Dark Days

AN- Song lyrics used in this chapter are by Michelle Branch from the song Goodbye to you. And I was going to make you wait a bit longer for this chapter but I couldn’t resist posting it. Ah well, I’m sure I’ll get few complaints.


Dark Days Chapter Seventeen – Grave memories

Severus had been out of the infirmary for over a week now and had not seen Hermione once. Their last conversation played on his mind and he brooded over it. The well known frown lines became even further etched on to his brow. He loitered about his dungeon not really knowing what to do with himself. He didn’t know what he had done and that bothered him almost more than her hostility itself. At least if he knew what he was being blamed for then maybe he could accept it, but as it is he had no idea and pride prevented him from trying to question her further.

She herself lived in a state of confusion. A part of her deep inside wanted to believe that he was innocent and every sight of him was a knife to her heart. But another part just couldn’t cope with everything. She was drinking more than she should and was disgusted with herself for it. But nothing seemed to matter anymore. Her work and friends gave her no joy and she tried to solve the issue by avoiding it. Thus far it wasn’t working. It was one particular night that stood out most in her memory afterwards. Once more a bottle in her hand she had leafed idly through an old photo album. Pictures of herself and Harry and Ron smiled and waved back at her and she felt mortified at what she had become. Mustering up her strength she threw away the bottle, resisting the urge to throw it against the wall and pouring it out down the sink. She wanted to cry but no tears would come. Examining her face in the mirror she realised that she didn’t really know herself anymore. Leaning back against the wall she slid down it and huddled on the floor for a while.

Unbeknownst to her, down in the dungeons Severus was doing the same thing. Gazing at himself in a silent muggle mirror, as magical ones annoyed the shit out of him, he too realised that he no longer knew himself. But while Hermione dealt with this revelation by pulling out more old photographs to try to work out where she had gone wrong, he marched off to see Dumbledore. The old man always seemed to know what to say and he valued his advice.

Soon he was seated in the comfortable armchair by the fire. Albus could not fail to notice the repetition of his life. Not long ago Hermione had sat where Severus now sat, and he wondered if he would be any more successful with Severus than he had been with Hermione.

“How are you feeling my friend?” asked Dumbledore jovially when they were seated comfortably.

“Like I’ve spent months in hell oddly enough,” the sarcastic tone so idiosyncratic of him well and truly back in place.

“Well that’s to be expected. I’m so sorry for what you went through.”

Severus shrugged unwilling to think of it, or to admit how close he had been to breaking point. “There’s one thing I want to know. Since I’ve been back Hermione’s been…well…cold and hostile towards me and I don’t know why. So now I damn well want an explanation. What the fuck happened?”

Albus gazed steadily at him. “I see no-one has yet told you,” he murmured.

“No they bloody well haven’t and I think I’m entitled to an explanation. Don’t you?”

“Yes, yes more than entitled.” He sighed, “Our Hermione’s been through a kind of Hell herself recently.”

“Odd, I didn’t see any visible scarring.”

“Her parents have been killed Severus.”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “But why is she being harsh with me?”

“Because we thought you did it!” stated Albus simply.

“What but that’s absurd, how could it have been me?” he raged.

“You disappeared without a trace, no word to anyone…”

“And so you immediately assume! Well thanks for your vote of confidence!” he spat.

“We did not assume. The Weasley’s saw you, or a man bearing your guise.”

“But you thought it was me? You did not think I could have been captured and a Polyjuice potion made?”

“We wanted to believe it, but you had been acting oddly for days, weeks. And you…the killer was wearing a ring.”

“Many men wear rings.”

Albus nodded, “Indeed they do, I have several myself, very fine Albanian craftsmanship mainly. But anyway, it had special significance. It was the ring that Hermione gave you.”

Severus’ hand moved unconsciously to his finger, noticing for the first time that it had gone. “But no-one knew about that ring, how would it have been recognised?”

“Molly Weasley saw Hermione choosing it and giving it to you. And that was what gave us greatest concern. For if you had turned would you think to remove the ring? And if you were not, then how would the enemy know the significance of the ring? Had they been watching, or was it merely a lucky chance for them? Hermione, to say the least, did not take the news well. She had to be restrained, her wand removed and often bound to a bed to prevent harm to herself and others. She completely lost herself. She wanted you dead and then to quickly follow suit. Those feelings are hard to shake loose Severus.”

Severus was quiet, finding now words to say that could match the enormity of what he was hearing.

“After she recovered some semblance of self she was released. We tried to reach her but to no avail. Then one day she disappeared. Very successfully I might add, we were at a loss to find her, but then she never did do anything by halves. For months she lived alone in the wilderness and big cities. She was trying to find herself again, and she had not completely succeeded yet. A part of her has never forgiven you for what she thought for so long she thought you did, and another part has not forgiven herself for believing it. And still more importantly she has not grieved for her parents. Not one tear she shed for them and never once has she visited their graves. Until she does she will never move on. And we cannot reach her until she does. This is why she treats you as she does Severus, she is not out Hermione at the moment, and God only knows when we will get her back.”

The shock that Severus felt was overwhelming. He hardly knew how to deal with the situation let alone begin to imagine what Hermione was feeling. Yet at the same time he was hurt, deeply hurt by the fact that she had doubted him, doubted his love and doubted his soul. Admittedly he didn’t have the best of records but even so, he had never been anything but honest with her.

