Unquestionable Love | By : CRMediaGal Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 3380 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is copyrighted to and belongs to JK Rowling. I own none of her associated characters. New characters belong to me. No money/profit is made from this story. |
A/N: Brooding, brooding, and lots more (necessary) brooding...
Many thanks to my beta reader, Brittny!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is copyrighted to and belongs to JK Rowling. I own none of her associated characters. New characters belong to me.
Chapter 5: Growing Concerns
Hermione Snape paced the family room floor for at least an hour, unaware of how much time was passing. Her beautiful features were clearly distraught and offset by deep, caramel eyes that were larger than normal. Her arms were crossed as she stalked back and forth before the fireplace, her cheeks radiating with heat. Was it a result of standing so close to the burning firewood or from the anxiety of her nerves? She was unsure at the present but that hardly mattered, especially when compared to the contents of the letter gripped firmly in her right hand.
Though Hailey had waited till midweek, she wrote a long letter to her mother regarding the wand incident, relaying the entire incident, or so Hermione thought. Not only was Hermione shocked by the contents the letter contained, but Hailey's usually neat handwriting was almost unreadable, the letters scribbled and covered in wet blotches. Hermione sensed that her daughter must have been crying awfully hard while pouring everything out to her, given that half of the ink was dripping down the page. It had arrived by owl only a few hours earlier, but Hermione still had not torn it away from her grasp. She read it over at least a dozen times, and with the same amount of disbelief on each perusal.
Severus? Drawing his wand on her? And on her first day, too? How is this possible? Her initial reaction had been denial. No! Hailey must be exaggerating. She's just very upset at Severus for singling her out in class and making an example of her.
Hermione understood her husband's less than gentle teaching methods better than anyone. After all, he had once been her professor for six years and could hardly have been stamped as a 'sweet' sort of mentor, though she knew Severus's true identity on a level that most others did not.
Severus was the same tough instructor he had always been, demanding the best of his students, though often on a level that Hermione admittedly thought impractical. Yet there was a genuineness to his controversial methods that Hermione only came to realize in her later school years. Severus could be unfair, quick to anger and hardly ever gave credit to the students who deserved it; however, unlike most of the student body, Hermione came to understood that it was all to make the best, most capable of his students, including her, better. He only wanted to prepare them for the harsh criticism that existed outside of their safe, magical school. It took Harry and Ron, as well as countless other classmates comprised mostly Gryffindors, much longer to grasp Severus Snape's disguised, virtuous intentions.
Hermione's gratitude towards him only increased over the years as she continued to unearth the real nature of the very complicated man. For so long, Severus had been unfairly judged and misunderstood by virtually the entire wizarding world, including her, but Severus turned out to be a genuine hero of the war, who now completely belonged to Hermione. Still, he retained a certain amount of mysteriousness, a peculiar and fascinating elusive nature that Hermione had yet to fully decode; and it only made her admire and yearn for him more.
In his years as Hermione's professor, Severus had unknowingly made one of his cleverest students an even brighter, more capable witch than he realized, but he never accepted any credit that Hermione threw his way over the many years that they had been together. Hermione bemoaned her frustration at how quickly Severus repeatedly rejected her compliments, and she had labored countless times trying to convince her husband that he deserved kindness, love, and a bit of thanks for all he had done and continued to do for the wizarding world and for her.
Even if Severus were never to come to terms with who he was, Hermione was committed to at least instill in their girls an understanding about his nasty, cold exterior that emerged in a professional setting. She reminded Lily and Surina as often as she could that it was mostly an act, albeit perhaps an overly effective one, but it was always meant with the best of intentions.
Hermione would have to start patiently reassuring Hailey as well, judging by the tearful letter folded in her hand. She just did not anticipate having to do so quite so soon. She glanced down at Hailey's parchment, wishing she had been more forthright with her daughter about Severus. Had Lily managed to tell her anything at this point? Had she explained to Hailey that her father really did not mean her any ill-will? That he had not somehow transformed into a monster?
