Hermione waited at the corner around Slughorn’s office, her arms wrapping her upper body. The salmon dress was way too light for standing in an empty moonlit Hogwarts corridor in winter, but she couldn’t walk back into the party. She just couldn’t. Not as long as McLaggen was still in there. The already difficult escape would have been in vain then.
Shaking heavily, she hated herself. She froze so much, she couldn’t even concentrate on her thoughts. It was so cold, her throat was constricted by the tension her body was in, just to create some warmth. So much, she didn’t get out a sound when something wide and soft was thrown over her shoulders, covering her from her neck down, way too big for her. It was a black cloak.
Spinning around in shock, it nearly slid off. He had come from behind. Staring up to him, she met with a worried face in half shadow.
“I hope that helps you to think properly so you can tell me what exactly you are doing outside the party in a deserted corridor, when you are only supposed to be either in there or in bed.”
“I – I – was – ”, she stammered.
“On the run?”, he and his Legilimency, Hermione mentally huffed to herself. “There is no need. McLaggen already left.”, really. “Don’t look at me like that. Of course I have seen you fleeing from him. Why are you inviting someone who disgusts you?”
“It – is complicated.”
“Very well,”, he shook his head, looking away. “Will you go back to the party?”
“Um – I – don’t think, I should. He’s – Professor Slughorn is – a bit – ”
“Caned?”, he raised his left eyebrow, sighing at her.
“Yes.”, Hermione moaned.
“Can you recall one moment he wasn’t at least a bit drunk?”, Severus sighed again. “All right then. Unless you nevertheless wish to go back to his office, you would be well advised to not stand here alone.”
“Yes.”, she attempted to give him back his cloak. “But I’m not alone, am I.”
“Keep that on. I will bring you to your common room.”
“What? Oh – thank you.”
“Nothing to thank. Thank who has managed to have two weeks of my evenings after the holidays with the word `detention´ written across. If there was a free space, it would have your name on it already. So be thankful and rather come with me, silently.”, she gulped.
“One more thing – um – Severus.”, she aspirated, checking their surrounding when he turned to walk ahead.
“Yes?”, she followed at his left, trying not to step on the massive fabric, not used to wearing high heels.
“Your cloak’s a bit big for me.”
“Nit-picking, are we?”, he snorted.
“Not at all. It’s just – it drags and might get dirty from the floor.”
“Dirty from the floor? Dirt- honestly, you nearly died from cold but worry about a little bit of dust on my cloak?”, he grunted. “Lovely. As if the school’s laundry was closed and I incapable of cleaning such myself either. Dirty from the floor. Tz. Like that wouldn’t happen every day.”
The next word she heard from him was the password in front of the Fat Lady. He then only wished her a good night though and took back on his cloak, leaving her in the common room with her thoughts.
~~#~~
If it hadn’t been for Harry being around to wish her a Happy Christmas, she would have thrown a glove at Ron and asphyxiated Lavender. Both of them were snogging carelessly behind Harry’s back, right when she was facing him for goodbye. Harry flung his head around at discovery of her expression, eyes staring with fury across his shoulder.
“Damn.”, he muttered. “Couldn’t they for once – make it at least look more delicate? It’s like two slugs in battle!”, shaking his head, he turned back to Hermione, finding her quietly laughing to the cobbles.
“At least there’s one delightful thing about it. She’s going home too. I don’t think she’d survive New Year otherwise. I’d likely – ”
“You’re sure you’re not coming with us? You’d have him for yourself,”, Harry scratched his neck, like he often did when he brooded about something he knew to be unnecessary to consider; unconsciously, that much she had figured by now.
“Having to listen to him dreaming about her? No, thanks. I like Christmas biscuits. It would be a shame to dump them into the sink right away.”
“How true.”, she noticed that something about his own words made him ponder, but didn’t mean to stab into his privacy all too much. “But you’ll be all alone here?”, Hermione sighed.
“Maybe – maybe not – who knows. I think I do good to enjoy the castle as long as it still exists.”, she gave an askew smile. “Voldemort’s known for loving to revamp buildings in a very drastic manner, isn’t he?”, they couldn’t help having a short laugh. “Take care, Harry.”
“You too. And – ”, he threw a thumb over his shoulder, “Maybe I can make Fred and George torture her out of his bewitched mind.”, the way he sad the last two words, froze her for a moment.
“Yeah.”, she sighed nevertheless. “They’d have my blessing for torture, in this case. Bye.”
“See you.”
