Beneath the Surface

Beneath the Surface

Chapter the Fifteenthe: Ardor Most Foul

She had taken to watching comicomings and goings out of a secluded window which was situated in the small alcove where the stairs to the Gryffindor girls\' dorm were split into two. It was a very pleasant little spot, had a small window seat upon which lay an old but comfortable faded red cushion.

The window faced the foreground of Hogwarts, and, if she reached it in time, on some nights she was able to see Professor Snape striding down the long path which led to the entrance gates of the school. As the gates were quite far from the castle itself, Hermione couldn\'t make out where he went when he passed them.

She had made a plan—this time without Ginny—to one day follow him in secret all the way to his ultimate destination. How she would accomplish such a feat without his noticing her presence, she did not yet know, but she knew she\'d figure out a way. Hours of intense deliberation would see to that, as it always did when she was facing a difficult quandary.

After having seen him fly from the castle quite a few times in the last month (during which she realized that he had been doing this for far longer than she had been aware of), she came to find a pattern in what had previously seemed to be an erratic schedule.

If he left sometime during dinner in the Great Hall, which was when he usually chose to flee the school, she could expect his return at anywhere from 9 to 11 o\'clock at night. But if he left either very late in the evening or very early in the morning, Hermione would see the inky speck of his form slowly making its way up the expanse of grassy field to the main doors of Hogwarts just after sunrise broke the dusk.

She was always awake before the sun made its first appearance of the day, and had begun to creep to her window (for it surely was hers more than anyone else\'s, if only due to frequency of use) every morning when she saw the first rays of light brightening the darkened sky. Sometimes he was there, more often, he was not.

But coming to look out the window each day just in case he was there made her feel closer to him. Connected.

~*~

Snape hated being called away late in the evening; that meant he wouldn\'t get any sleep before the next day\'s classes, and so would be in a very disagreeable mood to the students therein. At least it kept the dullards quiet, though. He didn\'t think he could bear it if they were as noisy as they usually were on one of his ‘headache days\', as he and Dumbledore would refer to them in public.

The only good thing about the early morning meetings was that he was able to walk the grounds of Hogwarts as the sun was coming over the distant mountains which surrounded it. When he had been a student here, he\'d very much enjoyed getting up before dawn to stroll about the castle and watch the breathtaking affects daybreak would have upon the bucolic Scottish landscape.

So, if not for these clandestine gatherings, he wouldn\'t have any time in which to enjoy this spectacular view.

‘How\'s that for staying positive, Albus?\' His lip curled sardonically at the thought. The sun had just arisen to the point where it could shine directly into his face, fairly blinding his vision. He held a pale hand over his brow, shielding his eyes from the unaccustomed glare. ‘Who\'s that, then?\'

As his eyes had been traveling the expanse of the castle, which gleamed ivory under the morning light, he\'d happened to catch a tiny dot of red, upon which was planted an obscene amount of ginger hair.

A small crease appeared between his eyebrows; he always scanned the windows of the school on the mornings when he was traversing the grounds, and he had never before seen anyone behind them besides Filch or one of the other professors.
There had been the occasional errant student once or twice, but they\'d never been calmly looking out any of the windows so early in the day.

Watching him.

\"Granger,\" he whispered aloud to the air. He\'d known the person\'s identity even before recognizing the telltale hair; who else would be so concerned about his activities, or even know where he\'d be at this time? It was uncanny. But not unwelcome.

In truth, it felt good to return to his home (for that was what Hogwarts was to him for the majority of the year) after such a trying ordeal and see someone waiting up for him, someone actually caring about what he did. Never mind that it was an ingratiating, willful, purely Gryffindorian sliver of a student.

As he got closer to the school, he could make Hermione out much more clearly; clear enough to discern the worry in her face. He inhaled a deep gust of air, his body relaxing as he slowly exhaled it. It was too early for school, therefore, it was too early to have to make the effort to treat the girl as his student. Or so his over exhausted sense of logic pointed out to him.

