Chapter Text
Severus Snape took labored steps up to the top of the Astronomy tower, still blissfully numb from the earlier revelry with his fellow Death Eater brethren who had plied him with copious amounts of booze. He had attended yet another revel at the Dark Lord’s behest and another part of his soul had been tainted beyond repair; not even a ‘thank you’ or a ‘by your leave’ from the great mastermind, Dumbledore. Not a thought to how his spy was still a man underneath the layers of black fabric. Severus sometimes wondered how he had even maintained his double agent persona after the debacle of the end of term the year before and in doing so lived another day.
The years were wearing down on him harder than ever as the thrice-damned war sped towards its climax. He was barely past the age of 37 and he felt like a man in his 60s. Severus sighed and reflected on what this new school year would bring. The old loon had some delusion that getting the Potter boy through his 7th year would prepare him to face the Dark Lord. The Headmaster once again disregarded the fact that Potter needed more information than the old man was willing to give him. Severus had no hope for success based on the failure of Mister Potter to think critically, regardless of any prophecies. Who wouldn't be invested in blocking out their sworn enemy if they had a mental connection to them? Severus scoffed, remembering the disastrous Occlumency lessons with the dark haired angst-ridden teenager.
Severus snorted as he reached the landing at the top of the Astronomy tower. He didn’t know why he had made his way to the tallest peak of the castle, so far from his quarters. Flashes of the end of the previous year played across his mind as he ascended the last steps, not least of these memories was the price he had paid to break himself free of the Unbreakable Vow he made to Narcissa Malfoy. While he had been relieved to be rid of one of his many vows, the ancient ritual had involved losing a bit of his soul, a minor consolation for ‘the greater good’ he had been told. He tried to ignore the invisible gaping wound left behind in his very being, but it was a constant reminder that his life was not his own. A chasm of darkness that not even a decade of servitude to the Dark Lord had created.
Minor victories continued when they had successfully pulled the Malfoys into the side of the light. Draco and Narcissa openly defied The Dark Lord, while Malfoy Senior publicly denounced his family and privately became a second spy for the order. How things had changed, though some things remained the same.
I’ll need to keep an extra eye on Draco this year, as if I wasn’t stretched thin enough already, Severus mused to himself, walking but not seeing. The apprehension around the Malfoys was palpable but not unfounded. However, Severus was relieved to have some actual friends among the Order, most of whom still did not trust him the way Dumbledore insisted they should.
Every year fate assigned him the role of a silent guardian, regardless of his desires and without the gratitude or even the respect he craved. With a deep sigh, he focused his eyes across the expanse of the tower to look upon the landscape that had brought him peace over the years. Surprise washed over him as he took in a silhouette sitting on the tower railing, legs dangling over the edge, blocking his view of the surrounding forest and mountain range. The cool breeze that passed through the space sobered him. His soreness melted away as realization gripped him.
A student…
out after curfew…
in the Astronomy tower–
sitting on the ledge!
A memory flashes in his eyes from his 7th year.
Severus’s instincts spurred him forward. The world seemed to slow down around him. His eyes alighted upon the discarded school robe and Gryffindor tie on the floor as his long legs carried him across the vast landing. A familiar wand lay next to them. He watched the pale hands gripping the railing and then slowly slipping off. His heart clenched painfully at the thought of a young life laid to rest.
Severus dashed across the space between him and the student, the tips of his fingers touched the ends of her curly hair as she dipped out of his reach. The yell of desperation exploded out of his throat as he threw himself over the railing and tackled the girl midair, wrapping his voluminous robes and long lithe figure around her as they plummeted to the fast-approaching cobblestone.
Something primal took over. The air seemed to ripple with magic so palpable it felt like a heavy blanket enshrouding them. Circling them in a growing heat that seared across his skin. For a moment the space in his soul was filled with it, the hollowness left by the Unbreakable Vow assuaged. It was almost too hot for Severus but was gone with the next breath. The unfamiliar cloying magic faded. He felt the cobblestones as they landed softly on the ground, though his body was still braced for impact. The night air cooled his sweat-slicked skin.