Harry waved and jumped onto the train shortly before the doors fell shut noisily. With a whistle and a lot of puffing and even louder noise, the steaming scarlet snake left for its journey to London, and Hermione with her thoughts.
The long walk back from Hogsmeade’s one-platform train station felt rather relieving. Following the tracks of the carriages which had brought them down, she drifted off deeply into memories and considerations, trying to avoid thinking of Ron and Lavender though. Walking mindlessly up some staircases, past rows and rows and even more rows of portraits, carelessly carrying her lilac woollen scarf, gloves and cap in her right hand and her ochre winter coat partly unbuttoned, she finally came to halt next to an open classroom door, no idea how her feet had brought her exactly up there. A very familiar voice echoed out, sounding utmost delighted. And maybe even – drunk. More than usual.
“Ya can tell me whatever ya like ter, ’t will not convince me.”, Horace Slughorn sang from inside the Defence classroom. “Tha boy’s got talent. Even a great master of ziss subshect like you should be able ter see what a bonny boy he is.”
“He might have talents, indeed.”, another too familiar voice. “Though I know him enough I can clearly say his talents don’t reside in Potion-Making yet, but rather in knowing his ways to sneak across borders.”, he huffed.
“Now, now, Severus!”, Slughorn laughed. “Don’ be so grumpy!”, he sad that in a way Hermione could see his round belly bumping up, even though she couldn’t get a single glimpse on what was going on in the room from her position; her feet seemed to refuse moving on. “Have a ssip as well?”
“No, thanks. I don’t drink alcohol. You should know that perfectly well, like a number of other things.”
“One ssip won’ kill ya.”
“I said, I don’t drink.”
“I’ss a great vintage, Sev’russ. Ya surely don’ want ter miss such a chanse. Soon i’ss gone.”
“Again, I – ”, he sounded irate now.
“He said he doesn’t drink.”, suddenly Hermione found herself in the classroom, the two teachers whipping around, looking as surprised as she did about her unconscious move. “Sir.”, she added, pulling herself together, since she had no choice as to encounter the situation she had brought herself in unintentionally. “You’d better accept.”, due to the black curtains hanging half into the windows this school year, everything was in dim light and gave the situation a gloomy touch.
“Miss Granger!”, Slughorn sang. “Not going home?”
“My parents are off to – ”, she swallowed, “A safe place. I considered rather not bringing them in danger.”
“Bringin’ ’em in danger, dear? How could a smart lady like ya bring ’er beloved parents in danger?”, he chuckled. “Well, would ya like tryin’ ziss peccculiarly fast disssappearin’ divinity?”, he waved with the silver goblet and almost empty bottle of wine in his hands, still not moving a thou away from the teacher’s desk he stood next to. “As ya may have heard, it doesn’ kill.”
“Apparently not.”, murmured Hermione. “Not yet.”
“Very well. Iss ’ere anythin’ ya need, dear? Or why d’ya happen to step into an empty classroom in which two colleagues ’re havin’ a private lil chat?”
“I – just happened to.”, she watched Severus turn back to the window he stood at, covered in a usual black cloak reaching the floor. “Um – Professor?”, his face looked more sallow than usual, lit by the white snow outside, and the half shadow caused by the curtains made his black hair and clothes appear as dark as the darkest night.
“Yess, dear?”, Slughorn gargled after having taken another gulp, examining the empty goblet by holding it above his head, upside-down. “A shame.”, he whispered, shrugged and refilled it.
“Would you mind if I had a word with you?”
“Sure, sure. Wha’ssit, Miss G-.”, he noticed that she still fixated Severus who didn’t take his eyes off the snowy school grounds.
“If you excuse, Horace – it seems, Miss Granger refers to me, rather than you.”
“Is that so?”, his eyes moved between them, but Hermione said nothing on it. “Well, anyway, mind my words, Severus. Tha students ’re out. Enjoy some fresh air.”
“Why should I?”, he mumbled. “You don’t either.”
“Me? I’m far older than ya. An’ as I heard, less immune ter cold weather. Didn’ ya live in Romania fer some time?”
“It was Ukraine.”, he puffed. “In the south. And Rügen had been more pleasure than what I have to watch you doing with your life.”, he added as low as only Hermione could hear him.
“Oho! So ya speak Ukrainian?”
“Not as good as Russian.”
“Really? Would ya mind – ”, Severus muttered some sentences neither of the others understood, but it was definitely Russian.
“How fasssinatin’. An’ would ya translate that?”, he beamed.