Snape met the girl\'s eyes with as broad a smile as he could manage, considering his worn out body and unfamiliarity with the expression. Hermione returned it tenfold, her big eyes sparkling with blessed relief.

He saw her mouth start to form rapid syllables, but he was too far down to hear her. He shook his head at her and gestured to his ears. She appeared pensive for a moment, trying to decide whether or not she wanted to yell down to him and risk awakening the other girls in her dorm, who would no doubt question her intensely on why she was having a shouting match with that mean git Professor Snape so early in the morning. Not a good idea.

Perhaps she\'d use a rudimentary form of sign language with him, that was it. She rolled up the pajama sleeve of her left arm and pointed to the forearm with her right hand. Her eyebrows raised in question.

Snape knew what she was asking, even if she didn\'t, uncounconsciously touched his tattoo as he nodded his head affirmatively several times. Hermione let out a relieved breath of air and pressed both of her hands over her heart. Snape raised his eyebrow at the gesture curiously, thinking that it was a strange way for the child to convey her assurance of his safety, but he only smiled up at her and nodded again.

The sun was fast climbing higher in the sky, so now the whole of his body was illuminated by its glare. He had never been uncomfortable under direct sunlight, it made him feel as if he were on display.

He looked up at Hermione again and, remembering a motion muggles used to indicate the time, rather awkwardly put a finger to his wrist as if there were a watch there. After rolling his eyes at how stupid he must appear, he removed the finger to use it to point first to his chest and then to the entrance doors of Hogwarts, which lay just beyond where he was standing.
He had to go.

Hermione again nodded her understanding, albeit reluctantly, and waved an effusive farewell to him with both of her tiny hands. The thought of what would happen if anyone were to see this exchange between him and the girl made his complexion pale, so he offered her a curt bow of the head and hurried into the school.

‘I feel like an absolute imbecile...\'

‘I feel like I could fly without a broom!\'

~*~

Hermione could barely contain her elation throughout the rest of that day. She was fidgety, inattentive, and there was a faraway expression on her face even during her classes. Her distraction was so obvious that even Harry and Ron had taken notice of it, and the two resolved to question her about it at dinner that evening.

\"‘Mione?\"

\"Her-miiiii-oneeeee?\"

The boys were waving their hands in front of her face in an effort to capture her attention, much to the chagrin of Ginny, who was trying to eat in peace. When Harry snapped his fingers inches from her eyes, she finally blinked sharply and focused on the flustered faces of her friends.

\"Sorry, guys,\" she said in an overly bright tone. \"What is it?\"

\"What\'s with *you*?\" Ron asked baldly. Harry shot him a reproachful look, but when he faced Hermione again, his expression was all sympathy and seriousness.

\"You seem really... not yourself today,\" he said kindly.

\"What do you mean?\" Hermione asked absently, her attention already diverting to the Teacher\'s Table. Snape was gazing despondently down at his plate, absorbed in pushing the food on it around with his fork. His shoulders rose and fell in the tiniest of sighs. Hermione sighed along with him herself. Ginny gulped down her pumpkin juice, praying that the boys wouldn\'t follow the line of her gaze.

\"THAT\'s what we mean! Your head\'s always off in space lately, and it\'s... well, it\'s weird, Hermione!\" Ron burst out, banging his hand flat on the table. Harry placed one of his own hands against Ron\'s chest to still him; as always, Harry was the only person who could calm Ron down. Ginny exhaled silently, glad for her friend that her brother and Harry were still as clueless as ever.

\"He is right though, ‘Mione,\" Harry said gently. \"Do you see what we mean now?\"

\"I suppose,\" she conceded grudgingly, lower lip stuck out in a pout. \"It\'s just ‘cause I\'m overworked.\"

\"Then stop working!\" Ron exclaimed, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. Hermione glared at him darkly, a look which always subdued his enthusiasm. Worked wonders this time as well.

