Brewing Glory

Severus Snape sunk down lazily into the chair behind his desk in his office shortly after breakfast. He had woken up unnecessarily early this morning, thanks to no one else than Albus Dumbledore. The headmaster had sent a message for him sometime around 5 am for him to meet him in his office, mentioning that they would have breakfast together.



He had reluctantly obliged and pulled himself out of bed, throwing on his usual black robes. The meeting with Dumbledore had begun in an acceptable fashion, and as usual, ended up with him storming out of the office extremely pissed off. Meanwhile Dumbledore sat there calmly, popping another one of his bloody candies into his old mouth.



The headmaster had mentioned that many of the students of Hogwarts were being pulled out of school by their parents for their ‘safety and protection’. This almost made Snape let out a dry, humourless laugh, but he bit his tongue. If the parents of these students thought they were going to be safer inside of a home with poorly cast magical wards, or pathetically running off into hiding, then they were sadly mistaken.



For a moment during their conversation, he had thought of Hermione. He had not seen her since in the night in which he had, well— taken advantage of her. Every time the images of her wild hair as he pushed her up against the wall, and the sight of her large chocolate eyes made his chest constrict. Snape made sure he seized every opportunity to do something else to take her off of his mind.



She too was surely going to be in danger. Now that Voldemort was almost setting his plan into action, and he and the girl were not on polite speaking terms, he could only pray that she would remember the things he taught her if she faced any of the Death Eaters face to face once again.



Snape leaned his head against the back of his chair and subconsciously rubbed the nape of his neck. The day had been stressful already, and he was indeed grateful that today he did not have to deal with any of the students. It was hard enough dealing with Dumbledore first thing in the morning.



He closed his eyes momentarily and thought over the conversation he had with the old man.



“You do realize that if we do not succeed, if Harry Potter does not succeed, the wizarding world is in great danger?” Dumbledore asked, leaning back in his chair. His long bony fingers were steepled together and his head was tilted forward, the half-moon spectacles almost falling off of the bridge of his nose.



“Really,” he had said bitterly, trying his very best not to let his temper get the best of him as he shifted uncomfortably, “I had no idea.”



Dumbledore sighed in exasperation, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his desk. “Then you must be patient, my boy. You must listen to me carefully.”



Snape raised an eyebrow and folded his hands in front of him, eyeing the old man thoughtfully. “And what gives you the impression that I am not, Headmaster? I have been standing in your office since six o’ clock this morning and you have suggested I am not listening to you?”



“Perhaps you misunderstand me,” he said calmly, gesturing towards the seat across from him. “Take a seat, Severus, I insist.”



For a moment, he thought about refusing and telling the old man that the discussion was over, but once again said nothing. Instead, he slowly took a seat in the chair across from him and looked directly into the eyes of the older man, waiting as patiently as he possibly could before he said, “Headmaster, I have not misunderstood a word you have said so far. The Dark Lord is just as determined as Potter is, and I daresay much more advanced—”



“You speak as if I do not know this already, Severus,” Dumbledore said suddenly, interrupting him.



Snape stared at the old man venomously, wishing more than anything that he could walk out and return to the safety of his chambers. When the silence seemed to drift on for too long, Dumbledore spoke again.



“When the time comes, I believe that Harry will be more prepared than you think. The boy is intelligent, and with the help of his friends he should be successful—”



Now it was Snape turn to interrupt and as he snapped, “So you mean Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger? You intend to offer them up as bait, do not care if they are killed, so long as Potter wins?”

“Why Severus,” Dumbledore said softly, inclining his head towards him slightly, “You speak so much as if you truly care for their own well being. I must say I am surprised.”



Snape snorted and turned his head away from the headmaster, eyeing each and every one of the portraits around him so he didn’t have to look into those twinkling blue eyes. “I speak only of what you ask me to, Albus. To protect Harry Potter and help him save the wizarding world. And without those two friends of his, I doubt he would ever be able defeat the Dark Lord.”



It was then that he turned his head to stare into the eyes of the older man again. The two of them said nothing as Dumbledore seemed to take in Snape’s previous words.



Dumbledore finally stood and Snape watched him as he walked toward him, looking at him expectantly, his hands folded in front of him. “Have you spoken to Hermione Granger lately, Severus?”



Snape’s heart must have skipped a beat for he could not find the right words to say immediately after. “Hermione Granger, headmaster? I cannot say that I have. Since she has been healed from her curse, we have not spoken much.”