“Verbatim or circumscribed?”, the tension was almost touchable.
“Jus’ as ya like.”
“Whatever Miss Granger seems wanting to discuss, is quite obviously meant for me and me alone.”, he hissed coldly through his teeth, his lips being the only part of his body that moved. “So grab your wondrously fast disappearing death tonic as well as your feet and escort them to your splendour office, please.”, Slughorn’s smile froze, Hermione blushed. “And keep your hands off Harry. Your thoughts too.”, Severus visibly gritted his teeth behind his once more closed lips.
There was this utterly cold feeling again that she had noticed back then when he had threatened Umbridge – as if an invisible Dementor was gliding through the room. Finally getting that he was not to mess with Severus today, Slughorn started pacing towards the door, having another glance at each of them as he did so, as well as right before he left the room. Once out and away, Severus lowered his head and his eyes fell shut, drained. The cold faded away. Carefully, Hermione closed the door, not taking her eyes off him.
“Severus?”
He looked up again, but not at her. Slowly she walked towards him, coming to stand at his left, looking outside as well. Thick untouched snow, freshly fallen overnight, covered the grounds. The sky was of an almost evenly light grey. Still, snow was falling from it. She watched the flakes pass the old window, assembled of handmade glass rhombi.
“I really just happened to walk past the classroom, you know?”, she whispered, but he didn’t react. “He can be totally annoying. Yes – he means it well – but he – Severus?”
He had turned and walked to the teacher’s desk, leaning against it, his hands on the edge of the tabletop and his eyes wandering over the students’ desks and benches. Concerned, she went over, stopped in front of him and looked up, a little less than usual since he was leaning rather leisurely. However, he gazed right past her.
“How are you doing it?”, Hermione asked softly. “How can you suck the warmth out of a room?”, no reaction. “Is that how you scared Harry’s aunt away?”, he wouldn’t answer. “You know, you’d really need some fresh air.”, she considered. “You look rather pale.”, his eyes zoomed at hers.
More and more, a smile drifted into his whole face, becoming a bright grin. Eyes closed, he tilted his head back, chuckling. Noticing what she had just said, she couldn’t help sharing his amusement.
“I think, you just made the joke of the century.”, he snickered, opening his eyes again, though still turned to the ceiling. “Rather pale. I. Ingenious.”, he pinched his eyes with another chuckle, dropping his head to his chest, causing it to be covered with his freshly washed, bushy but shiny hair.
“I – ”, Hermione started, squinting her eyes too, her mouth widely open. “You – you know – I – I meant – more pale than naturally.”, she laughed and he finally looked at her.
“Are you sure?”
“Um – ”, she giggled, “No.”, a grin as broad has his had been before, it had transformed to a bemused smirk on her lips. “Not anymore.”, in fact, he was flushed like she had never seen him.
Raising his head once again, he looked at her, slowly calming down. Not fully dropping his smile, he lightly bit, licked and sucked his lips without noticing, watching her study his face in thoughts, her own lips vaguely ajar. Then, his smile was gone and a second later he turned his head sadly to the left, breathing in and out deeply, while his eyes moved around slow, not really finding a place to look at.
“You should do that more often.”, she whispered. “Though gotten used to your usual mood, it surprises me to see that, but I must say, a smile suits you far better than this bitter or sad expression you normally carry around – or that look of blank hate.”
A single chuckle with a quickly coming and going smile. Giving him a short smirk, she turned away and paced back to the window, where she gazed outside. He still looked at some spot between floor and wall, angular to his left.
“He’s right.”, she panted. “Slughorn, I mean. Almost everyone’s gone home. The few who decided to stay, won’t leave the castle. I could see it in their faces. They’re afraid. Better stay inside, spending time with those of their classmates that didn’t leave either.”, she considered for a moment, “Get out for a day or a half. Leave these walls. It would do you good. A tree – or a roof – but just don’t stay curled up in this huge prison.”, his head turned to her, though his eyes wouldn’t fully rest on the girl. “What about Hogsmeade?”, she spun around. “We could go to Hogsmeade!”, it came out fast.
“We?”, he breathed.
“What?”
“You – just said – we.”
“Did – did I?”, her eyes gaped open, between being unsure and embarrassed. “Sorry – I – ”
“Are you asking me out?”
“I – no – I – ”, she moved her free left hand through her curled brown mane.
“Are you actually asking me out?”, he chuckled, left eyebrow and corner of his mouth raised; one more chuckle and he directed his look to his clean black shoes, then only his eyes straight across the room.