\"Listen, I just—\" She sighed, not knowing how she could explain away her strange behavior. Then, a brilliant idea struck her, one so devious that she knew there was no way they\'d ever argue with her. She flashed them her meanest look, one that even Snape could be proud of. \"It\'s that time of the month, ok? Now shut up about it!\"

Her friends blushed and looked down at their food in embarrassment, mumbling ‘sorry\' and ‘we didn\'t know\'. Hermione smirked to herself and rolled her eyes at Ginny, who was trying her best not to giggle aloud. The two friends had confided in each other, as young girlfriends will do, that neither of them had begun menstruating yet, but they didn\'t feel the need to discuss such matters with the boys. What business was it of theirs, anyway? Quite.

\"So, Ron, did you get the new Quidditch Queries Quarterly yet?\" Harry asked his friend awkwardly.

\"Er, not yet, Harry. Sorry. But I have gotten the new...\"

And off the boys went on yet another discussion of their one true love, quidditch. Predictable lot, the two of them were. Hermione and Ginny rolled their eyes again at one another in amusement and returned to their dinners. Unlike Harry and Ron, they liked to eat their meals in silence, as whatever they usually discussed with the other were not things they\'d want the boys to hear.

Plus, both of their mothers instinstilled impeccable table manners into their minds during their childhoods; though, to watch Ron eat, one would never know he and Ginny were related, despite the rather obvious physical resemblance they bore to one another.

And so the meal passed, Harry and Ron bantering back and forth, Ginny primly eating her meal, and Hermione studying Professor Snape.

Ginny had been about to ask Hermione why she wasn\'t eating anything when the older girl abruptly leapt from her seat, her eyes fixed intently on Professor Snape, who had also risen from his spot at the Teacher\'s Table and was swiftly striding to exit the Great Hall through the teachers\' door.

\"Hermione?\" Ginny whispered to her, gently pulling on the sleeve of her robe. \"Where\'s he going?\"

\"I don\'t know, Ginny, but I have to follow him,\" came the resolute reply. Ginny started to protest, but Hermione ignored her and hurried to leave the Hall by way of the students\' doors at the back of the room.

Harry and Ron had finally noticed Hermione\'s disquiet when she\'d suddenly fled their table, and gave Ginny questioning looks, to which she could only shrug dejectedly before bowing her head over her plate. The boys then faced each other, twin expressions of complete confusion etched over their features.

\"Now what\'s she on about, Harry?\"

\"I don\'t know, Ron, I just don\'t know.\"

They held one another\'s gaze for a moment longer before going back to finish their dinners voraciously and without a care. Only Ginny continued to sit in silence and worry for their good friend Hermione.

~*~

Though she was concerned about him, Hermione was thankful that Snape seemed to be in such a desperate rush, for he didn\'t take any notice of her as she followed a safe distance behind him. Hermione had placed a silencing charm upon her shoes (a rather advanced spell she was proud to have done correctly) so he wouldn\'t hear the shrill sound of their tapping.

He did not run, but the pace at which he walked was so fast that his voluminous robes flew out behind him like great bat wings; and he wondered why the students compared him to the animal. It was hard for Hermione to keep up with him, but she summoned her stamina and managed to do so through the winding path he took around the castle and finally out of a side door which led to the grounds.
Hermione waited for about thirty seconds or so before going through the door after him.

When they\'d gotten outside, where only scattered groups of trees dotted the immense stretch of grassy field, it was much more difficult to hide herself from him. He seemed so familiar with this route that he did not once look back over his shoulder, as he usually did; still, Hermione was not so foolish as to think that he might not sense her presence behind him. When Snape started down the long dirt path that led to the entrance gates of the school, Hermione darted stealthily from tree to tree in her efforts to remain hidden from him.

