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Torment Completed	By : Kvarta Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 31713 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling. This story is purely for entertainment purposes, no money is being made from it.

Chapter List
- 62
- 63
- 64
A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting people, my health decided that I won’t have an easy pass through the holidays. But I’m finally back on my feet, and I even have a number of prewritten chapters. So, buckle up, we are returning to the fast line again :)
@BlackRose "Severus never wants to admit he is human" - yup, he's so stubborn regarding that :)
To avoid further confusion:
Italic - Past, memories
'Single quotation mark' - inner monologue, thoughts
"double quotation mark" - actual speech
Tomorrow in which she could ask questions never came, she didn’t get the chance. March melted into May. And the 2nd May came. She watched Draco running around the house like a headless chicken in preparations to take Astoria to the ball. Neither Narcissa nor Malfoy senior came to visit Snape that day. Harry knocked on the door just to let her know that they will talk tomorrow and that he will make excuses for her. Hermione frowned, she had no desire to go, and Harry knew her so well but still… he could have, should have at least ask. For a long time now Daily Prophet was a gossiping newspaper. This time they tried to guess which of the lucky witches will escort Ron. She was, as expected, slandered by Skeeter.
‘She does need a reminder of what I can do.’ Hermione thought grimly.
It seemed to her like she and Snape were either forgotten or abandoned. Snape didn’t seem bothered. He enjoyed a day of peace and quiet, not even talking to her. Not that him talking to her would improve her mood. Their conversations were more like the hissing of two snakes ready to attack each other.
‘Snakes don’t attack each other. At least I think they don’t.’ her brain was an obvious mess while she contemplated on whether snakes do attack other snakes or not for a while.
Hermione shook her head, convinced that she is losing her mind.
That evening owl swooped into the room with evening edition of the Prophet. Hermione looked at the front picture and growled. Harry was with Ginny while Ron had unfamiliar blond witch attached to him. She bounced off the sofa and start pacing around the room. She couldn’t figure out why?
“What is the matter, Granger?” came annoyed question from Snape. She glared and tossed the Prophet at him. He glanced at the front page “Ah. Stop with that irritating pacing and come here.”
Her shoulders squared, she didn’t hear him use that tone of voice since her sixth year.
‘It must be some sort of reflex, like that psychology thing I read about. Ummm Pavlov’s reflex. It is almost like Imperius curse.’ She argued internally with herself. Her body, completely ignoring her mind and will, obeyed the order.
Snape raised on his hands and tried to pull back in sitting position. He nearly succeeded at it. His physical strength returned somewhat. He gained better use of his hands, but they still lacked the strength. His legs gained some mobility as well. He still couldn’t move them freely, except his feet – he could flex them at will. But with the assistance of his hands, he could slightly bend his knees. They implemented new leg exercises almost every other day.
She climbed at the bed and sat near him.
“You are better off without that lump of wood, Granger.” He sounded cross and gruff. She frowned at him, refusing to believe in his words. It was painful enough to admit to herself that Ron didn’t love her, not the way she loved him. And that she won’t forgive him. Not this time. Her vision blurred from the tears she suppressed for the better part of the day.
“You may think he loves you or that he loved you and somehow you managed to destroy that love. To push him away.” Snape started to speak, his words flat and measured, clinically impersonal like he is delivering a lesson “The youth often does have those presumptions. Love, Granger, is not demanding, limiting or taxing on the other party. Love is not selfish. At least true love isn’t. Love puts another party above oneself.”
Tears burned behind her eyes. Hades screeched and flew from his perch to the bed, settling between them. Snape lowered his eyes to the bird. Uncharacteristic and a bit startling warmth and softness coloured his gaze. He lifted one hand and gently caressed black feathers.
“Traitor.” Grumbled Snape but his words had no bite behind them. He directed his eyes at her. They were once more two mirrors, cold reflective surfaces. All she could see in them was her own reflection. “If he truly loved you, Granger, he would at least stopped to listen to your side of the story. He wouldn’t just demand.”
She lost a battle and one tear glided down her cheek. She knew that there was no need to rub it in her face.
“Ask yourself if you are in love with him as you so firmly believe you are? Were you truly and honestly ready to settle down, have a Quidditch team of screaming whelps? Forgive every infidelity, because it made him happy? Hope to get any scrape of attention from him and relish in it without complaining? Without snapping?”
Each of his words hurt. He stabbed a dagger into her heart and mercilessly twisted it with each syllable.
“Or did you convinced yourself that you love him? Why? Was he good to you? Was he kind and caring? Does he treat you right? Were you pressured by his family, by other people expectations? Or did you convinced yourself to settle for less than you deserve because the opportunity presented itself?”
She blinked, frowning until her face started to hurt. To each of his question, her brain screamed ‘No’ as an answer. Her heart shrunk and quivered. She wanted to scream at him, to hurt him, to bolt out of the room. Instead, she narrowed her eyes and said nothing. Hades squawked and nested closer to her, pecked lightly on one of Snape’s fingers. He directed his attention to the bird shortly then back to her.
“Look into your heart, Granger. Not only to the surface, scrape it well. Face those unpleasant emotions…”
“You’re the one to tell me that.” She hissed, her voice unrecognisable even to her
“I am.” there was firmness of conviction in his voice
“You can sell that story to Harry, but not to me. You nearly hex Malfoy’s life away…”
“I did. And I’d do it again.” He replied, his voice lowering to dangerous whisper “Not only Lucius. And I am lucky. Lucky to have a friend who is willing to risk our friendship and possibly his life to face me with what he thinks is a truth.”
“What he thinks? Did you ask yourself all those questions? Did you?” she couldn’t control the pitch of her voice “Will you hex me too if throw them back to your face?”