Severus couldn’t keep his calm exterior intact in the face of near death and having witnessed a suicide attempt. He panted hard while holding the girl against his body, her face tucked into the space between his neck and shoulder. The faint smell of vanilla and cinnamon wafted from the familiar curls which made his heart clench in recognition. He was bombarded with relief at saving her but also confused at why she had even done something like this in the first place.
“Miss Granger,” Her name slipped from his lips, more gently than he had ever spoken it. Severus felt her start to shake and shift against him. A wet spot was slowly growing on his robes at his shoulder. She wept silently. With more grace than he expected of himself after the ordeal, he sat up with the girl still leaning into him.
“Miss Granger,” Severus gripped her biceps and pushed her back from him, just enough to show her face. Sitting there, under the dark night with this crying woman before him, he felt helpless. It was not just any young woman but one that had an important role in this war. He tilted her chin and made her meet his eye. Her eyes were bloodshot, the skin around them swollen from her weeping. Without thinking he smoothed her hair off of her face while checking for injuries. She was clammy to touch, and gasped at the contact, “Are you physically well, Miss Granger? You can nod if you do not want to speak.”
She winced and her eyes widened with recognition. He couldn’t blame her for being surprised at his compassion. Until this moment he would have thought himself incapable of such tenderness. But when needs were met, here he was. She shuffled away from him, with her broken and dead gaze, sniffling and shivering. Gingerly, he made his way to his feet. She resembled a panicked doe ready to bolt at any sudden movement, fervently glancing left and right as if seeking an exit. Consciously he kept his voice calm and without its usual sharpness, he addressed her, and held out his hand, “Get up, Miss Granger… please.”
Hermione looked at his proffered hand with apprehension then finally reached for it. Her hand was cold in his, small and delicate. She kept her eyes on the ground as she stood. Severus was compelled to keep her hand in his as his eyes swept along her figure, checking for anything amiss. With his free hand, he ran a couple of diagnostic charms, although she flinched as he pointed his wand at her. When everything came up perfectly fine, he ran one more for his satisfaction. But just as he suspected, her magical core was fairly spent. Her fiery hot magic had softened their landing. He knew it was not his magic and he dared not think about the implications of his magic not protecting them. Suddenly she lifted her head, eyes empty.
“Professor,” Her voice was forceful, desperate. “You can’t tell anyone.”
Severus reigned in his righteous indignation knowing that getting angry would only force the young woman further into this shell she had become. It still irked him that she didn’t explain herself. Any guilt for his following actions would be thrown to the wayside as his curiosity won out. He took her chin and forced her to make eye contact, “Legilimens.”
In a moment he was in the most organized mind he had ever slipped into. It was no surprise that it resembled a round library. For every floor-to-ceiling bookcase, there was a door between it and the next bookcase. The details of the room were extraordinary, but he had no time to ponder the skill level it would have taken. He rifled through some of the books quickly, only finding innocuous memories of her times at Hogwarts and with her friends. There were various notebooks of research, an untitled black book that rejected his touch by some enchantment, and a book marked ‘dreams’ that he could not open, though he tried. Severus frowned, pressing against the invisible barriers that blocked his path. They had been warded.
Was it natural Occlumency or an outside force? The level of restriction was obviously deliberate, but was it defense by a skilled Occlumens? No, there was more. An idea niggled at the edge of his mind but he tabled it for the moment. Furthermore, it was odd that there was nothing from before Hogwarts or during her childhood with her muggle parents.
Severus moved to one of the ornate cherry wood doors and found it locked. They were all locked, to his dismay. No amount of pushing granted him access to what lay beyond the doors. He wondered for a moment who had taught her occlumency but he would not be surprised if the pragmatic young woman had instinctively organized her hyperactive mind for ease of access.
He pulled out of her mind with as much care and softness as he could, a stark contrast to his lessons with Potter. The entire interaction couldn’t have taken more than a minute. “Miss Granger. I will not ask you why you felt the need to…attempt…what you did tonight.”