And she would have completely gotten away with her spying act if she weren\'t such an impulsive person. When Snape finally reached the gates, he murmured a spell to open them and then strode past them. After turning round to close them again with more whispered words, he wrapped his arms tightly around his torso and closed his eyes.

It all clicked for Hermione when his lips parted to cast the Apparation spell; she had (of course) read about it in a book that she\'d purchased on the casting of more advanced spells, and knew that if she allowed him to cast it now she would never find out where he was going. That was why she hadn\'t been able to see where he was going from her window once he got past the gates: because he Apparated to his destination!

With a startled gasp, Hermione emerged from behind the last tree on the path and ran as fast as she could to the gates. She had been going so fast that her body crashed to a halt against them, and she had to grip the bars with her fingers to keep from falling backwards. Snape\'s eyes snapped wide open upon hearing the jolting clatter, and when they focused on her form they narrowed in disbelief.

\"M-miss Granger?\" His body tensed as he began to get a grasp on the current situation. \"What in Hades are you doing here?\"

\"Yes, it\'s me,\" Hermione replied dumbly. \"I know this looks just dreadful, but I... I had to know where you were going.\" Snape\'s eyes darkened considerably, his nostrils flaring in anger. A tremor of terror ran up her spine, but she didn\'t dare move and clutched the metal bars so tightly her knuckles turned white.

\"Miss Granger, this is highly inappropriate. I order you to go back to your Common Room, right now!\" he snarled.

\"You order me?\" she repeated, piqued by his sudden lapse into authoritarian.
Before she could go on, however, Snape drew closer to the bars, peering furiously into her face through them.

\"Yes, I order you! Now, get out of here, girl! I\'ve had about enough of your—\"

All of a sudden, Snape winced in pain and doubled over, clutching his left arm with a strained, white hand. Hermione\'s deeply hurt feelings were overruled by fear for him; she wished she knew what was wrong with him so she could at least try to help make it stop.

\"P-please, Miss Granger.\" He was trying desperately to make his voice sound dispassionate, but his eyes, as they bored into hers from underneath a curtain of black hair, were openly begging. \"L-let me go. I h-have... to go.\"

A solitary tear slid down Hermione\'s cheek; though she wanted more than anything to get him back into the school, she knew that she could not refuse his plea. She nodded her head, not trusting any words to slide unhindered past the lump that had developed in her throat, and squeezed her eyes shut as if in pain, leaning her forehead against the bars.

\"T-thank you,\" he whispered, the powerful aching of hisy ley less evident in his voice. \"I\'ll be fine. I promise you.\"

Hermione felt long, cold fingers coil around her own between the bars of the gate. Her heart swelled almost painfully at the contact; never in all the time that she\'d been his student had Professor Snape ever touched her hands, not even to guide her movements during Potions.

And now he was holding her hand in his, and it felt like he had her very heart clenched within his fingers.

But when she opened her eyes again, the fingers were gone, and so was he.

~*~

As she waited for Snape\'s return deep in the dungeons, Hermione made her decision: she was going to tell him how she felt. This little charade could no longer exist between them. She had no idea what would come of her admission, but it had been hidden for far too long, and she owed him the truth of her intentions.

There would be no more lies.

He\'d held her hand today; would he have done that if he didn\'t rether her feelings at all, not even a little bit? The action had been more than enough to steel Hermione\'s resolve. Enough was enough, he had to know. She didn\'t know how much longer she would be able to stand being in his presence as it was without being able to tell him how much she cared for him, without being allowed to touch him. The time had come.

Hermione let out a shaky, determined breath. She hoped she would be able to confess her feelings in an adult enough manner for him to even consider them.

\"Good evening, child.\"

The familiar, now beloved, silky voice startled her, but she quickly regained her composure and smiled widely at its owner. He looked so tired and pale, Hermione noted sadly. He was leaning against the wall opposite where she was standing, and she wondered just how long he\'d been there before approaching him.

