Understanding

Once Again.... Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and the songs (unless stated otherwise) belong to Evanescence. And Severus is mine. Oh, I know he's not really, but it's so much fun to pretend!

Understanding
Chapter Sixteen:
Listen To The Rain

****Open your eyes to the love aroyou you
You can feel you're alone
But I'm here still with you
You can do what you dream
Just remember to listen to the rain****

My outburst at Dumbledore had surprised me, but I would never regret it. For the first time in my life, I had taken a stand for myself. Not for House Elves, not for Harry. For me. For some reason that fact brought on the realization that I was indeed a grown-up more than anything else had before. Maybe that's what growing up is, I realized with a lump in my throat, looking out for number one because no one else is going to. It was a depressing thought, but I suddenly knew it to be true. Growing up was all about being cynical and judgemental. Growing up was being jaded and hard-hearted. And as I looked across the lake at dawn I realized one more verportportant thing.

Growing up sucks.

I had left Severus' bed very early in the morning, unwilling to leave his warmth, but unable to face Dumbledore should I exit the room with Severus. For all of my bravado the day before, I was still very wary of any attention that may be focused on my brand new relationship with Severus, and I also still really, truly respected Dumbledore.

No wonder Ron had always called me the spineless wonder. The man had manipulated Severus in more ways than I could count. He had tried to ruin my life. But I still respected him. Spineless, indeed.

So, in the early hours of the morning I collected my belongings and deposited them in the entrance hall. Slowly and uncertainly, I made my way out onto the grounds. I had known I would have to do this sooner or later, and I supposed today was about as late as it could get.

Though I'd travelled the grounds many times that summer, I'd never been able to concentrate on anything around me. I'd never been able to look at the patch of grass where Crabbe's body had fallen as I'd killed him. I had always averted my eyes as I passed Hagrid's hut. I'd never once ventured the the field of the Quidditch pitch, though I'd come to know that the stands were perfect for sunbathing and had used them for just that occasionally.

But all of that had to change today. If I was to leave Hogwarts- REALLY leave Hogwarts- I had to come to some sort of resolution. I had to say goodbye to the ghosts. So that morning I walked straight up to Hagrid's now-empty hut and let myself inside. I saw the fireplace where Norbert had hatched ane coe corner where we hid from Lucius Malfoy under the invisibility cloak. I sat there on one of the gigantic chairs for a good hour, crying and remembering, trying to forgive myself for being alive. In that hour I wanted nothing more to stay in that chair in that hut as if by my mere presence and will would bring them all back and when I opened my eyes, they would all be there eating (or trying to eat) Hagrid's rock cakes. But with a final glance around, I knew there were other ghosts to be put to rest that morning. Wiping my eyes, I exited the hut and headed for the Quidditch pitch.

Except for the lack of rain and the warm temperature, this morning was eerily similar to that one in April. I stood alone on the field and saw my friends once again, lying where they died. I cried eacheach and every one of them and hated myself for being alive. For a moment I wanted nothing more than to trade my life for theirs or to simply join them all in death. But just as I began to wail inconsolably, I swear that I could feel them with me. No question at all. They were there around me like they had been all along. My tears were immediately silenced, and for the first time since April, I realized they had never left me.

It is a hard feeling to describe. In the past, whenever anyone said they felt a dead person around them, I used to think it meant something spookily supernatural. I thought they actually felt phantom arrounround them or kisses on their cheek, and I- number one- did not believe any of it, and number two- was frightened out of my fucking mind that it would happen to me. After my grandfather's death when I was six, my mum had insisted she not only felt him with her but that she had seen him in her rocking chair one night. From that moment on until I went to Hogwarts, I slept with my blankets covering my head at all times and anytime I had to go to the bathroom during the night, I closy eyy eyes and hoped there were bstabstacles between my bed and the toilet. For some reason I was never scared of the ghosts at Hogwarts- maybe because they were just so accepted in the magical world, but in my heart I was still a Muggle, and the thought of seeing my dead friends' ghostly forms was more than I could bare. But what I felt was nothing like that. That morning, through some unconventional method of communication, I felt their peace flow through me, and in that instant I felt all the guilt and grief and misery run away from me. It was like the way you feel when you genuinely smile or how you feel after you've hugged a loved one- not the physical sensation, but all the emotion of love and caring and happiness. It felt peaceful and calming.