Oh, Lily, why didn't you tell her first thing, for goodness' sake? She abruptly stopped pacing. I should have told Hailey. Why on earth did I leave such a task to Lily? Even if she hadn't insisted upon being the one to tell her sister, I still should have given her more forewarning. I should have said something, for crying out loud!
And yet, something else was unnerving Hermione and weighing on her troubled mind as she continued to pace. Regardless of Severus's professional behavior, there was a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her Hailey could not possibly be exaggerating the entire incident. To be sure, there had to be truth to the majority of what she had written...perhaps?
Hermione's shoulders tensed and she held the letter tighter, crumbling it within her clenched fist. Unbeknownst to the clever witch, her entire body was now trembling.
How could he allow himself to get so angry? For Merlin's sake, Severus! What the bloody hell were you thinking, pulling your wand on a student? Your own daughter! Hermione suddenly halted, as if coming to a dreaded realization. No, it couldn't be... He denied it with Lily, with Surina. The healers told us everything would be fine. What if... No, Hermione! Don't think about that. Focus.
The worry in Hermione's face grew worse. She heaved a heavy sigh and dropped into a chair next to the hearth that was normally occupied by her husband. Her hands glided along the armrests, feeling the fabric, almost as if she somehow expected to sense her husband's aura through its foundation. Several Potions books were piled clumsily next to the chair, along with a few old Daily Prophet newspapers that Severus had forgotten to throw out before leaving for Hogwarts two days prior.
Hermione put her hand to her forehead, messaged her temples, and closed her eyes, but all were failed attempts to calm the unpleasant ideas racking her brain. She had not heard from Severus since he left, which was no surprise, as it was still too early, but began wondering if her husband might write to her as well about what had transpired between he and Hailey.
Lord knows what's going through his mind, she thought, her eyes drifting towards the inviting fire.
Hermione did not expect to see Severus for more than a week yet, and she groaned at her miserable reality—the long days that lay ahead without him, or the girls—and leaned back in the chair. She wanted to know what had happened, as she had yet to hear Severus's version of things, and, moreover, needed to be reassured that Hailey was all right.
Poor Hailey, Hermione reflected to herself. She has no idea... And Severus, why could you not control it? This had better be some huge misunderstanding.
Hermione glanced up at the clock that sat on a mantel over the fireplace. Ten forty-five. She could not Floo to Hogwarts at this hour, though the idea had been lingering in the back of her mind for some time now. She hoped Hailey would already be in bed, and Severus would work late into the night like he always did, much to her personal dismay; she was relieved to not have to bear witness to his restless nights, as thinking on it upset her enough. And then there was little Jeannie asleep in her room, entirely unaware of the family feud. Hermione could not wake the little girl from her slumber just to trek off to Hogwarts at this time of night. Sadly, any actions Hermione wanted to take would have to wait until the morning and, even then, she needed to ponder over what could be done to resolve the matter quickly.
Hermione's anxieties shifted momentarily from her children to her husband, the handsome, middle-aged Slytherin in black whom she ached for and missed terribly. How is he? she thought to herself, the worry still evident in her attractive face. Is he overloaded this term? Surely, he must be; he always is, not that he would tell me. What number of potions has he been asked to concoct in his spare time and without any assistance? Hundreds as usual, I'm sure. How is he feeling? Is he getting enough rest? Has he been taking his elixirs?
"Maybe that's why he lashed out at Hailey," Hermione breathed aloud, though no one was around to hear. "He's probably just stressed over his workload and not getting enough rest."
Hermione's mind returned to the disturbing event her daughter had conveyed on paper: her dark husband looming over their daughter, reprimanding the small girl in front of the entire class in his snarky, acid tone, his voice dripping with fake disdain. Though how would Hailey know he didn't mean it? She could picture his wand pointing down upon her, his face bearing that terrifying expression he so often gave when Hermione was his student, a look that resembled that of an enraged lion ready to pounce.
