hermione's body slams into his. He crushes her small frame against him, holding her head carefully. He sends his senses out into her body. She is unhurt, but she has been traumatized. He is shaking with anger. She is sobbing with relief. The memory belongs to Snape, so Lady Hibiscus can only feel what Snape feels. And in this moment, with the girl in his arms, her head cradled against his chest, he feels rage, relief, and a fierce tenderness. But there is no desire in him. Lady Hibiscus closes the door when Hermione leaves the memory. She doesn't care to witness what happens next. She notes that the girl is loath to leave the embrace of her professor, and her heart breaks a little for the girl. Oh, honey. Next.
They are in Snape's lab. Many scenes flash before them. They are innocuous on first examination. Hermione is grading papers, brewing potions, helping Snape with his workload. But on closer inspection something is happening. The girl, once terrified and mildly repulsed by her professor, now has a huge crush on him. It's hard to see at first, because she is so restrained in her expression of seems so much older than any student should beLady Hibiscus muses to herself, watching the girl decant a potion for her is nineteen in this memory. Lady Hibiscus starts at his voice. He has kept quiet and calm throughout the process.
Lady Hibiscus pulls abruptly from Snape's head. They are seated in her parlour. "I don't understand," she says. "How could she have still been a student at nineteen?"
"She missed her seventh year at Hogwarts to fight in the war. When the war was over, Harry and Ronald were invited to go directly to auror training. She was too, come to think of it. But Miss Granger was- is- an academic at heart. She wanted to finish her NEWTS. And with her being a war hero, this right of hers to finish school was not questioned."
Lady Hibiscus mulls this over. Severus regards her with a blank expression. "Shall we continue?" she asks. He nods his consent, weary, but resigned. "Legillimans!"
They are back in the potions lab. Hermione now takes every opportunity to stand close to her professor. She revels in his personal space. She studies him from afar and makes no attempt to hide it. On the outside Snape tries to remain as impassive as ever but he slips up a lot. He smiles easily in her presence- even laughs. He gives her points when she excels in her work. He takes the time to explain every detail of every potion and delights in her success. But underneath his carefully contrived countenance, a tempest is beginning to rage. He is proud and protective of her. He is aware of her growing attraction to him and he is ruthlessly trying to deny himself any reciprocation of those feelings and failing miserably.
He hates himself for it. He longs for her to be safe, to succeed, to be able to sleep through the fucking night. Most of all he longs for her to be rid of him, to leave Hogwarts and never give another thought to her surly potions professor. And yet- he also longs for her. Even as he despises himself for it, he longs for her. Lady Hibiscus probes this longing- and when it washes over her it breaks her heart. What Severus is longing for in this moment puts her anger to shame. He doesn't want to fuck her. He wants to hold her- because it is obvious to him that she longs to be held by him. He longs to protect her. He wants her safe and happy. He longs to cure her of her nightmares. Most of all, he sees how alone she feels in her longing- and he wants to tell her that she isn't alone. He loves her. Lady Hibiscus carefully closes the door. Next.
They are back in the potions lab. The scene hasn't changed, but the emotions that mark the memory have. Hermione and Snape are decanting a difficult potion together. Her hand trembles a bit under the weight of the crystal vial. Snape grasps her hand firmly to steady it as he continues to decant the potion. This is Snape's memory, and Lady Hibiscus is experiencing it as he did. She was beginning to suspect he has superhuman senses and this memory confirms it. She can hear Hermione's intake of breath at his touch. She can hear her heart begin to pound. And she can smell the girl's instant arousal.
Snape is screaming inside. Every fiber of his physical being is on fire, ignited by Hernione's reaction to his touch. He hates himself at this moment. And he is afraid. He is fucking terrified. Lady Hibiscus watches him go through the motions with his protege for the rest of the evening. When she finally leaves for her dormitory, he sinks down into a chair. He looks as though he might weep. He wants her and he hates himself for wanting her. He wonders if he will be able to turn her down if she comes on to him. And judging by the state of her body when she is around him, he knows it is only a matter of time until she comes on to him. The anticipation and dread are crushing him with equal force. He feels helpless again for the first time since the war. Lady Hibiscus closes the door. Next.
They are in the infirmary. Snape is bent over Hermione, who is clearly in the throes of a violent nightmare. She awakes suddenly and throws her arms around him. Her relief and his relief are palpable in the room. Snape sits up on the edge of her infirmary bed, bringing her with him, still holding her. Lady Hibiscus feels the energy of the moment turn from relief to arousal in a few seconds. She watches, fascinated and horrified in equal measure as Snape attempts to extricate himself from Hermione's embrace, all the while ruthlessly denying his own lust. Lust that, at this point, literally threatens to tear him in two. The young woman begs him to hold her. It's painful to watch. Next.
He is back in his office, alone. He is writing her two letters. Lady Hibiscus reads them both. The emotion here now is resignation. He knows this relationship will claim his career. He wonders if it will claim his life. He is haunted by the thought that he has somehow taken advantage of her, although he can't see how. He goes back over every detail of every exchange they have had since the beginning of term. He berates himself for every slip up, every compliment, every smile. He sits at his desk, the two completed letters in front of him. He acknowledges to himself that he is helpless when confronted by her desire. His only hope now is to convince her to wait until the end of term before- he doesn't let himself consider that part. It will all be up to her.
There are more doors in the corridor, but Lady Hibiscus can't take them in Hell, that's enough pain for one day. I'm NOT a masochist, thank you very returns to her parlour.
Severus is rubbing his temples. "Had enough?" he asks. "You haven't gotten to the part where I take the killing curse for her and almost die."
Lady Hibiscus looks at her tea. "I'm going to need something stronger than this."
