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It Was Supposed to be Over	By : nmos Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 4437 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with HP/i do not make money from this.

Chapter List
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Hermione found some stale biscuits on Snape’s pantry shelf, but transfigured them into a passable lentil soup. She returned to the living room and sat down next to the books that they had put aside the previous night. Taking a bite of her soup, and setting the bowl to the side, she looked up at Snape’s face expectantly.

“So, where should we start?” she asked.

“You will read these books. I, of course, have already read them. I would try to lecture you on them but, no doubt, your years of memorizing every scrap of text that someone sets before you will make reading them the most efficient way for us to be on the same page, as it were. We will then discuss them.”

Bitterly thinking that he should feel lucky to have an assistant with such excellent reading comprehension skills, Hermione ignored his jab but couldn’t bring herself to say anything else to him either. She riffled through her bag for a quill and parchment to take notes, and propped open the top book. She then made herself comfortable, stretching out on her stomach on the floor in front of the book and crossing and uncrossing her legs behind her as she took notes.

Snape was slightly taken aback at how comfortable the girl was making herself in his home. However, he hid his discomfort and turned to face the bookshelves, perusing them for other helpful tomes he may have overlooked the previous night.

After a few laps through his bookshelves, he had thought of a few more books that had the potential to be useful, but had exhausted his errand before Hermione had finished with even the first book. Not quite knowing what to do with himself while she read, and not wanting to awkwardly hover, he concentrated and found that he could, in fact, ‘sit’ on the couch. He crossed his transparent legs and idly watched the Granger girl reading on the floor.

‘So, this is what it looks like when the know-it-all studies,’ he mused as he watched her incessantly moving legs behind her, her face brushing the feather of her quill as she diligently took notes. He tried to feel annoyed, but couldn’t really find a reason to be.

‘It’s probably just as well,’ he thought. ‘You’re going to have to watch her read a lot. There’s no use hyperventilating over every one of her ridiculous mannerisms.’
He did appreciate how thorough she was being, actually. He had suspected that she would pursue this task with her usual vigor, but it was reassuring to know that, for now, he was right. His mind wandered to what the girl had told him about the final battle. He was glad that Potter had survived. He had been furious when Dumbledore had told him that they had just kept him alive so that he could die at the right moment. Severus was fine with that fate for himself, but had felt betrayed that Dumbledore would manipulate his guilt about Lily for a purpose that actually increased his grief over his actions.

Somewhat related to Dumbledore’s betrayal, Snape was, in a way, glad that neither of his masters had survived the war. He hadn’t wanted to kill Dumbledore, and would have fought and died to save him if necessary. However, Voldemort or Dumbledore’s existence would have made his current scheme infinitely more complicated. He didn’t know if, in good conscience, he could pursue his current work with Miss Granger if it could have potentially fallen into the hands of the Dark Lord. And Dumbledore undoubtedly would have lectured him on the morality of pursing his own resurrection, and then his own death when the time finally arrived. No, this definitely made things easier.

As Hermione absentmindedly bit her bottom lip, Snape’s attention returned to the girl before him. A passing thought occurred to him. What had she meant when she said that she had some business abroad? That certainly wouldn’t do if she were to commit herself to this task.

“Miss Granger,” his low voice startled her out of her reading. “What is your business abroad? I hope you don’t think that it will be acceptable to dash off after a day or two for a vacation, or some other frivolous nonsense,” he admonished her. “You committed to me that you would see this through to the bitter…” he trailed off. ‘End,’ he thought, but was unable to voice it due to the angry tears that had sprung to her eyes.

“For your information,” she started, as she gathered her books and notes as she made to stand up. “My ‘frivolous vacation abroad’ was going to consist of finding my parents, whom I’ve obliviated and sent to a different continent, reversing their memory charm, and explaining that their daughter, who they didn’t remember they had, had magically modified their minds and let them leave the life they built together for over a year.”

Each item in the list was punctuated by the heavy slamming of one book on top of another as she angrily constructed a pile of materials. Snape flinched as each book was abused. He hoped none of the bindings were being damaged.

“But yes, as you’ve pointed out, I’ve committed to see this task through to the end,” she said, finally standing up, holding the stack of books in front of her.

She stormed over to the staircase, toppling her bowl of soup on the way, but not pausing for a second.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Snape snarled after her.