Hermione shook her graceful curls in an attempt to drive the troubling image out of her head, but thinking over it again only made her anxiety worse. She sighed helplessly, the sadness in her entire being evident as she collapsed her shoulders against the chair. Hermione's family was everything to her. They were her breath, her very existence, each one of them held a part of her soul, and she took any sort of turmoil or argument, big or small, very sensitively. Hermione had seen with her own eyes what the war from almost two decades ago had done to families like hers. Even a miscommunication like this had consequences, though she tried not to think on it as that extreme.
Hermione had prepped herself years before her girls started their education at Hogwarts, bracing for the inevitable shock, confusion, and even hurt that they might experience at witnessing Severus's altered behavior in the classroom. The Potions Master was an entirely different animal in the professional world, something which Hermione anticipated and understood, and she prayed her children would too, even if she could not relay too much to them about their father's past.
The burdens of his daily life and the excruciating pains Severus had had to endure for more than half of that time, both as a double-agent and as an isolated individual, made him who he was, and it didn't change how Hermione felt about him. Severus admittedly still could not comprehend her fierce regard, but she knew he was exceedingly grateful, nevertheless. She could never bring herself to scold the man she loved for his miserable past, but hopefully she could instill some reassurance in their children and try to get Severus to tone his antics down.
Hermione could not contain her anguish whenever she reflected on the former Severus Snape: a forlorn, unhappy man from her childhood; a dark wizard who loved and lost another woman before he ever became hers; a broken man, seemingly forever crippled by life's injustices. Then she, Hermione, breathed fresh life into him again, convincing him that he had something—someone—to live for.
I'd obliviate all those painful memories from his mind if he'd let me! she lamented sadly, knowing full well that that would never happen, but it did not lessen her desire. The thought of her husband's physical and emotional tortures was heartbreaking, even now.
Hermione tried to refocus her mind on the predicament before her. If she was not to see Severus until next weekend, then she would write to her daughter in the meantime, as soon as she could formulate a coherent sentence and knew what to say. But what could she say that would make Hailey feel better? What could she conjure up, except for a sincere apology for Severus's lapse of judgment and her own poor communication with her, now very distraught, daughter?
This is no way to start off your first year at Hogwarts, she reflected with a sigh. Hermione rolled her pretty eyes, the lights from the fire catching the light in her irises and casting them into different attractive shades. Nicely done, Severus.
Hermione took in another deep breath and exhaled, laying her head back against the comfortable chair that conformed to the contortions of her husband's larger frame, Severus having spent countless nights over the years sitting in it himself. The warmth of the flames from the hearth cascaded over Hermione and her eyelids eventually closed. She drifted to sleep, remaining in the chair for the rest of the night, but her dreams were not peaceful. She had more than one nightmare, and one that often repeated itself when Severus went away for long periods of time, out of her sight and away from her touch.
It was a night from long ago, during the Battle of Hogwarts, on the eve of Lord Voldemort's defeat. It was the brutal attack upon Severus Snape, her former teacher, her future husband, that left Hermione petrified. And there was blood, so much blood; his life trickling away before her teary eyes whilst she could do nothing but watch...
Severus hardly slept at all that night or for the next several in a row. Hailey's awful words kept ringing in his ears—those gut-wrenching, defiant words he prayed he would never hear any of his children utter. I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!
Severus knew deep down that he deserved every emotional rock his daughter threw at him that day—her curses, her strikes, and all of her rage and repulsion—though they were alarming to witness, to say the least. He had never observed such fury from Hailey or any of his children before; not like that. Still, he deserved it all and was now paying dearly for his mistake. Yet why did it feel as if he always paid the consequences far more severely than anyone else?
Severus bemoaned the actions that had been so far outside of his control that horrible day. The heat, the rush, the scorching discomfort that had crept up so unexpectedly that he barely had time to react; but that was no excuse in the professor's eyes. Why did it have to happen in front of Hailey?