Her eyes widened a fraction with surprise. But the next moment tears spilled from her eyes, quickly followed by quiet whimpering as she tried to stifle her reaction. She looked so young. Maybe it was how broken she sounded, or the re-emergence of his own 7th-year folly, but Severus was compelled to wrap an arm around her shoulders and loosely held her, although his body was tense, unused to physical contact, “You are already exhausted, Miss Granger. Crying will only make it worse.”
Severus stood there with the Gryffindor ‘golden girl,’ simply giving his support as she collected herself. The cold breeze of the early morning picked up and he cast a few warming charms for them. He did not attempt to analyze why he was still there, or why he hadn’t yelled at her, given her detention, or even sent a patronus to the headmaster or McGonagall. All he could think about were his own memories of sitting where she had moments earlier, feeling hopeless. He was the one to pull himself away from the ledge in his youth when all he wanted was for someone to understand why he considered ending his life.
Tonight, he would be that for the girl tucked into his chest, if only to assuage any guilt in the future. Her hiccupping and sniffles waned until she pulled back and whispered a word of gratitude, startling him from his ruminations. With a wave of his wand, her cloak, tie, and wand came down from the tower and into her waiting hands.
Covertly watching her as she pocketed the wand, he saw the bags under her eyes and the sallowness of her cheeks. Even her wild hair was less voluminous. Her hands shook as she pulled the cloak around her shoulder, bringing attention to her rough and bitten nails. He had missed the welcome feast after he was summoned by the Dark Lord, so this was the first he had seen of the girl since early in the summer at Grimmauld Place. She had looked well back then. Now, she was blatantly unwell.
She was still in her uniform. The short skirt, crisp white top, and sweater vest seemed too innocent when contrasted with the weariness of her face. The witch barely came up to his shoulder but seemed solid enough, rather than frail. She had always been diminutive, compared to the willow-y girls of her year, but paired with her dropped shoulders she looked even smaller.
“Come along, Miss Granger,” He nodded at her and made sure she was following before he turned and stalked towards the castle entrance. Severus wasn’t sure what else to say to the girl.
Should I tell McGonagall? Probably, but he didn’t trust the witch to give the young woman the proper counsel. Merlin knew it was Gryffindor style to say ‘Buck up, others have it worse’.
Perhaps the Headmaster? No! Dumbledore may say that he cares about all the students, but everyone could tell he would sacrifice anyone to make sure that Harry Potter made it to the end of this war. A woman? Molly? Madam Pomfrey? Both would no doubt mother-hen the girl to death. Was that not a better option than leaving her to her own devices? Or worse yet, with me?
His racing thoughts were interrupted when the main doors clicked shut behind them. The entranceway was dim but the castle was much warmer than outside. Severus looked the girl over and could tell she was trying to find something to say in this awkward situation. Putting her out of her misery while also forcing himself to make a decision, he spoke in his usual drawl, “20 points from Gryffindor for traipsing through the castle after hours.”
The indignant scoff from the girl was welcomed, a spark of her stubborn personality flashed through before it died down again and her stare was once more lifeless. She nodded in acquiescence. He would blame this on the alcohol he had consumed hours earlier rather than any compassion on his part; he made her an offer, one he wished he had received at her age.
“Miss Granger, I will not lecture you on what I witnessed tonight. But I will say this, my door is always open to you. I may not be the most outwardly compassionate person…but I know what it feels like to sit on that ledge. I don’t suspect your dunderheaded friends have noticed your suffering. Nor do I think you have confided in anyone else. Your stubbornness and independence can be a detriment in these situations.” She was studying him with an indecipherable expression on her face. He shrugged away his discomfort and continued. “I will not judge you for your reasons. I also will not coddle you. I would, however, listen and speak only when you give me leave to. I do not want to have to check the Astronomy Tower every hour and end up practicing broomless flight again.”
He didn’t know why he tacked on the last joke but didn’t question it when it brought a most satisfactory response. She blinked owlishly up at him before a soft smile lit up her face, kind and full of gratitude. He turned away, not wanting to address the warmth flushing his cheeks. Severus was a controlled man but he was still a man who had never truly received much attention from the fairer sex. But his embarrassment came from realizing he didn’t remember the last time anyone had so genuinely smiled at him. It was unnerving.
