A Dark Scenario

Chapter 11 ~ Clearing the Air

Hermione gasped as the cloak she wore was ripped off of her and she was flung away from the hard body that held her. She spun quickly and looked into the contorted face of Snape, who was glaring at her. The tea tray and its contents rested on the large desk in his office. He held up the cloak and examined it with narrowed eyes. Homemade.

He'd always been good at perceiving people hidden under cloaks. It probably had a lot to do with the Marauders always trying to ambush him in his youth using James' cloak. And Hermione's cloak wasn't of top quality.

Snape had felt her standing in the dungeon corridor and partially closed his office door, listening intensely. Hermione walked quietly but not completely silent. Snape simply waited for her to get close enough to his door so he could startle her. When she shrieked, he was able to orient on her position and grab her. He tossed the cloak on the top of his desk.

"What do you want from me?" Snape demanded, his nostrils flared.

Hermione blinked at him.

"I don't want anything from you," she replied. "I just know you like my tea."

Snape stared at her.

"I told you to stay away from me."

"I have been."

"Sending me tea isn't staying away from me," the wizard hissed.

"You didn't say I couldn't send you anything," Hermione countered.

"It's still contact."

"Very distant contact. I'm nowhere around when you drink the tea. I just want you to have something you—you enjoy. What's wrong with that?"

Snape's dark eyes rested on her.

"Why do you care?" he asked her.

Hermione drew in a breath.

"Because I think you deserve much more than what you're getting, that's why. After all you've done for the wizarding world—"

"Blast you, you silly girl! Don't you understand I don't need a champion? I don't need anyone! All I need is to do my duty and be left alone!"

"The war is over!" Hermione hissed back at him. "It's done! You don't have to be this way any longer! Voldemort is dead and you're no longer a spy! Why do you keep pushing people away?"

"You think it's over for me? It's a new war, a more personal one," Snape hissed back at her. "My war. And I don't need any troops."

"I'm not trying to be 'a troop.' I just want to be your friend," Hermione said tremulously.

"I don't need friends. I need to be left alone!" Snape recanted.

"Everyone needs friends."

"I've gone this long without them. I will continue to do so."

"But—"

Snape stepped forward into Hermione's personal space. Her heart started pounding at his closeness.

"Hermione, I did something heinous to you. Every time I see you, I'm reminded of that. I relive that moment in my mind, and it's just one of many memories I wish I could forget—and one I will not be allowed to forget."

"If it's that upsetting you could be Obliviated__"

"It's not that simple, you silly girl. It is a matter of public record. Do you really think I could be a friend to you, under any circumstances? If you do, you're sadly mistaken. It's not my nature to make friends, and considering our history, it's impossible."

Hermione looked at him, her brown eyes slightly pained as the loss of all the good people that fought against Voldemort's evil. But they fought and died because they believed defeating the Dark Lord was important. It seemed it would never happen, that he would never be defeated, but he was. She blinked several times

"If there's one thing I've learned over the years, professor, is that things that seem impossible to surmount, still can be if the effort is made," she said softly. "The effort just has to be made—"

"Save your Gryffindorisms," Snape snarled, whirling and picking up the tea tray and pushing it back into her hands. "I don't see the world through scarlet and gold colored glasses."

"But, professor that—"

"Get out of here. Don't send me any more tea, and for gods' sake, just leave me to my life."

"Why are you so miserable?"

"Why are you so thick-headed? I can't tell you any more plainly that I don't want to associate with you, witch. I don't want to associate with anyone! If you're so concerned about my misery, stop causing me more of it by forcing interactions with me!"

Hermione scowled at him.

"Fine, then," she spat at him. "You can rot down here in the dark and damp for all I care. If I had known this was what you'd do, I wouldn't have bothered to speak up for you at the trial. I thought I was freeing you from Azkaban. I didn't know you were going to make your own prison and impose your own sentence of isolation and accept the scorn of others without defending yourself. I don't see why you just don't lock yourself in a pillory and let people throw rotten vegetables at you. It would be far more dramatic and fulfill what is obviously your desire to be beat upon."

Hermione opened the door to leave a silent Snape staring after her. She turned back to face him.

It's funny, professor. I always thought of you as a bit of a sadist. I never saw you as a masochist before today, but apparently, you are. You want to keep the pain alive because in some disturbing way, it fulfills you. Makes you feel whole. Gives you something to hide behind. So, not only are you a masochist—you're a coward, too. Goodbye."

She exited his office and stalked down the corridor.

Snape snarled and immediately whipped out of the door, but he didn't pursue Hermione. He just glared at her retreating back.

"Don't call me coward," he said in a low, tight voice. "Don't ever call me a coward."

Snape returned to his office, looked down at his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose in aggravation. She'd left her blasted cloak.

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A/N: I wrote this completely museless. I promised myself yesterday that I would force myself to write, even if I don't feel inspired or creative. It can't always be fun, sometimes it's work. I still have no idea how I'm going to engage these two. It will probably have to be something tumultuous. Something that throws them together. Anyway, thanks for reading.