While Severus felt she deserved to be scolded for her laughter, she certainly did not warrant having an experienced instructor, an adult supervisor, pull a wand on her. She was just a defenseless youth like the rest of them. She hardly knew anything except for the basic defense spells that Severus and Hermione had made the point of teaching her as a child, though she was still more advanced than most her age.
Damn it! Severus sighed miserably in his bed, running his fingers through his hair before turning carefully onto his side. A small cry escaped his lips, echoing into the darkness that seemed to engulf him. I'm a terrible father...
Just as they had for days, various images of Hailey ran through his mind: her crushed expression when she stared wildly into his eyes, her fierce screams as she branded him 'evil' and a 'coward,' her terrified sobs, and that fragile frame of hers that withdrew from his touch when he tried to console her.
Nothing had changed since that morning when Hailey flew out of the dungeons, her declaration of hate reverberating along the deserted corridors. The next three days in class, Hailey made no attempts to participate. She never looked Severus in the eye when he gave instructions and although she followed his commands and performed the potion tasks as instructed, it was all mechanically done. There was no interest, thought, or care to what she was doing, and it made Severus wince as he watched her. He recalled the wonderful memories of home when the little girl could not seem to get enough of what he was concocting in the kitchen or his laboratory, eagerly wanting to participate and learn about what her father was doing.
This sort of absentmindedness and open dismissal would have never been tolerated by Professor Snape, and no one other than Hailey would dare to act so visibly glum and uninterested. He would have gladly given her, or any other student who did not pay ample attention, a week's worth of detention for not taking the lessons seriously. It was just the sort of foolishness that got so many dunderheads sent to the hospital wing, a disturbance that always shook Severus's nerves, though no one realized it. He disguised his reservations far too well, even amongst the Slytherins.
Thus, Severus resolved to keep a carefully close watch on Hailey, as she fiddled with the various contents they worked with throughout the week. She was not doing well, but Severus quickly concluded that he deserved this behavior from her and would not—could not—reproach her, at least not now; not until her anger subsided, which he hoped would be soon.
Severus had waited the rest of the week for the opportunity to approach Hailey and offer his apology: after class, during lunch and dinner breaks in the Great Hall, or when she left to go to the library or back to her dormitory for the evening. Yet there was never an opportune moment, or perhaps his daughter had purposely willed it that way. Any time Severus encountered her, whether it was in the dungeons or in the hallways, Hailey instantly lowered her head, never meeting his gaze, and, at times, purposely ignored him if he called out to her. The Potions Master noticed how she was also never alone; Albus, Hugo, Tessa Longbottom, or some other student always accompanied her everywhere, which only added to his mounting frustrations. He was more than relieved to see his daughter making fast friends and getting on so well with her peers, and normally he would have simply let her be and not drawn any attention to either of them, but the dark wizard was desperate for a moment alone with his daughter. He longed for the chance to apologize, to beg her forgiveness and to explain that he was not, in fact, the monster she probably thought that he was, even if she had every right to think so little of him now.
Had Hailey told Lily or Surina about their tussle in the classroom? Had she written Hermione and told her everything?
Merlin, what they will think of me...
If Hermione was aware of what had happened, Severus suspected that he would hear about it soon enough, either by owl or when he Flooed home next weekend. Needless to say, one thing was clear: that beautiful, clever wife of his would not be pleased.
Another week away from her seemed far too long; Severus yearned to see Hermione, grateful that they would be able to spend an entire weekend together soon. Sometimes, such weekends had to be postponed altogether, usually as a result of having to pick up another night patrol of the castle or, more often, when Severus got inundated with dozens of new potions orders. They were more frequent as of late, if that were possible, arriving in bulk and with unreasonable deadlines the Potions Master struggled to meet.