“Severus – I – ”, she muttered, dropping her shoulders.
“All right,”, he said in a higher tone.
“What?”, she wasn’t entirely sure whether he had just said that.
“All right.”, he repeated, smiling at her, visibly flattered and raised from the desk.
“You – mean it?”, her eyes nearly popped out.
“Don’t look at me like you have seen an Inferius,”
“So we – actually go – ”, she made an attempt to point at the door, but strangely failed.
“Why not? I mean, I wouldn’t know what to do with my day anyway, would I? So yes. We go. Though, just not to Hogsmeade, please.”
“Where else then?”
“Hmm. I think, I might know a place.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”, he nodded with a convinced smile, apparently happy, but it didn’t reach his sad eyes. “Are you comfortable with those or would you like to get something more warming?”, he lazily pointed at her clothes.
“Um – yes. I’m fine like this.”, she answered, waving the pieces in her right hand in the same manner.
Nevertheless, they had just walked downstairs next to each other, without exchanging a single word or look. Both were too deeply in thoughts for noticing the people in the portraits watching them pass by with confused interest. After what felt like hours, they reached the cold Entrance Hall and Severus stopped so Hermione could dress properly. The doors had been opened to let in some fresh air and bits of snow had been blown inside, forming little heaps and waves. Opened as well, the Great Hall was empty and silent. All tables cleaned. Though the floating candles, torches at the walls and the big fireplace were lit so it wouldn’t get too cold for lunch.
Severus also took out his notorious pouch and rummaged for something that appeared to be a black woollen scarf and a thicker cloak which he put over the cloak and robe he already wore. After he tucked the pouch back in, he wrapped the scarf around his neck in seemingly trained precision, leaving the parts below a neat knot hanging down over his chest exactly equal in length. Somehow that managed to amuse Hermione, but he decided to ignore her. Catching herself yet a bit disappointed, she followed him through corridors, past the greenhouses and lastly outside.
In silence, he led her through the few gently falling snowflakes, down – to Hagrid’s house. But he turned shortly before, towards the woods. Noticing she had stopped walking, he looked back and came to halt with a couple of steps more, half turning to her. It was a part of the forest Harry and she had fled into with Buckbeak. Trying to get her moving on, he held out his left arm. She was glad he had made smaller steps, almost shovelling the snow away so it was easier for her to follow. However, she stumbled over and landed in the white with a snort. Slightly annoyed, she wiped the snow off her face and felt two strong arms pulling her up with ease, then meaning to get the rest off her clothes.
“Thanks.”, she sighed, cleaning what he hadn’t seen or wanted to.
“Not worth mentioning.”, he smirked. “Come on. It will be easier now. There isn’t that much snow in the forest.”
“Where exactly are we going?”
“You will see soon enough.”
Dry, frozen needles, leaves and branches in various shades of browns cracked and crackled beneath their shoes. Every now and then; just not often enough so she wouldn’t fall over again; Hermione looked up into the sleeping trees. Hardly any snow was falling through and it was a lot warmer than outside the forest. Everything looked similar. Trees over trees over trees. Yet at one point she thought she had seen something blue shimmer in some distance, before she nearly stumbled over one of the countless roots, and her mind was brutally forced back to the monotony. He however, seemed to know exactly where to go. He brought her down the hill, further and further.
Suddenly the ground was flat and Hermione stumbled again, looking up. Just a few more trees. She could see the lake. As sudden as the hill had ended, they stood under the last conifer. Outside the branches, a bit of snow covered some low brown grass, rocks and roots. The whole lake was frozen and partly covered in snow as well. Everything in front of them was of different shades of bluish grey, light grey, brown, black and of course white. They had a quite broad view on the Black Lake from where they stood.
Hermione had never been so close to the loch in winter. She stepped forward, to his right, like him, letting her eyes wander across the surface, listening to the beat of her own heart, her breath, a soft wind whistling farther away and the falling snow. Every once in a while the ice would make a muffled cracking sound.
“That’s just – beautiful!”, she whispered astonished, after far more than a minute.
“It is.”, he nodded sadly, then turned around.
With big interest, she watched him searching in his black and purple pouch again and couldn’t believe her eyes when he got out a large thick rug, different kinds of pillows and cushions and a big blanket, arranging everything in a very comfortable looking manner beneath the tree, on a snow free space, leaning the pillows and cushions against the natural root wall of said tree.
“Honestly? Are you sure you’re a man?”, she giggled when he had sat down and pulled the blanket over his legs, offering her the place to his left. “Only a woman would have that much hidden in her bag.”