“Yes.” He sounded calm, cold, like a silence before the storm hits
“How can you be so much of a hypocrite? To force me to face… to see what? Your version of the truth?” she hissed “When you are not willing to face…”
“You, Miss Granger, are not in the position to question my willingness to face anything.” Snape’s voice vibrated with the promise of impending doom “The fact that you violated my person does not make you noble or heroic, nor does give you the right to meddle.”
“That is just not fair.” She protested, his words stung even more than his questions
“The truth, Granger, is neither pleasant nor black-and-white. Truth is merely the truth.”
“The truth is also subjective.”
“Indeed.”
“Fine.” She huffed and scrambled to get out of the bed. Her sudden movement disturbed Hades who screeched and fly to his perch eyeing both of them grumpily. “I’d say it is time to turn off the lights.”
“A wise decision, Granger”
She mumbled the spell and turned off the lights, hitting the pillow which seemed lumpy and uncomfortable all of a sudden. Sleep found her slowly, kept at bay by her wayward thoughts. She won’t admit to him, but his questions did rise a very unpleasant truth she tried to ignore for a long time. She asked herself same questions for months. And she always stopped herself before getting to know the answers.
~ S ~ S ~ S ~
If he could he would banish her from the room. Little meddling child. Anger boiled inside him. He could feel the crackling of magic around him and he hoped that if his magic does act up, she is one of the victims. His magic took turn for the worse now that he finally managed to regain at least some small control over it. After their failure to undo what she did, he lost his grip on magic once more, and they managed to find out in a hard way…
…She was in the bathroom, and he wanted to sit down. Forcing his muscles to bend to his will, he used his wand to levitate more pillows under his back. Or at least he tried. Instead of levitating the pillow he sent it whizzing through the room, nearly knocking her down when she stepped through the door…
‘How dare she? The brat.’ His mind boiled
Counting slowly, he focused on his breathing. These simple occlumency lessons did nothing to help him raise his shields, but at least they kept the girl alive. She was the odd mixture of pragmatism and pure Gryffindor bravado.
‘Lethal combination when one is determined to poke at a monster that is Severus Snape.’ supplied his brain. He deliberately ignored the thought. He did all he could to prevent himself to be a monster second time around. It was true, one could run from is past but not hide from it. And he had too many people not allowing him either to run or to hide from his past. Moreover, they all expected of him to live up to their expectations.
Dark, everything around him is dark. The voices sound as a distant intangible murmur. Only pieces and broken words floated to him. He couldn’t pry his eyes open. A buzz, white noise, came and went in waves. Finally clearing out. He took care to keep his breathing even, mimicking the sleep. It is not smart to alert those around you that you are awake, especially if you do not know where you are. Muffled whispers.
“You cannot see him now Albus, he’s still out of it.”
“It is of utmost importance that I do talk to him, Poppy.”
“You can talk to him when I say that he is up to talking, not before.”
“Poppy…”
“Don’t you ‘Poppy’ me. I do not know what is that boy up to, but this is the sixth time in two months that he is out of consciousness in my infirmary. Crushiatus, Albus. And that is when they bring him here.”
“Who brought him?”
“Same as always, an elf.” Huffed Poppy “I do, however, believe that you know what is going on.”
“I do, and it is better not to ask too many questions, Poppy.”
“Well, at least make him come to me. Every time. I cannot heal the damage if I do not know about it. I am a healer, not a miracle worker.” She grumbled
He forced his eyes to open. The throat felt dry, unpleasantly so.
“I am fine. When can I get out of here, Poppy?” his voice sounded like sandpaper dragged over the glass
“When I say that you are fine.” Poppy frowned at him
“Severus…”
“Not now, Albus, not here.”
Two hours later Albus was walking with him towards the dungeons when they stumbled on to Trelawney. He shivered, the woman was appalling at best. She shifted through the deck of cards, mumbling to herself racking of cherry. She nearly passed them, but then she stopped and grabbed his sleeve. He resisted the notion to shake her hand off. Her eyes, enlarged through thick, jar bottom like glasses, gazed at him or through him, he couldn't tell
“Beware of the lions, or they will rule your life.” She mumbled in eery whisper “they will be your death and your life if you let them.”
“Yes. Kindly release my hand, Sybil.”
“Abandon the company of snakes in lions skin, and prevent your doom.” She continued, releasing him, glaring at Albus in an unfriendly way “Come and join me for a cup of tea.”
“Hello, Sybil.” Albus smiled at her
She just shuddered and glared at Albus “Mark my words.” Her bony finger nearly grazed his nose. She stepped backwards and let the pass.
“Are you sure it is wise to let an insane woman teach the students?”
“She is, as you know, a true seer, and as such, we need her safe and close.” Replied Albus in the same tone as he was discussing whether “You shouldn’t refuse your old position, Severus. I don’t want to lose you to the same fate as Frank and Alice.”
“You won’t, Albus. I am not so weak minded.”
“Still…”
“Do you propose that the teacher, the Head of House no less, is the same person who tortures his student’s parents? Yes, I can see how that would do wonders for school moral.” He replied in same aloof tone
“I didn’t think of that.”
“You two are not that much unlike.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. Both looking at some goal visible only to you... forgetting that peaces' you move around are not able to repair themselves, unlike ones in the wizarding chess."
“Is your proposition to sit with him and…play chess?”
“It is too late for that now.” they reached the door to his quarters “I need to rest, Albus. We will talk later, it is of no importance and it can wait.”
“I trust your judgement, Severus.” Smiled Albus giving him a glance over the rim of half-moon spectacles. He winced at the words…
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Torment *Completed*

Torment Completed