He coughed to cover his embarrassment. This wasn’t the first time the young woman had made him blush, though she would never know, for he would never tell her. The night had been bizarre enough already. “Come along, Miss Granger. I will walk you back to your common room. My duty as Professor prevents me from sending a young woman along on her own, even in this castle, at night.”
“Professor,” Her voice was quiet. The nasally quality of it and her red eyes were the only giveaway to her most recent turmoil. “Is your door open now, sir?”
The Potions Master felt his eyebrow raise in surprise. A large part of him had expected her to never take him up on his offer.
“I just don’t think I will be able to sleep anytime soon and would like some company,” She wouldn’t meet his eyes.
With a sharp nod, Severus led the way to his office, “Very well. Merlin knows what mischief you would get up to if I don’t distract you now.”
His words lacked their usual bite. Severus listened as her hurried footsteps echoed in the empty Dungeon halls, trailing behind him like an excitable shadow. Contrary to popular belief, his offices were rather warm and cozy compared to the potions classroom and the 7th year labs. Bathed in the light from the wall sconces, warmed by the tapestries and rugs, his office held his comforts, as few as there were. It would not do to have his book collections or journals dampened by the humid air of those places. Instead, his cherry wood desk sat in the middle of a round room, edged in bookcases. One door led to the classroom on one side and the other door across the room led to his living quarters.
There was a fireplace that he lit with a flick of his wrist, and two plush armchairs facing it at angles. The flames cast twitching shadows across the bookshelves, adding an eeriness that did not dissuade the bookworm from gazing up at the many titles he owned. Even traumatized, the girl can’t keep her eyes off a decent book collection. Seeing her standing in his office, surrounded by his things, it occurred to him that his office bore a resemblance to her mind library–organized, personal, filled with secrets no other was privy to.
With little thought, he summoned a house elf to bring them some tea and biscuits. He hung his billowing cloak on a hook near the door to his living quarters. With a put-upon sigh he gestured for Hermione to handle the tea service, “Take a seat, Miss Granger. Fix the tea, I will be back momentarily.”
He returned from his quarters with a calming draught in his pocket, in case it was needed. Severus had a feeling there would be more tears shed tonight. She was seated with her hands wrapped around a hot cup of tea, staring into the fire. Next to the teapot, his own cup was prepared. He eyed it before taking a sip, surprised to find it just the way he liked.
“Three sugars, no milk,” Miss Granger said softly, turning her eyes on him. “You take it every morning like that. Even at Grimmauld Place.”
He nodded, not sure how to react to her attention. He desperately ignored the warmth that came with the small act of care. Not even Dumbledore bothered to learn how he took his tea.
“Indeed. Thank you,” Severus sipped the tea and lost himself in the hypnotic movement of the fire. Now that they were here, he wasn’t sure what to do. Never one for emotional conversation or sharing feelings, he was beginning to regret his offer. The silence dragged on. Would she speak? Should he? Maybe he should have sent a patronus to another Order member. I am hardly equipped for late-night heart-to-hearts.
“How do you live with the bad things you’ve done to ensure that worse things don’t happen?” She finally mumbled. The question sat in the air between them. Severus knitted his brows together at the implications of her inquiry.
He pondered for a moment then prefaced his reply with a heavy sigh, “If I were Dumbledore I would say that everything is worth the sacrifice for the greater good. But I am neither the headmaster nor a terribly righteous man.”
She looked to him imploring him to continue. The fire danced in her chocolate brown eyes and unshed tears rimmed them.
“In my experience, if not doing the ‘bad thing’, as you say, results in more pain and suffering to innocents and people I care for, to people who don’t deserve it; then the ‘bad thing’ is a necessary evil. We cannot know the light without the dark, Miss Granger. It is human nature. If one is always joyous, then having not experienced sadness, they will lose their appreciation for joy itself,” It was a candid response, although probably not what the girl was looking for. He had no inclinations to go into detail about the ‘bad things’ he had done and would have to do.
“Does the guilt get easier?” Her eyes found the fire again, her voice softening.