“Now don’t be so mean.”, he smirked, helping her under the blanket.
“What else have you got in there?”, he opened the pouch again and pulled out a closed can covered in knitting plus two cups.
“Fancy some tea?”, he opened the can, pointed his wand inside and the tea began to steam.
“That – is – not – real.”, she laughed. “You can’t be serious. You got that in there all the time?”
“It varies.”
“Now don’t tell me you have biscuits too.”, with a broad grin he pulled out a metal box.
“Cinnamon, apple and chocolate.”, he winked.
“Dumbledore definitely had some bad influence on you,”, she just couldn’t believe it was actually secluded Severus Snape sitting next to her, not the very old odd man Albus Dumbledore, but after all he had surprised her often enough before.
“Maybe.”, he filled the cups, handed one to her, opened the box with the biscuits and placed everything except his own cup between them.
“Spearmint.”, Hermione mumbled, sniffed and took a small sip of the hot tea. “That’s a joke.”, he couldn’t restrain a little self-satisfied smile.
“No. We just happen to have a bit more in common than loving someone we cannot be together with.”
Taking it as the truth; since he had returned to staring out at the lake; Hermione felt a bit weird. How could two so very different people have an essential and a rather meaningless thing in common? Well, he apparently liked more than just the taste and smell of spearmint. His office, where glasses with the ugliest content left space, was filled with loads of different books and he had said that he was reading a lot indeed. And he had hunted best marks as a student.
“As for your question, I decided to connect that pouch to all of my cabinets, cupboards, chests, shelves and wardrobe.”, her eyes widened. “Unfortunately I still manage to make a mess every now and then. Sorting inside the pouch is horror. I have to handle the chaos in my real surrounding then. One of the things I thought I could get done properly over Christmas.”
“So – what is it actually? The magic on the pouch?”
“An Undetectable Extension Charm, now interconnected with various objects meant for storing use.”
“That sounds very complicated.”
“Maybe. But I can tell you, the spell itself was by far not as challenging as making the connections work.“
He already drank the rest of his tea, put the cup back into the cupboard connected to the pouch and slid down, newly arranging the pillow and cushions on his side of the rug. Only his head looking out, he laid flat on his back, crossing his fingers on his stomach beneath the blanket. Holding her cup with both hands, Hermione just looked at him lying next to her, eyes closed and a little, somewhat happy smile on his lips.
His shoulder-length black hair was now spread like a corona. Looking at it from such short distance; like before in the classroom; she noticed he had actually very beautiful hair. It wasn’t greasy now at all, but looking silky and soft, yet still a bit bushy, as well as thick and slightly waved. She bet that if he had grown it longer, the waves could really be seen – and guessed it might be standing away as messy as Harry’s when cut short. After all she had seen it in sorts and in their fourth year. Harry had been really lazy and not let his hair cut as often as usual, so it had actually flattened out a bit. Now she wondered whether Harry cut his hair himself or, if not, who did it for him.
“Do you cut your hair yourself?”, she asked, breaking the calm silence.
“No, the scissors do. Why?”, Severus didn’t open his eyes.
“Just – ”, Hermione needed that pause, “The scissors do.”, she whispered with a chuckle but continued aloud. “Just wondering. You know, it – um – looks really beautiful recently.”, Hermione slightly blushed.
“That is maybe because I decided to wash it more frequently.”, there was no change in his emotionless expression, though after some seconds neither could avoid having a giggle. “Do you cut it yourself as well?”, if she already had to talk about hair, he would let her be satisfied for his own good.
“Yes. I’ve been doing that since I was late thirteen.”, and there she went, as he had expected. “The first tries went terribly wrong. When I noticed what it looked like from behind, I was totally shocked.”, oh the teenage girls’ tragedies, he inwardly smiled.
“Using two mirrors is a great help.”
“Figured that out by now.”, Hermione sighed. “And I’m glad I found something to tame it with. Ginny gave me a tip. You know, unlike her brothers, she would have her mother’s messed old-broom-like mane on her head. And such would mine be too.”
“Both suits you.”
“Um – thank you?”, she was not sure what to think of that. “But I rather prefer not to look like a broom. Especially since those don’t seem to like me. I suck at flying on a broomstick.”
“Just a matter of training.”
“Perhaps. But you would also need a talent for it at a certain extent.”
“True. Someone should have told James. The only talent on a broom he had was bombarding me with balls when I was about to get the Snitch.”