\"‘Evening, Professor. ...Are you alright?\" she asked quietly, her voice concerned. Snape allowed the sentiment to wash over his frayed nerves, calming him. He gave her a small smile.

\"I\'m perfectly fine, as I promised. Just a bit tired is all,\" he said softly.

She couldn\'t help blushing at the mention of his earlier promise to her. So he had taken it seriously, that was a good sign. Hermione cleared her throat, unconsciously mimicking his way of introducing a new subject.

\"Professor, would it be alright if I spoke with you about something for a moment?\" She waited nervously while he appeared to consider her request.

\"Very well,\" he finally sighed. \"Go ahead.\"

\"Um...\" The full weight of what she was going to say fell upon her heavily, but she would not let herself be stopped now. \"May we talk about this in the classroom? I, er, don\'t want anyone else to hear it.\"

Snape was far too weary to take what she\'d said as strange, so he nodded his head in agreement and started down the hallway to the Potions entrance (teacher\'s, of course), beckoning her to follow him. The silencing charm she\'d placed upon her shoes earlier in the day had long since worn off, and she was very conscious of the way their clicking resounded in the stone corridor.

After Snape uttered some words under his breath, the heavy door creaked open and they passed through it, Snape closing it behind him and leaning his back against it tiredly once inside.

Hermione stared at him blankly for a long time, until he finally sighed and raised an eyebrow pointedly. She leapt to attention.

\"Oh! Sorry, sir,\" she started. ‘Okay, Hermione, now act grown-up. You can do this.\'

\"Sometime tonight, if you would?\" he asked sardonically. She shot him a withering look, which he returned to her fivefold; ok, not a good way to start out here. She started to walk closer to him, tilting her head in an almost teasing manner.

\"I\'m not going to ask you where you\'ve been, I know you said you\'d tell me in time. I suppose I just wanted to... talk to you a bit tonight.\" Yes, that\'s how she\'d start out, with the talking they always did.

\"Was there anything in particular, girl? Because I\'m rather anxious to get to sleep before morning, if you don\'t mind.\" He rolled his eyes at her wounded expression. \"Oh, don\'t look that way, I didn\'t mean to hurt your feelings.\"

He had never said that particular statement to anyone before (or felt the need to, as far as he could recall), and it sounded foreign coming from his mouth. The girl seemed to be buying it though, judging by the smile on her face, and for that he was grateful. Now to get her out of his rooms...

\"Professor?\" Hermione asked him quietly, a coy lilt to her voice which, combined with her close proximity to him, was making Snape very uncomfortable. Was he so tired that he hadn\'t even noticed her approach? Yes, she was far too close for comfort now, standing barely five inches away from where he stood!

He was beginning to suspect through the haze of his mind that she was doing these things on purpose.

\"Yes, what do you want, Miss Granger?\" he asked her, not bothering to hide the suspicion from his voice. He was regarding her skeptically from the corners of slanted eyes. Hermione smiled at his question, as if it gave her a much-needed opening.

\"I want to hear more about you,\" she said insouciantly, her eyes sparkling. \"In all of our talks, I\'ve gone on and on about myself...\"

\"You certainly have,\" he cut in sarcastically. She continued on as if she hadn\'t heard him.

\"...and you\'ve barely spoken a word.\" Here the girl looked away from Snape, suddenly seeming to have gotten shy of him. \"I wish you\'d tell me more about yourself. I want to get to know you.\"

\"But you do know me, Miss Granger,\" e sae said, knowing full well what she meant, but wishing fervently for her to cease her ingress into his mind. \"I am your Potions Professor, I teach you how to bottle fame and tow glw glory.\"

Hermione did not respond to the teasing, genuinely upset that he was refusing to let her in. She had moved so close to him that she was standing practically between his legs. He had to suppress the instinct to shrink away from her.