It felt like home.

It sounds silly and cliche, but I felt them smile on me, and I knew that while I would continue to miss my friends for the rest of my life, I would never mourn them again.

As dramatic as I've described it, at the time it did not seem the epiphany it was. It is only after years of remembering that moment and thinking on it that I have realized the little details of that morning that came together to bring me closure and comfort. All I knew then was that for the first time in months I felt free. For the first time in months I felt like there was a reason I'd survived.

Smiling at the sunrise and taking a deep, mind-clarifying breath, I simply made my way off the field.

"I love you, mates," I whispered, realizing for the first time that, at least when it came to love, I would never have to use the past tense.

As I made my way to the entrance hall, I hoped Severus had found the note I'd left for him and hadn't done something stupid like getting drunk or cutting himself. For his stoic exterior, I was still amazed that he was so emotional and overreacted so much. I had to smile, however, as I entered the castle and saw him waiting for me. I grinned at him but stopped as I caught one of the Snapiest Professor Snape glares I had ever seen in my life. I realized why when two seventh year Ravenclaws passed by. Even when he was happy Severus Snape was still a bastard to students. I bet my parents' friend the psychologist (can't remember his name- he was dreadfully boring) would have wet dreams about untangling all of Severus' hangups. With a tiny smirk, I decided to bypass him altogether and give a very tear-filled goodbye to Minerva. The woman hugged me as tightly as she had the morning of my parents' death, but as soon as Minerva spotted Severus, she broke away and dragged me over to him.

"I cannot tell you how happy I am for you, Severus," she gushed after pecking him on the cheek. He wiped his face as if he'd been slimed by that green thing from "Ghostbusters." After all, there were students making their way to breakfast. How was he supposed to keep up the evil Professor Snape persona if the students saw him let Minerva McGonagall kiss him? I giggled a bit at the thought and received another trademark glare.

"Miss Granger, I assume you're ready?" he drawled in a bored voice loud enough for the loiterers to hear. I merely nodded and with a weak, "yes, Professor," we grabbed my things and headed to our apparation point in Hogsmeade. As soon as we were out of the view of students I began grinning broadly though we didn't speak for quite some time.

"Hermione," he began as we neared the gates of the castle, "I must ask you to not address me as 'Professor' any longer." As I gazed up at him with my big innocent doe eyes, I knew I had him exactly where I wanted him.

"Why ever not, Professor," I asked, eyelashes batting. I bit my lip in a futile attempt to stop the images running through my head. He would have denied that being an authority figure got him off, but I knew that disciplining a naughty Head Girl had been at the top of his masturbatory fantasies for quite some time. Scenes of myself bent over a cauldron in an obscenely short, tight uniform were most likely currently driving him mad.

"If I have to show you, Miss Granger, you shall be very unhappy," he growled, desire barely held in check in his voice. I decided that after months of being denied him, I had to take this opportunity and play it for all it was worth. I grinned wickedly as I turned my face up to look him straight in the eye.

"Ooh, sounds kinky."

"Hermione!" He was rapidly turning red and his eyes were wide, but I simply giggled and took his hand. He tried to keep up a facade of annoyance, but my hand nestled in his was quickly testing his resolve. Luckily we soon stepped off of school grounds and in the bustle of apparation, the subject was forgotten.