“Wait – you were in the Quidditch team too? I – had no idea – ”
“Maybe because that talent of his made us lose all the time? There wasn’t a single match against Gryffindor in which he didn’t break at least one of my bones. And I was too generous to – I healed them myself, or let Lily do it in worse cases. So mostly, nobody knew unless they heard one cracking. He had a firm hit. No other Hogwarts Chaser was as consistent at using the Quaffle rather for hunting the other teams’ players than scoring. Except probably, Marcus Flint. I wonder why he never wanted to be a Beater, actually. But I’m glad, he didn’t. Imagine the battlefield.”
“Tell me – why is it that guys are so fond of babbling about Quidditch?”
“It has come to my ears that Ginny Weasley does that too.”
“She sometimes literally has to be like a guy, considering the many brothers she has. But that’s not the point. And she’s a player now.”
“It is a tense game and a lot of fun to play – if you aren’t rivals with your own brother,”, he noted.
“Still – it’s brutal in some ways.”
“So is Wizard Chess. And you don’t try to deny having grown a slight favour for both. Even if you don’t notice it yourself, I do see your euphoria.”
“You wish.”, she snapped, finally taking her eyes off his face, now looking across the lake where a couple of crows sat down in the trees at the shore.
“Admit it.”, Severus snickered through his nose only.
“No, I won’t.”
“Say it. `I like Quidditch and Wizard Chess´.”
“I will not.”, she said, very punctuated.
“Come on.”, he grinned.
“I won’t say that I like Quidditch and Wizard Chess.”
“Ha!”, a triumphing laugh. “You said it!”
“I – what?”, her head rushed to the right, her eyes widely open on his face again, seeing a broad grin on his mouth and now opened eyes. “That – you loathsome Grindylow!”, Hermione moaned, grabbed a cushion and placed it right on his face, then clutching all of her fingers around her nearly empty teacup.
“Detention.”, he smiled into the cushion, but sounding serious.
“What?”, she gasped.
“You just attacked a teacher with a cushion. One point to Gryffindor for your courage and detention after lunch. You chose the place.”, he turned his head to the left so the cushion would fall in between them and he could have a look at her flabbergasted face.
“Second – what?”, she raised an eyebrow and drank the last sip of tea. “That’s unfair! I want at least a point off for that!”
“All right. One point from Gryffindor for your extraordinary tenacity on trying to keep our picnic secret.”, she let out a blow. “More tea?”
“Hmm?”
“Would you like another cup of tea?”
“Oh – no, thanks. Maybe later. What time is it?”
“Are you in a hurry?”
“No. I’m just curious.”, he pulled his silver pocket watch from his robe.
“Half past ten.”
“Already? Wow. Interesting, how time flies.”, she startled with surprise, having caught sight of his hand held up. “What – ?”
“You may give me the cup if you don’t want to hold it.”
“Oh. Thank you.”, and the second cup went back into the cupboard inside the pouch. “Um – is it comfortable? Lying there, I mean?”
“Would I do it if it wasn’t?”, he winked. “Unless you believe I have become sadomasochistic, now finding great pleasure in torturing my spine,”
Without further ado she crawled under the blanket as well and laid down, gazing up into the branches. It felt strange, lying fully dressed in winter clothing under a blanket, beneath a conifer right at the Black Lake, a day before Christmas and – next to –
“Severus?”, calling a teacher – and him of all teachers – by his given name was like a smack with a heavy book in the face at last, telling her that life wasn’t just the running-straight-forward-flawlessly-trip she had expected back then on the train when telling Ron to clean his nose.
“Yes?”
“Thank you for showing me this place. It’s absolutely beautiful here.”
“Thank you for making me do so.”
They turned their heads to each other, just to find their view blocked by the dark red cushion. With a quiet giggle, Hermione took it and held it up, eyeing it as dreamingly as Luna Lovegood might have done.
“Magnificent.”, now she looked past the cushion, studying the tree with only her eyes moving.
“Yes. How very much you look not like yourself now. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought you’d inhaled a little bit too much love potion.”
“What? Hey! I mean the branches! The way they grow – the pattern they form – ”
“I know.”, he smiled awkwardly. “I just had to point that out. But you are right. Nature is indeed magnificent.”