Severus reflected quietly over how tonight would have been perfectly adequate for patrolling the castle, seeing as he could not sleep or bring himself to finish another potions order. His body ached from hunching over cauldrons all day long, which should have made him tired enough to sleep, and yet, at three-thirty in the morning, he was still struggling to get to bed anyhow.
Severus tossed and turned in his four-poster bed and shivered. The dungeons were exceptionally colder than the rest of the castle, and the logs in the fireplace of his bedroom were now nearly burnt out after blazing steadily for several hours. Severus fumbled for his wand in the darkness and, once grabbing hold of it, gave a swift flick of his wrist and the fire roared back to life. The cackling of the burning logs was the only sound in the still, foreboding gloom that pervaded the professor's personal chambers.
Severus stared at the mesmerizing flames, his bloodshot eyes becoming lost in their dance. He wanted to sleep, but he hated taking that stupid sleeping draught. Why could he not will himself to bed like any other normal person?
"Hermione," he whispered into the night, sounding quite exhausted, as if it took every ounce he had to breathe her name.
Severus's black eyelids fluttered, followed by a few labored breaths. He clasped his hand to his chest and glanced over at the end table to his right where two small vials were propped, visible only by the light of a candle hanging from above that flickered on and off.
Several deep, hoarse coughs overtook Severus's weary frame as he reached over and grabbed one of the vials from the night stand. It was empty when he uncorked it and tried to take it to his lips. A flash of panic crossed Severus's face before he dropped the empty vial and, with difficulty, reached for the other one on the night stand. Once he had it securely in his possession, he collapsed back onto his pillow, breathing hard, and stifled a few more coughs before quickly bringing the liquid to his lips.
He began to relax as the liquid traveled to his stiff upper limbs, its contents causing a soothing sensation that pulsated from his throat to his chest, down his legs and through his toes. Severus pressed more comfortably into his pillow, and his eyes fluttered shut, this time for good. Sleep finally overtook him, his tired body welcoming unconsciousness without a struggle, as his chest rose and fell more steadily. And the vial containing the sleeping draught was clasped loosely in one hand that had dropped to the professor's side.
As the second year Slytherins bounded out of the Potions lab, hungry and eager to head to the Great Hall for lunch, one of them lingered behind to speak to their evasive teacher. She waited for everyone to exit, fidgeting with her things as she tucked them away.
"You coming, Surina?" asked one of her Slytherin friends, a dark-haired girl with a beak-like nose named Beatrice.
"In a moment," she replied, turning away to jot something down in one of her notebooks. "Go on without me, I'll just be a minute."
Beatrice nodded and scampered away with the last of her classmates, leaving Surina as the sole student in the room. Severus looked on as his second eldest finished her note-taking and threw her pen and notebook into a small bag. She glanced up from her spot in the third row before getting to her feet and sauntering over to him with a warm smile etched on her equally pale, handsome face.
Severus welcomed his daughter's loving expression, though she was unaware of just how grateful he was. Surina stopped when she reached his desk, peering up at him with her familiar black eyes.
"I was wondering when you would finally come to see me," Severus offered affectionately, the corners of his mouth turning upwards.
"Sorry," Surina replied, continuing to smile, "I've been wanting to, but the last three nights I had to spend in the library."
Severus surveyed Surina's dark features, so much like his own, and nodded before putting down his feathered quill and turning himself around to face her directly, letting her know that she had his full attention. "Everything going all right so far?"
"Yep! It's going great, although my Astronomy and Transfiguration workload has been insane. I think Professor Dumbledore has it out for the Slytherins this year."
"Ah," Severus gave an offbeat, rough chuckle and pulled a few strands of hair away from his face. "Well, Dumbledore is an exceedingly gifted professor, Surina. Apply yourself; do the work. If he provides you extra opportunities for improvement, you shouldn't hesitate. You will only improve the more you practice."