“Away from you!” she retorted, and realized how childish it sounded. But she didn’t care; she couldn’t bear to look at him right now, ghost or not.

“Reincarnating me from afar might add another layer of complication to this already complicated task!” he called spitefully after her, but the door to his old bedroom was already slamming shut.

Well, now there was nothing to watch as she read. And how was he supposed to know what the girl had done with her parents? She hadn’t included that little tidbit in her war-recap!

As his racing thoughts, full of retorts and admonitions for the girl upstairs, eventually slowed he realized what an arse he had just been. Hadn’t he told himself just yesterday that he would try to be nicer to her while they were forced to work together? And since then he had taken out every one of his own anxieties and frustrations on her. He was lucky that this time she had only stormed upstairs. Next time she could easily storm outside, or disapparate to anywhere she pleased. Disapparate to another continent to find her parents. He couldn’t fathom why, even disregarding his behavior, she would choose to help him rather than find her parents…Even if she had left him to die in the final battle, surely finding her living parents would seem more important than helping a dead professor she despised.

Sighing, and vowing to control his temper, Snape headed upstairs to where Granger had stormed off to. Outside of his own bedroom door, he could hear her bitterly crying.

“Miss Granger?” he called through the door.

“Just leave me alone!” she yelled back.

“Miss Granger, I just came up to say,” but he stopped realizing that she couldn’t properly hear him through the door and that it would be helpful to gauge her expression when he was talking to her.

He floated through the door and started again, “Miss Granger, I just wanted to say…you used the latching lock on my door?” he couldn’t help but remark amusedly. Didn’t she realize that he could pass through such non-magical obstacles easily, even if he hadn’t been a ghost? Muggle-borns carried the most ridiculous childhood habits with them into the wizarding world.

She turned from her spot on the bed and looked up at him with angry red eyes.

“That is what you came up here to say?” she asked incredulously.

“…No,” he said, sighing at his own insensitivity. He moved closer towards her and sat on the edge of his old bed.

Years of spying had taught him that to manipulate people to do what you needed them to, it was best to base what you said to them in the truth. If he needed something from Narcissa, then he could flatter her beauty. But if someone had tried to flatter his own appearance while appealing to him, he would have immediately seen through it. With his hooked nose and crooked teeth, it would have seemed laughable.

But for this bushy haired Gryffindor, he thought, it would be all too easy to appeal to one of the house traits.

“I think what you did to protect your parents and your friends…and, most importantly, your mission was very brave.”

He was slightly surprised at the words he found himself saying. Even though they were said to serve his purpose, he couldn’t help but realize that they were, in fact, based in the truth. Her quiet crying slowed, and he could feel her listening. He continued.

“The selfish thing to do would have been to send them away with their memories of you and hoped for the best. But if you had died, which you might have at any point of the past year, you would have condemned them to live through the death of their child. I’m sure they would have found their inability to protect you unconscionable.”

Hermione had now stopped crying but still shielded her face from him in her arms, breathing deeply.

“And even though it was painful, you did it. To protect Mr. Potter. To ensure that the light had the smallest chance to prevail. That is something that I can truly understand. And respect.”

He was afraid he had sounded overly dramatic. But what she had done had been dramatic, in a striking way. And he found that he could relate to her in this. Many of the things he had done in the past year would seem incomprehensible to an outsider. He had killed Albus. He had lived for an entire year afterwards as if he were a Death Eater, unable to talk to any of his old colleagues honestly. He had allowed the Carrows to torture students. He had knowingly walked to his own death in the Shrieking Shack and sent Potter to die at the hands of Voldemort. And yet, it had all been necessary. As had been what Hermione had done. Necessary.

It surprised him that they had something this important in common, after all, and he hadn’t even realized it until he was trying to manipulate her into helping him. As if in a trance he leaned over to brush her hair away from her eyes to see if the tears he had caused still ran down her cheeks. However, he was startled out of his contemplation when she jumped from both surprise at the action and the extreme cold of his touch. She turned to look at him in confusion and Snape moved towards the door, embarrassed.

“Professor Snape,” she called and he turned to face her. “I’m not really brave. I didn’t go to find them and tell them what I did because I’m not really brave.”

Well, that was something he could understand too.

“I’ll be downstairs, if you feel up to joining me later,” he finished lamely as he passed through the door and out of the room.

A/N: Thanks for all the positive reviews from the last chapter! I really appreciate it.
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It Was Supposed to be Over