Hermione dropped the cushion behind her back and they did what it had prevented first. Thereby some bundles of hair fell into Severus’ face and he immediately wiped it behind his right ear, leaving just the shorter strands to fall onto his nose. She caught herself having to admit that it wasn’t only his hair but that he was really not as ugly as he had appeared to be. In fact, she had always found that he was really beautiful at sec– well, it must have been the thousandth look, but still. He wasn’t the slimy beast everyone else saw in him. They just didn’t dare to study him closer. And she, confessedly, noticed that for what ever reason, he seemed to have become more – handsome, actually, over the past two years.
The innocent looking, thoughtful half smile on his lips at the very moment, made her wish she could read his mind as well.
“You are alone, aren’t you?”, he asked very quiet, though not whispering yet.
“What do you mean?”, she fully turned her body to him.
“In your dormitory. None of the Gryffindor girls in your class is staying here over the Holidays, is that correct?”
“Yes. All of them are gone. There are hardly any Gryffindors left at all, not only from my year. As far as I’ve noticed, it’s the same in the other Houses. Most people want to spend as much time with their families as they can. They fear that they might not have much to go. Even though Dumbledore’s still alive, he can only protect Hogwarts, not the people outside.”
“What is it like to you? I am usually alone, you see, but you – ”
“It feels kind of dull, to be honest. Everything is so quiet – so empty. Yes, it normally is around Christmas, but this time it’s a little too quiet. It feels like death is circling the castle and the teachers try to fight it back by scaring it away with shiny decoration.“, he nodded.
“Yes, the air seems to be particularly glistening with a golden shimmer now. I wonder whether it is Filius who overtrumped himself for no one or if it is actually the castle, as you say, willing to compensate all the fear among the remaining students – and staff.”
“Say, I always asked myself – is there something like – a teachers’ bathroom? You know, Prefects have a special one. So I thought – ”
“No.”, he laughed shortly. “There is no common bathroom for the teachers. But there is a hidden door in every office, leading to each teacher’s private rooms, which would be a bedroom and a lavatory.”
“Really?”, she was slightly amazed.
“Yes.”, her astonished face amused him a bit. “The privilege of being a teacher.”, he winked. “And of course there is Salazar Slytherin’s little paradise. But I probably should not have mentioned.”, he chuckled on the sight of her questioning eyes. “He had built himself a nice swimming pool in the Dungeons, including a small waterfall. Albus had discovered it when he had been in his fifth year and it appears, I have been the only one since, who caught him sneaking in.”
“Interesting.”, she considered. “So – um – about that detention-thing – are you asking me out now?”
“Maybe?”
“Er – ”
“You don’t need to spend your time with me. I only suggested it, in case you have nothing to do. But if you have – I would actually be a bit grateful. Then I could get rid of my mess even before tomorrow and just – do nothing during the Christmas days – ”
“All right. Thinking about it, I do have some work to do.”
“Which is?”
“Lately I wasn’t really in the mood to keep my things in order either. My trunk is a mess as well and I’m afraid my papers lost their usual chronological sorting. Just yesterday I found an essay from second week Transfiguration between the most recent Arithmancy homework.”, she panted.
“Then it is sorting-afternoon, I suppose.”, he said, looking back up into the tree.
“I recall, you said your parents met in the fifties?”
“How does that connect to our recent untidiness?”
“It – not at all.”, Hermione laughed. “It just popped into my mind.”
“Well, yes. Why?”
“When were you born?”, that came straight out.
“Does it matter for you?”
“No – it’s just – we are friends now, aren’t we? I mean – ”
“I never said, we are. But if that is what you want – ”, he pulled an emotionless face.
“B-but you – said – I could call you – I mean – doesn’t that – make us – ”
“Forgive me.”, he chuckled. “I somehow – like it when you are confused. Surprisingly, I have never seen you more confused than when you are with me. That is – sort of a nice compliment.”, now she could have sworn to see a faint pink on his cheeks.
“Don’t say I look – cute – when I’m confused.”, her eyes widened once more.
“I – no!”, he moaned. “I didn’t say that at all. Who said that you look – ”
“How come you think someone said that to me?”
“You just blushed.”
“So did you!”
“I didn’t.”, he tried to look away without being too suspicious, but terribly failed.
“I’ve seen it.”, she snapped. “And Ron said it. Once. Very – randomly. Probably not knowing he actually said it.”, she rolled onto her back, crossing her arms under the blanket. “Certainly not even believing himself.”, she muttered. “Or meaning it. Wait – did you just say you take it as a compliment if I get confused by you?”
“It is not easy to confuse you.”, he mumbled.
“Maybe that’s true. At least it’s not the first time I heard that. Second – I wanted to ask you something – oh yes. When were you born?”
“So it does matter to you.”, he smirked.