\"You know what I mean, Professor,\" Hermione ground out, trying her best not to seem insolent. \"I want to know you, I want us to know each other. As people, not just teacher and student!\"

Snape couldn\'t control himself any longer, he simply would not allow this to go on. He rose swiftly from the desk, not caring that he\'d nearly caused her to fall back onto the floor, and gripped her arms forcefully. She squealed in pain, but he ignored her, bending forward so they were directly eye to eye. Hermione\'s toes barely touched the ground, so strongly was he holding her up; she felt insubstantial, as if she could be far too easily blown about lso mso many leaves in the wind.

\"Miss Granger,\" he enunciated coldly, his voice physically hurting her heart; it felt as if icicles were being cast at it with his every word. Her eyes filled with tears of anguish and confusion, but his remained bleak as they bored into hers, black as night and without a single glint of light in them. It was as if she was staring into an abyss, his abyss.
\"I hadn\'t been sure until just this moment of what, precisely, you wished to accomplish when coming to speak with me. But now that I am, it is my duty to impress upon you that what you have in mind, this abomination that you are devoted to, will NEVER come to pass between us. Do you hear me, girl? Never. It is wrong and it is despicable.\"

Hermione squinted at him through pained, tear-soaked eyes. Even now, she would not give up what she had been fighting so hard for. There was a resentful bitterness in her tremulous voice when she spoke to him.

\"Y-you say it is your duty, but is it what you really want?\"

Snape\'s eyes widened in fury, appalled at her audacity. He shook her violently, her body so light she felt like a rag doll in his hands.

\"Don\'t play games with me, girl!\" he spat at her contemptuously. \"I won\'t suffer a fool to try to make one of me in my own dungeons!\"

\"I\'m not playing games!\" she shouted with a passion that surprised the both of them. \"This is serious, I am serious about you.\"

Snape sneered down at her, and if looks could kill she\'d be nothing but dust at his feet right now. He released her from his grasp as if throwing away an object which he\'d lost interest in and turned his back to her.

\"Serious about me,\" he mocked her, voice fairly dripping with derision. \"And I had thought that the only thing that could capture the romantic attentions of a repulsive, little know-it-all like you would be a book. Tell me, Miss Granger, if I were a book, would you suppose that you possess the proper amount of cerebral stamina as well as raw intellect to be able to read me all the way through?\" He tilted his head just slightly in her direction so she could view the contemptuous curling of his lip before he dealt the final blow. \"I think not.\"

Tears ran freely down Hermione\'s pale cheeks, her heart plummeted sickeningly into the pit of her stomach. She had tried her hardest, and she had lost. She had failed. She had never failed at anything in her life until now. He had marred her permanent record by withholding himself from her. She choked down a sob and turned eyes that glittered with rage upon Snape\'s rigid form.

\"And if I were a potion, sir,\" she bit out, anger causing her voice to shake, \"would you pay me as much careful attention, give me as much of your time, and...\" She inhaled the frigid air around them deeply, and when she let the breath go, so too did her wrath seem to dissipate, leaving her small body a hollow shell in its passing. \"And love me as much as I want you to?\"

\"I cannot love you, Miss Granger, and I do not,\" Snape assured her icily, yet a trace of remorse was visible in the stooping of his stance. His heart was aching for the child, but he knew he could not show her any sympathy.

He would miss her, he thought wistfully. She was such a sweet little girl. But that was all she was, and all she ever could be to him. He repeated this fact over and over again in his mind as Hermione cried pitiably behind him.

After taking a moment to collect herself, Hermione wrenched open the door and tore recklessly through the corridor. She didn\'t know where she was going, only that she needed to get away from him.

If only she\'d never been late to his class those many months ago, the events concerning him that followed that incident would never have taken place. If only she hadn\'t wondered what lay behind those cold, black eyes of his. If only she hadn\'t seen all the good that existed within them. He would still have been her harsh Professor and the only things she\'d crave from him would be better grades.

‘If only\' was the thought that echoed in both of their minds all through the rest of that unfortunate night. If only they could know it.