As we popped into my parents' home, I immediately fell silent, and I didn't have to look at him to know he realized I had begun crying silently, but entirely passionately. Instinctively, he moved closer to me and wrapped his arms around me. I did not say anything but he held me closely as I sobbed. I knew this would be hard for him as well as for me- the last time he had been here Dumbledore had caught him with his pants down (or off, if you want to be techincal) and the time before that he had come to find my father dead and my mother dying. I knew he would never be entirely comfortable here, but I was so thankful that he would escort me home anyway. Oh, who am I kidding? He wanted to get laid, that's why he came home with me! I smiled at the thought, and after several minutes I sniffled and looked into his eyes.

"Thank you."

"For what, Sweetheart?" Not again! Another petname? Something must be wrong with him!

"For not telling me everything will be okay."

"It won't be."

"I know. But that never stopped anyone else from trying to console me by telling me that." I was once again tearing up and as if he was staging an intervention, Severus held me by the forearms and looked into my eyes.

"Why don't you take some time to go through things. I know this can't be the easiest day of your life. It wasn't for me when I came back to my parents' home. What was left of it, anyway. You go upstairs and do what you need to do. Just be down here dressed for dinner at 8:00 and not a minute earlier. I have a surprise for you."

I knew he had something up his sleeve! That entire speech was just a little too rehearsed and contrived. But I trudged up the stairs anyway. I knew he was right; I did need to go through my parents' things, but I was sure he had just suggested that activity to get me out of his hair while he planned whatever it was he was planning. I was excited but wary. With the exception of the journal he had written me, he had never done anything remotely romantic that I could remember. And that journal was actually more scary than romantic. That journal let me know just how unhinged he could be- it was written mostly in what my father would have called "crazy talk," and more than half of it hadn't even been coherent. But it was from Ses ans and I loved it.

Entering my parents' bedroom, I was strangely unemotional, and I found that I made quick work of clearing my father's closet. There were a few shirts of his that I particularly loved that I kept for myself and some that were too well-worn to do anything but throw out, but most went to a pile to give to charity. The same was true of my mother's clothes. They did not induce any real strong reactions from me. But my mother was a pack rat, and the clothes were regrettably the least space-consuming items in the closet. Soon, I was pulling out books that wouldn't fit on the bookshelves, excercise tapes she hadn't even opened, old photo albums, letters I had written her, Christmas wrapping paper, blank greeting cards she collected obsessively "just in case." I was almost to the floor of the closet when I came to a wrapped box with my name on it.

Perplexed, I lifted the box. Not Christmas wrapping paper, but not birthday either. My mother had also bought presents about three years in advance. Seriously, she would have had her Christmas shopping done by August. Shrugging my shoulders, I opened the card. It was a graduation card, and the thoughts of that day made tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I slowly read it anyway.

*Hermione,
We can never express how proud of you we are and how much we love you. You brought the most joy to our lives the day you were born, and no matter what you decide to do, magic or Muggle, we believe in you.
Love always,
Mum and Dud*

Goddammit! My mum's notes always made me cry! No matter if she wrote me a shopping list, she would have slipped some form of "I love you" in there and made me tear up!

Slowly, I unwrapped the box and opened it. Inside was an ornate music box featuring a castle in the background and a girl who looked strangely a little like me with fairy wings leading a unicorn in the foreground. Underneath the word "Believe" was inscribed in beautiful caligraphy. I set the box down as gently as I could and wailed loudly. Why did I find this today? Was it providence that I should find a gift for myself on my birthday? All I knew was that my parents had always believed in me even when I hadn't believed in myself. They had always been there to tell me to tough things out, and in a way I guessed they still were.

I cannot say how long I sat there on their bedroom floor wailing and playing with the music box. It played a terribly poignant song that my mum and I had both loved from an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical called "Whistle Down the Wind." The play's main character was a girl whose mother had just died, and the song was called "If Only." It was the girl's realization that nothing in her life would ever be exactly right again. I find it hard to believe even now that all of these elements- a music box featuring my magical world and the one word I had probably heard most from my parents except for "love" and a song that not only my mother and I had loved but that was actually relevent to the situation- came together and were revealed to me on the same day. My birthday, no less. But as I wiped my eyes and stood to get ready for dinner I remembered something my mum had always told me when I said something was unfair: "God works in mysterious ways." I believed that now, and if God didn't the ghosts of my parents sure did.