“No – it’s only – I know all of my friends’ birthdays and you seem to know mine, right? And – ”
“Not only a wandering encyclopaedia, spellbook and advice booklet, are you? But also a calendar now?”, it was a well known bored tone he spoke in.
“I – oh.”, it clicked. “Sorry. You probably don’t want to – ”
“January ninth.”, he said shortly.
“Tell me. But that’s alright. You don’t need to. You – what?”, she noticed.
“January ninth.”, Severus repeated, almost singing.
“Oh – okay – thank you – ”, she aspirated hesitantly. “That’s not far ahead!”, she paused for some seconds until it downright shot from her mouth without breathing. “How old will you turn – I mean – what year are you – you know – I always wondered how old you are – I always wanted to know – you know, you seem so young – and – with Harry being your son and all – I wonder even more, because it would – ”, she found herself panting heavily through his flat hand.
“Calm down.”, he smiled, half worried, half bemused and slowly pulled away his hand to let her breathe. “You don’t need to be so embarrassed.”, Hermione briefly flushed, noticing that he almost laid on her. “Ninth of January, nineteen sixty.”, he whispered gently. “I will turn thirty-seven in two and a half weeks. Lily had been only nineteen years old when she married James and we were twenty when Harry was born. It was war, Hermione. Like now; just as you agreed; people didn’t know how much time they would have left and acted right away, living every moment as if it was their last.”
He had spoken with his right hand on her left shoulder, looking deeply into her eyes. Then he softly laid his hand on her cheek for just a short moment, turned away and got up. Paralysed, she watched him putting pillow after pillow and cushion after cushion back into his pouch.
His hand had been surprisingly warm. Her fingers were cold, even though she wore gloves. He turned to her, offering his right arm.
“Get up.”, he smiled barely visible and with a sad touch. “It is time for lunch.”
After taking his hand and being pulled to her feet easily, she continued watching him packing the rest. With a last gaze over the lake, he turned to the forest and started walking, only to stop after some feet, looking back.
“What’s it like?”
“What is what like?”, the girl gulped heavily.
“To kill.”, she gargled; he lowered his head, squinting – was it regret?
“A – can’t tell you.”, he aspirated, shook his head and looked away along the shore.
“Why not?”, Hermione whispered. “You could tell me that you did it but you can’t – ”
“I cannot tell you what it would be like for you. How do you expect me to know what doing something as horrible as this would cause inside you when you haven’t experienced anything similar yet? Hermione – whatever may happen – ”, he paused for some seconds, then continued even lower than before, “Try to avoid it as long as you can.”
There was a dull silence, draining all the happiness from them. It felt like a hundred greedy Dementors were circling them, ready to suck out their souls with a sick pleasure. Though she could tell from his expression that he wouldn’t have minded at all. That made her even more sad than being aware that he had killed many people. It had been war. Soldiers do kill in war. Whether to defend or to obey orders, they do. And mostly nobody remains to ease their pain. Nobody who could say they experienced the same. Comrades wouldn’t look their equal friends in the eyes, too scared of waking the memory. No, she didn’t know what it was like and looking at him was enough to indeed tell her she was to postpone that experience as far into the future as possible, if not to never.
“Do you come with me?”, he asked softly.
Biting her lip once and giving the frozen – White Lake a last glance, she followed him back up to the castle in silence. They reached the yard in the moment the bell rang. It was twelve o’clock and really time for lunch. So he hadn’t stood up because of her. He had known exactly how long it would take them to get back. Looking around, she found themselves completely alone.
“I – what was it like – ”, were the first words she spoke after their quiet walk.
“What was what like?”
“To – um – to meet him again.”, he just raised an eyebrow with confusion. “Your father.”
“Oh.”, his flat chuckle confused her.
“What’s so funny?, Hermione moaned. “He was horrible to you!”
“I told you, didn’t I?”, Severus said softly. “You shouldn’t worry about my personal issues too much.”
“But – ”, breathing in, he cut her off.
“We’d better enter separated. After all – ”
“We are still not supposed to be friends.”, nodded Hermione, sadness in her eyes when she felt his thoughts drifting into distance.
“Thank you for wanting to spend your free time with me.”
“Not at all.”, she slightly blushed again. “It was a pleasure.”
Severus gave her another smile and turned to walk towards a side passage under the archway around the yard, leading eventually to the Great Hall. Some snowflakes falling onto her face, she looked up to the clock on the tower. With a sigh, she entered the castle, and walked straight to lunch.
~~#~~
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