“No, you grow accustomed to it. Then other things become more important than guilt. The feeling joins the white noise of those that once consumed you but have dimmed with time. Never completely forgotten but not as harsh as they once were.” He ruminated over his own guilty conscience. Most old memories had lost their sharp contrast, making the pain more blunt with each year that passed. When she did not follow up with another question, he glanced at her.
Severus would berate himself for his thoughts later, but the tears that had silently spilled down her cheeks made her brown eyes glassy and bright with the reflection of the fire. When did the know-it-all become a beautiful young woman? He’d not paid her much mind the last few years as the war progressed. But even he could see that she was a few years older than her peers. The time turner? How many years had she added? Her cheeks had the sharp corners of womanhood. She was more shapely now, rather than thin and girlish. You’re a disgusting old man! The girl nearly killed herself!
“What have you done that has left you so guilty that…suicide…seemed bearable?” There he laid it plainly between them. Back on topic and to the reason they were even sitting there in the first place. His curiosity was begging to be sated.
She laughed. It started as a scoff, then a giggle, then transformed into body-shaking guffaws that made a chill crawl up Severus’s spine. It was laughter born not of humor but of emptiness. From a hollow pit in her soul that emanated hopelessness. It was the sound of loss and grief, too heavy to bear, wrapped in guilt and self recrimination. He had heard that sound before, in his darkest memories. He had made that sound before. Long ago.
It was the type of mirth that dissolved as quickly as it arrived. No wonder she had been able to slip off the railing when he hadn’t been able to do it, even at his worst. He had always had anger and spite to fuel him into living. The girl before him could wield wrath like any scorned woman, if Draco was to be believed. But at this moment he doubted that she had a single vengeful bone in her body.
“I obliviated them,” The phrase burst from her and landed like a stone on the carpet between them, blunt and immovable. Severus waited for her to explain further but her eyes were resolutely fixed on the hearth. Her emotionless voice eventually continued. “They don’t know they have a daughter…didn’t know.”
“You obliviated your parents?” It had been a long time since someone had genuinely surprised Severus, but this young woman had succeeded a few times tonight. Obliviation was extremely complicated magic. Considering who he was talking to, it wasn’t all that surprising that she had managed to cast the spell. But why? “Why not just ask the Headmaster to keep them in a safe house? You can’t reverse that strong of a memory charm. To attempt could cause serious damage.”
She scoffed and turned her face to him. More tears glistened as they spilled down her cheeks. “Dumbledore couldn’t keep Death Eaters from coming into Hogwarts last year. I thought it would be better if I was the one who took care of them. I thought that them being alive, even if they never knew about me would be a better fate than anything a Death Eater might do to them. I set them up in Australia early this summer. New names, new jobs, new pasts. I thought of everything.”
“There haven’t been any plans concerning your parents since your fifth year,” Severus mumbled to himself. “I was able to pivot all thought away from targeting them in favor of more ambiguous means of intimidation.”
“I know. Dumbledore told me as much when I brought up my worries over their safety. I may not know of everything you have done to help the Order or any of us, Professor. But I did not doubt that you tried to keep my parents safe,” Miss Granger set down her teacup and turned to him. “We spent all our time protecting my parents from evil witches and wizards, we forgot to consider that even muggles can be evil.”
The air grew heavy with her admission. Severus knew that muggles could be evil, he had the scars to prove it and a surname as a reminder. He met her deadened eyes, his voice barely above a whisper, “When?”
“Three weeks before term. No one knows. I didn’t, I couldn’t tell anyone.” Her eyes were downcast as she admitted her secret.
“Miss Granger,” Severus urged her to continue, “Hermione, what happened to your parents?”
After another deep breath, she replied, another wave of tears accompanying it, “A mass shooting. They were among 23 who were killed. The shooter gave no reason for why he opened fire, he just did.”
Before he could come up with a response, she stood up and dusted herself off. She cast a quick wandless cleansing charm on herself. “Thank you for listening, Professor. I’ll be going now. I don’t want to impose more than I have already.”
With her brave face plastered on, she left him sitting in his office, speechless. The hollowness in his being crept back in. In her absence, grief prevailed.