***************
While Hermione unpacked, showered, and prepared, I set to work on her birthday surprise. I had never been adept at such things, but I figured her eighteenth birthday was a big enough occasion for me to put in some effort. Thanking all the powers that may be that I was a wizard, I quickly swished and flicked my way through her living room, lighting candles and conjuring roses in every empty space.

Even I smiled a little. It was so romantically cheesy.

At about 6:00 I heard a pop behind me and was relieved to see Dobby who I had enlisted to do the cooking as I was bloody useless at it. Glad to have some time for myself, I went up to the guest room (the one with a real bed) and unpacked the few things I'd bought for Hermione. I could hear her in the shower and so was sure I would not be interrupted. Except, of course, by my own thoughts of Hermione in the shower. Two of the four items I'd brought with me were gifts any moron could have picked out for her- a book on charms, well over a thousand pages long, and a hardcover copy of short stories by her favorite Muggle author. The third gift was a shorter, sweeter, more sane journal I'd written for her, and the fourth gift, in a tiny blue velvet box, was the special one.

I had racked my brain over what to get her for weeks. Everything I thought of was either too predicatble, to trite, or too corny. I refused to get her any of these things; I knew she deserved more. I was utterly lost and hopeless as far as her gift was concerned until the night before she left and she once again lay next to me. She had fallen asleep quickly- emotionally drained from her showdown with Dumbledore- and as she turned over, a flash of silver caught my eye. She was wearing the Claddagh I had taken off her dead mother. My mind began to work overtime and a plot was quickly hatched. I immediately knew what I would get Hermione for her birthday.

With another flick of my wand, the gifts were wrapped and I began to ready myself. I had packed a black dress shirt and pants (go figure), but had a sudden desire to spend an inordinate amount of time in front of the mirror. My hair wouldn't do anything I wanted, there was suddenly a blotch on my face, and for some godforsaken reason one section of my left eyebrow was standing on end and simply would not tame. Finally after about an hour and a half preening, I was so frustrated that I pulled my hair back in a ponytail, tried one last time to tame my eyebrow, and flipped off the mirror when I could not get the blotch to go away. Gazing at the clock, I decided to head downstairs. Hermione was under strict orders not to reemerge until 8:00, and I wanted to get downstairs before she did as I knew she'd be early.

Entering the kitchen, I noticed that Dobby had taken my rose motif to a different level altogether. The flowers popped up in every room and two long-stemmed ones were draped elegantly across Hermione's plate.

"Professor Snape, sir. You is looking good tonight, sir." I wondered for a moment if he was being sarcastic, but I didn't think elves were capable of it. Smoothing the front of my shirt, I pretended to check for lint in a lame attempt to hide my rapidly reddening cheeks.

"Er... Um... Thank you, Dobby."

"You is welcome, sir," he replied while moving to finish his work. At about 7:45 he announced he was done and promptly apparated back to Hogsmeade. It was just in time, too, as Hermione appeared in the doorway, early as predicted.

"Oh, Severus!" she cried before throwing herself into my arms. I smiled as she wrapped her arms around me. She looked up at me, a grin plastered on her lips. "You're the best!" She sighed and laid her head against my chest once again.

"You look beautiful," I managed to squeak out. The sight of her had nearly left me breathless. She truly did look gorgeous in a slinky but sweet black dress that allowed me to feel every curve of her body through the material, and I felt all of my emotions were rapidly deteriorating into the stuff Muggle pop songs are made of. She smiled up at me and kissed me tenderly.

"You don't look so bad yourself," she teased, eyeing my ponytail.

"It's... I... " I felt myself flush and I looked away from her embarrassed. I knew I should have worn it down and found some kind of cosmetic to cover up that thing on my face.

"Shh! I was joking! You look fantastic. Like every dream I ever had," she murmurred contentedly as she lazily trailed her fingertips along my neck.