Transfiguration was a frustrating subject for Surina, though Severus and Hermione continued to encourage her extracurricular studies in the subject. Hermione had spent the entire summer coaching their young Slytherin, and she had made great strides in the months spent at home practicing with her mother. It pleased her parents greatly to see how much progress she was making, but Surina seemed to have a different perception of her progress.
"I know," Surina sighed, tossing her shimmering long hair to one side. "I'm just overwhelmed is all. I don't know how you and Mum make it look so easy."
Severus stared down at her thoughtfully, his eyes emanating a fatherly gentleness that someone else's child would never have picked up on. "It isn't easy, Surina. I struggled with it myself when I was your age. Your concentration level and precision are improving, I promise you. You've made considerable strides this summer, much more than you realize."
Surina's smile extended, reacting to Severus's words of encouragement, and she stepped up onto the platform where he was situated at his desk, putting her arms around his neck. The contact, though unexpected, was an unacknowledged remedy for Severus, who reciprocated without hesitation, more than grateful to receive her hug. For a short time, he and Surina held tight to each other, wrapped in a warm embrace.
"You all right, Dad?" he heard Surina inquire as she pulled away from their hug. It was a small movement that almost made Severus flinch, though he was glad she did not withdraw her touch from him entirely. Her hands remained casually looped around his shoulders.
It was as if he had already forgotten what it was like to receive such sentiments from his children. His first few days back at Hogwarts had rattled him to the core, but he tried to shake it off, gazing into his daughter's doting face as she surveyed him back without anger, only regard.
"I'm fine, muffin. Why?"
Surina shrugged but considered him questioningly, raising one eyebrow, just as he so often did when he was puzzled about something. "Nothing, except..." Her eyes shifted, unsure whether to continue.
"Yes?" Severus urged her, now raising one eyebrow as well.
"Well," Surina began, peering into his eyes, "you just look really upset; sad, actually. Is something wrong?"
In that instant, Severus gathered that Surina knew nothing of the fight he had had with Hailey, and he swallowed hard. It was only a matter of time before she found out, too; only a matter of time before the whole family knew. Would she hate him as well?
Severus dreaded the possibility that perhaps his eldest was already aware. Lily had not come to visit yet, though Severus naturally saw her in class. She did not act at all differently towards him then, but it was quite out of character for the eldest Snape to not have come by and seen him by now, especially given that it was nearly the weekend.
"Dad?"
Severus's eyelids fluttered and he took in Surina's furrowed brow. His mind had drifted, lost in his concerns, and he had forgotten to answer her.
"Don't worry," he responded, grabbing her small, white hands and enveloping them in his own. He placed them in his lap and offered her a curt smile. "I'm not sad, Surina. Just distracted, that's all."
Surina nodded but bit her lip, something Hermione always did. It was an unfortunate trait which, Severus mused, had been passed on to all his girls except Jeannie. That little pistol never seemed unsure of herself or worried about anything.
Surina leaned in again unexpectedly and hugged her pale-faced father; the professor with straggly hair and the infamous protruding nose that no one seemed to have any regard for. When she spoke again, there was an earnest sincerity in her tone of voice.
"Whatever you're hiding, Dad," she whispered close to his ear, "you should talk it over with Mum. You don't have to talk to me, or Lily, or Hailey if you don't want to, but I don't like seeing you unhappy."
Severus pulled back, taking a moment to examine the dark child who seemed to possess nothing but compassion for him, and his heart lodged in his throat. At least his clever Slytherin did not hate him. For now.
Severus rose from his chair and kissed the top of Surina's thick, black mane before squeezing her shoulder. "Thank you, Surina," he replied softly, trying not to sound emotional. He took his seat at his desk again before adding, "But you needn't worry. I'm fine, really. Now run along and get something to eat before Scorpius and the rest of the boys clear everything out."
Surina giggled, and then her face became serious again. She wanted to say something else to him—perhaps further words of encouragement—but Severus lightly prodded her with one finger against her shoulder, the outline of his mouth forming into a broad, forced smile.
"Go on, sweetheart. I'm fine."
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