“I see,” he said thoughtfully, suddenly pacing around the room and looking at all of his things in the room as if he had never seen them before. He turned back to face Snape, “and do you trust, Severus, that if danger should come her way, she will be able to fight it? Do you believe she will be able to truly fight it?”



His mouth opened slightly to reply when he stopped himself against his better judgment to think about his answer. Did he truly believe that after what he had taught her that she would keep herself out of danger? He himself was not entirely positive that she could. But surely, with her strong intellect and her desire for learning, she had taken in every word he had taught her and used it well? Then again, many things had happened since he last taught her those spells. Perhaps now she did not care, with her Gryffindor stubbornness and chivalry, to be noble no matter what it cost her.



That did not seem very likely. The day he had taught her all of those things, her eyes shone with the lust for knowledge. He felt in the pit of his stomach that she remembered every word, and that she still held onto hope…



“Yes I do,” Snape finally stated, standing up and facing the older man.



Dumbledore smiled faintly and with a slight nod of his head, he gestured towards the door, “You may go now, Severus. Have a good afternoon.”



And with a sweep of his black cloak, he left the room for his chambers so he could continue to think about what Albus had just asked him.



He sat up slowly in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. The thought of Hermione Granger seemed to haunt his mind and still, he had not come to the conclusion why this teenage girl—this woman—was invading his mind. It had been many years since he had been with a woman, yes, and how had she been any different? Perhaps it was the way she said his name when her he took advantage of her so stupidly (he still cursed himself to this day for ever touching her beautiful body), or maybe it was the way she would work with him on the potions he made so diligently, or the way he could trust her with some of his most prized potions tools and ingredients.



And yet, she was nothing but a girl raised in war time, who was turning into a warrior and growing up before her time. He had not meant to take her against the cold wall of a darkened corridor, but some sort of resolve within him broke and she took advantage of his cold, weak heart. Who was she, Hermione Granger, to break something he had built up for so many years being a spy?



There had been many nights when he laid in bed, forced to an unsatisfying slumber only by a Dreamless Sleeping draught, thinking of her. In fact the very night he took her, raped her, it seemed as if sleep were almost impossible. He remembered the words he incoherently said to as he reached his climax. He had meant to tell her how she dares come so close to his heart, and care so much about him. How dare she?



He also remember very clearly the moment when, while he continuing to pump in and out of her, he looked down into her brown eyes which were shining with tears, even in the darkness.



The very image made him throw an innocent potion vial sitting on his bedside table against the wall of his room, smashing it to smithereens.



And now, here Severus Snape sat in his office at his desk, his head held in his hands as he hunched over the desk. He could not say he was in love with Hermione Granger, for they spent little time together, but he cared for her safety. The young girl that once had bushy hair and bucked teeth, was now a beautiful woman that befriended a boy that was destined to die by the hands of one of the darkest wizards of all time. Yet, she remained friends with him and sacrificed her life to save the innocent, to save the people that also worked hard to fight against him.



Someone like him.



He realized that he was clutching at his hair, coming dangerously close to pulling the strands out of his head. The pain was there, but he did not care. Who was to say he didn’t deserve it? He once caused pain to someone who would’ve stayed by his side, but he had so arrogantly pushed away.



But Severus Snape knew he could not do anything to make amends with her, for then he would never again be the greasy bat of the dungeons that she knew him as. He would simply be an insecure man with a weak heart, and in all reality, he was. But she would never—could never—know that.



He lived without her once; he could live without her again. She was nothing but another silly little girl and she would always remain that way.



Suddenly he stood to go his personal chambers to take a shower when there was a scratching at his office door and a small envelope flew into the room.



Puzzled, and slightly annoyed, he wondered who could need him now. He had just decided to go clean up and of course someone needed him again. He huffed impatiently and walked over to pick up the letter and turned it around to open it when he noticed a familiar seal on the back. It was from Dumbledore.



How utterly typical.



He tore the letter open and pulled out the piece of paper inside and read. It only said a few words.



She has been taken.



Snape nearly dropped the letter when he read it. He could feel his blood boiling beneath his skin and felt absolutely livid.



Tearing the letter in half and throwing it into the waste bin, he threw open one of his cabinet doors with a loud bang and pulled out his traveling cloak.



Within a few moments, he was outside on the grounds running as quickly as he could to the next Apparation point.