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Sense and Insensibility Complete	By : Desert_Sea Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 33531 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters/things/places created by J.K. Rowling. I make no money from my fan-fiction.

Chapter List
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A/N:
OO – ‘It makes for a nice change while also somehow making it more intimate. But there's also something isolating about it’ – that’s an interesting point to make. I agree with both comments. Not having written like this before it certainly has a different feel about it (and I keep stuffing it up). ‘That's deep. And the story of my life.’ – And mine x. ‘Holy crap, Snape. Give a first-year teacher a break. He's such a hard-ass :)’ – he does seem to be taking himself pretty seriously these days ;)
Kvarta – ‘she deflected some time ago, tnx to that I'm stuck on one chapter for my AU/OC story for over a month’ – she seems to have calmed down a bit for me too . . . nowhere near as manic. ‘I'm sending you wave of positive energy’ – thank you xxx. ‘One that comes from battling long lasting chronic disease, perfectly’ – I have a bit of knowledge from my work and family (and myself). ‘No, I'm not threatening you, but my hands are unsteady move’ – hahah, exactly ;). ‘Snape was never one to pass opportunity to solve puzzle’ – despite his claims, he does seem to be showing some interest. ‘I am bit worried about you after this chapter’ – thank you dear but you don’t need to worry, as I said, this is my therapy xx
Fox – ‘I don't know what to think, really’ – that’s okay, hopefully things will become clearer as we progress. ‘Now, Snape is an arse’ – yes he is being a bit harsh on her, isn’t he. ‘I'm sure he is up to a challenge, but on his terms’ – hahah, I think you have him worked out. ‘A man like Snape wouldn't just say: "Miss Granger, I couldn't help but notice, that something seems to be ailing you..." yeah... and "Why don't you have a cup of tea with me and tell me all about it. I would love to help"’ – it would be so much easier if he did but, then again, I wouldn’t have much to write about ;) Thank you for your thoughts . . . getting there. ‘There were large snowflakes falling very slowly, disappearing as soon as they touched the ground (of course). But still I was mesmerised by the feather quality of their descent. Lovely.’ – I loved your description and I could absolutely see it. I was there in November, not quite snow but definitely getting dark early. Feel free to whine as much as you like, I’m a world-class whinger! :) x