"Happy birthday, Hermione." I broke away from her and pulled out her chair. She looked impressed, as if no one had ever done so for her. Then again, look at who she used to spend all of her time with. I would be surprised if Harry Potter and Ron Weasley even used utensils when they ate. So we both sat and enjoyed the wonderful dinner Dobby had prepared (yes, I know what you're thinking, and yes, I let her think I made it). After dinner I gave her her gifts, and as I had hoped, she saved the small one for last. Opening the charms book and the one by Stephen King, she was ecstatic, and I was certainly glad she was so damn easy to please. I could have bought her a book on the mating habits of termites and she would have been just as excited. As she unwrapped the journal, she smiled broadly and thanked me, adding that "this one might even be completely in English." I gave her a scowl, but I know by that time she considered it nothing more than foreplay. She smiled back at me, and as she unwrapped the small box, I held my breath suddenly nervous she would resent the gift or think it presumptuous. She gave me a questioning look as she slowly lifted the lid of the tiny hinged box, and as she did, her face froze in an expression of shock and her free hand came up to cover her gaping mouth.

'Oh, Severus," she breathed as tears fell silently from her eyes. Great, she was crying again. Now I was afraid I'd overstepped my bounds and offended her. But my fears were vanquished as a wide grin broke out through her tears and she began to laugh. "It's so beautiful!" she proclaimed as she proudly placed the delicate silver (okay, white gold- you didn't think a Snape would buy jewelry that wasn't the highest quality, did you? The only thing that stopped me from buying it in platinum was the fact that I would have had to wait for it to be custom made) ring on her finger. It was a Claddagh with a sapphire heart, exactly matching her mother's necklace that even now hung around her neck. Before I knew it, she had jumped out of her seat and thrown herself into my lap.

"Thank you so much!" She held on to me tightly and soon her lips had found their way to my ear. "And I love you so much."
I smiled and whispered back.

"I love you, too." She kissed me then, sweetly and softly, and as the kiss ended I felt her smile against my lips.

"I know it's my birthday and all, " she whispered, "but I have a present for you I hope you'll enjoy." She kept her face hidden from my gaze as she nuzzled against my neck but I could feel the heat emanating from her flushed, embarrassed cheeks.

"Oh, Sweetheart, I'm sure I will," I responded, unwilling to jinx it if she was really offering what I thought she was offering. Shyly, she looked me in the eye and took my hand.

"Well, it's in my bedroom if you'd like to come." She giggled a bit at the choice of words but stood slowly and led me upstairs.
****************A/N******************
Thanks!

Florentia: Glad you liked it! I'm happy to serve you! Don't let Shem hear me say that! I've already promised to serve her!!!

deblovesdragon: Oh, Number One, you'll just have to wait and see! No hints even for my right hand super-hero and defender of justice! Thought of a name yet?

WendyNat: Thanks! You rock!

Deb: Thank you, thank you, thank you! I blushed profusely when I first read your review! You are too kind to me! Thank you for the Valentine- it was BEAUTIFUL!!!

Jenny7611: Thanks!

Kiristeen: Thanks! Glad to make you giggle!

JennD: Thank you and I most certainly agree about the piano benches. Wasn't a music major for nothing ;)

Zephyr: You're not really disappointed there's no smut yet are you? Hope not!

RedWritingHood: Thanks! Glad you liked it!

ASWitch: Thanks. Duly noted

spaz141: Thanks! You're too nice!

PinkTribeChick: Thanks! It's coming as fast as I can manage (ooh- sounded a little naughty!)

pyewacket: Oh, it's coming! Smut is coming! Be patient! Thank you!

*******I will be adding another story soon (mostly comedic), but don't worry- I will not be taking any time away from this story as it is my baby right now. Updates on both will be slow because of my work situation, but they will be coming! Read and review both, why don't you? It'll be fun! Go on- review it and I'll time you and see how fast you can do it! Ready... SetGO!*GO!*******