Chapter 3 – Fire and Ice
The flames elongate as the candles burn down. Hermione watches their golden tapers waver as she sighs. Over an hour. That must be a record. She nudges the pale vegetables around her plate with her fork as she struggles to swallow a mouthful of bread. Whilst the bland food is tolerable to her tastebuds, it certainly isn’t inspiring. The discomfort of swallowing and even the filling of her stomach makes each bite a battle. She finally drops her fork with a clatter, hardly believing that she used to enjoy this.
Leaning back in her chair, she closes her eyes and rolls her neck gently from side to side. At least she can be grateful that she’s managed to remain upright. Snape’s suggested incantation had worked exactly as he’d indicated. It hadn’t taken her long to master the wandwork and the relief of knowing that there wouldn’t be a repeat of the earlier horror had been enough to sustain her. Now exhaustion drags her insistently toward the small bed in the corner of her room. But she won’t succumb. Not yet.
Straining to prise apart her heavy lids, she allows her gaze to slide around the tiny space. Whilst it has been cleverly transfigured, it still bears a strong resemblance to a storage cupboard. The shelves house her book collection and a tea set that had once belonged to her grandmother. Apart from the bed, there is a modest chest for her clothes, a desk, and a small table with two chairs at which she now sits. A tiny magical fireplace has been included so that she can Floo the House Elves to request meals and to enable communication with Minerva since there is no window through which owls can enter or exit.
It actually isn’t the worst dwelling she’s ever occupied. And at least she feels safe. The absence of a bathroom is somewhat inconvenient, but while the shared facility down the corridor is used by students during the day, she has it to herself at night. Minerva was kind enough to add a bath since showering had become impossible, and this is where she now heads, toiletries bag in hand.
A major downside is the fact that she must pass the entrance to Snape’s chambers on the way. It is quite clear that her arrival, for him, is most unwelcome, and no doubt he despises her presence in his dungeon domain. Desperate to avoid engaging with him any more than necessary, she holds her breath as she tiptoes past. The last thing she needs at the end of a trying day, one that has had her questioning anew the purpose of her agonising life, is further disparaging remarks—or worse, no remarks at all, just his disapproving gaze, something she had known only too well as a student and is set to endure as a member of staff.
Sighing with relief, she closes the bathroom door behind her and flicks a single flame into a sconce against the wall. Filling the tub almost completely, she carefully adjusts the water temperature before removing her soft slippers and even softer dressing gown and gradually allowing one toe to dip into the creeping warmth of the water. It is the one activity that brings her some relief, respite from a world that constantly seeks to discomfort and discombobulate her.
It takes several minutes for her to sit and finally completely submerge her body. Her skin cries out with each fresh sensation, draining her further until she feels she would gladly fall unconscious. But with her hearing dulled by the water, eyes falling closed, faint scent of lavender crowding out the mouldy stench of the bathroom and body drifting weightlessly, she can finally think clearly . . . only to instantly wish for the fog to reclaim her. The reality of her circumstances hits her with full force; her throat constricts, the water rippling its sorry lament as she shudders despairingly. She is alone. She has no one.
When she’d made the decision to release her friends from the burden of her friendship, she’d done so out of love. She was severely agoraphobic and aware that people found her condition upsetting. Her good friends would have understood, or at least tried to, but she couldn’t be the sort of friend she wanted to be. It was better that they conversed occasionally by enthusiastic empty letters than in person. At least that way she could pretend to be normal.
She trembles quietly. And this is the result—no close friends, family Obliviated, masquerading as a competent teacher when it is clear to everyone that she is nothing of the sort.
Snape was right. She had put her needs, her desperation for a life of any sort, ahead of those of the students. It had been a last ditch hope, without much thought as to the reality of what she was asking both staff and students to accommodate.
Tears leaked from her eyes, slipping into the water like rivulets into an ocean. And that ocean was hers, a world of sadness to immerse herself in . . . and perhaps to eventually claim her.
***
“Headmistress.” He nods as he enters her office.
“Severus.”
“You wished to see me?”
Minerva notes that he retains an air of annoyance, as though she is already wasting his time. It is his typical countenance over recent years but it still manages to aggravate her.
“Yes. The Ministry for Education has been in contact.”
“And?” He arches an impatient eyebrow.
“They have cut our funding.”
“What?” His eyebrows plunge together, united in shock and anger. “For what reason?”
“They claim that they cannot continue to subsidise Hogwarts. They reinforced that the original funding commitment was only for five years, and they have already extended that for an additional two years—twice.”
“But the repairs aren’t yet complete. Don’t they realise the extent of the original damage?”
“Of course they do,” she replies bitterly. “I hosted the Minister only two months ago—explained that there are classrooms that are still uninhabitable, that the roof requires extensive repairs, the bridge needs reinforcement, and I showed him the Quidditch pitch that was only ever rebuilt as a temporary measure. It requires a complete overhaul.”
“And they expect us to fund all of this ourselves?” He folds his arms, his shoulders broadening in indignation. “As well as continuing the maintenance and overheads involved with housing over one hundred children and running a school?”
Minerva removes her glasses and drops them onto the desk before rubbing her eyelids wearily with the fingers of one hand. “It would seem so.”
“And what of enrolments?”
“Still down,” she murmurs.
Snape opens his long-fingered hand to implore her. “It was the Ministry’s role to rebuild confidence in the safety of the school. What happened to that commitment?”
Minerva sighs, a rare bleakness watering down her gaze. “Would you send your child to a school with such a history?”
“It was nine years ago for Merlin’s sake,” he cries. “We were targeted by one of the most powerful, most evil wizards to ever live.”
“We lost too many.” Her tone is desolate. “It remains too raw for most.”
Snape drops his gaze, dark hair shrouding his grim features.
Minerva knows that look. He still blames himself for not being there—for not assisting in the final battle, despite being as close to death as it is possible to be.
“As a result,” she continues quietly, “I’m unfortunately going to have to ask more of our staff. We will need to increase our productivity.”
Snape’s jaw tightens as his head snaps up. “I am already brewing day and night.”
“I understand, Severus, but yours is by far the most lucrative of all of our endeavours. We will also need to increase our rare creature breeding programs, and branch out into a greater variety of magical plants and herbs. But I don’t need to tell you that your potions are highly sought-after. They are of a quality that no one else can achieve.”
“And there happens to be a reason for that.” His tone is cold.
“I do realise we are very fortunate to have you, Severus.”
He shakes his head dismissively.
She can’t help feeling that he is comparing her leadership, again, to that of Dumbledore—that he’s reflecting upon the great wizard and whether he would have allowed things to come to this. Perhaps Dumbledore could have set things on a better trajectory. And perhaps Severus, himself, would have led them in a more prosperous direction if he’d been awarded the role. But such thoughts are clearly futile as they simply need to deal with matters as they are.
“In fact, I considered that Miss Granger may be able to provide the additional assistance that you require.”
He glares at her. “Of course. Having her shuddering in a corner will be of immeasurable benefit.”
Minerva returns his stern gaze. “She may be rather fragile but she is extremely bright as you know. And with her current condition happens to come certain assets that could be quite valuable.”
“Assets?” he sneers. “Forgive me if I fail to share your rose-coloured view of Gryffindor’s golden girl.”
“Now listen to me.” Minerva swiftly rounds the desk to address him. “If you have questions about the manner in which Miss Granger was appointed, you are to address those to me. I will not have you blaming her for what you clearly perceive to be preferential treatment.”
“And can you deny such accusations?” he growls. “How is Hogwarts able to afford a new appointment when resources are as limited as you claim?”
Her withered lips twitch with anger. “She is not being paid.”
He looks momentarily taken aback before he resorts to his usual defence . . . attack. “So what is she getting out of us?”
“Us?” Minerva hisses the word as her eyes flare. “Out of ‘us’ she is getting a modicum of tolerance and compassion. Surely even you can manage to dredge a little up from wherever you have buried it.”
He opens his mouth to retaliate but she interjects. “Don’t you think you owe her that much, Severus?”
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Sense and Insensibility *Complete*

Sense and Insensibility Complete