“Maybe if I were to go and try to talk to her?” he suggested.

“You may do more harm than good. I doubt very much that she would even listen to you at this stage. She is even withdrawing further from her oldest friends.”

Severus slumped, this was crazy. He sat by the fire long into the night and Albus left him to his thoughts. It was almost midnight when Severus got up to leave. Albus was immediately there;

“I’ve had an idea Severus; I think I’ll hold another party. It’ll keep moral up what do you say?”SeveSeverus inwardly groaned. He hated parties with a vengeance and Albus’ were always ridiculously over the top.

“Yes, yes I think that’s a splendid idea,” the old man continued. “I’ll announce it in a few weeks when most of our patrols are back. Capital, capital.”

Severus merely nodded and left quietly.

Hermione was on her way down to the kitchens for the coffee that she couldn’t be bothered making herself. It went against the grain to ask a house elf but at this point she didn’t care. At this point her need for caffeine was greater than her morals. She saw Severus making his way back to the dungeons from the direction of the headmaster’s office. They saw one another and both stopped. The few seconds they spent gazing at each other were the longest Hermione could remember. Then he broke eye contact and carried on his way. Emotions once more raged inside Hermione and she hated it. She wanted the cool sensible Hermione back, not this addled, emotional fool. She took a deep breath and continued on her way to the kitchen.

* * * * * *

The Order of the Phoenix was gathered in the great hall at Hogwarts, officers and soldiers all together. It had been over three weeks since Severus had been pulled from the clutches of Voldemort and there had been no retaliation. And everyday that passed brought newcerncerns. Why hadn’t he struck yet? What was waiting for? Whatever it was it wouldn’t be pleasant. So Dumbledore had felt it necessary to give them all a rousing pep talk.

Hermione sat three people down to his right on the long table at the top, usually reserved for teachers. Severus was seated to his immediate left, and she was carefully avoiding his eyes. He too seemed rather intent upon staring ahead. Hermione’s words a few days ago had hurt him deeply and he retreated into his usual sarcastic bastard, man of ice persona to cope with it. Dumbledore’s explanation softened him slightly towards her, but with every passing day he found it harder to cope with, and harder to believe that they would ever have anything again. Or that what they once had meant anything then. And their friends and colleagues watched them in sadness, they had really hoped that these two would patch things up. They were good together and they were good for each other. But no-one couake ake Severus talk about it, and people had stopped trying to broach the subject with Hermione fea fear that they would be hexed into the middle of next year.

Hermione zoned out throughout the talk. She had heard most of it anyway. But then one particular sentence caught her attention.

“Anyway, as it seems we have a small respite, I feel it would be wise to take advantage of it and have a little fun. So I’ve invited The Weird Sisters to play for us tonight and we’ll have a bit of a party.”

“Another one?” thought Hermione. It was only January 30th and they’d had a party on New Years Eve. Sometimes she thought Albus had an unwholesome interest in parties. Or maybe she was just miserable, but personally she preferred small quiet gatherings among friends; but she knew that she’d be expected to attend. She groaned inwardly, but forced her face into a smile. Maybe she could fake a headache halfway through and get out of it.

Severus was thinking similar things. What was Dumbledore thinking of? He knew that this had been coming, but he had half hoped that Albus would change his mind, apparently not. Now was hardly the time for parties. He scowled and many who saw him were reminded of horrible potions lessons they had had with him. His bad temper certainly seemed to be returning.

The rest of the room however seemed positively thrilled at the prospect of a party. Women and girls immediately began planning what they would wear and the men looked forward to seeing the women and lots and lots of alcohol; and women with lots of alcohol inside them.

The crowd that left the hall were considerable more cheerful than the one that had entered it. An excited babble filled Hermione’s ears and she felt remote, detached from it. She got up and began to leave with them; she felt eyes watching her as she went. She didn’t turn to see who it was, she thought she knew. She could see the black eyes that followed her in her mind perfectly.

* * * * * *

The evening came all too quickly for Hermione. Her afternoon had been spent with an excited Cho and Padma fussing over what to wear and how to fix their hair. It had been annoying, but she had put up with it, just wanting to get the night over and done with. So she had let them fuss over her, force her into a deep emerald green dress that had spaghetti straps and a low cut back which fell to the floor in graceful folds. A long slit ran up to her thigh and on her feet were green satin slippers. Her hair they piled up on top of her head and attached a silver clasp to hold it up, with silver strands that wound through her hair and cascaded down her back. Once Hermione would have been delighted by such a look, but now she merely suffered it.

Cho herself wore an elegant black strapless dress with a fishtail skirt. Her hair she left loose but slightly curled so that it toppled gracefully over her shoulders. Padma looked equally sophisticated in a crimson cocktail dress and hair pulled up and piled atop her head. Golden sparkles glistened in her hair and at her neck shone a simple gold locket that her sister had given her.

Together they cut an elegant picture and cut through the crowd like a hot knife through butter. Severus, Harry and Ron were talking quietly in a corner when the girls entered and all three immediately stopped talking to watch their progress through the room. Harry and Ron instantly excused telveelves and crossed the room to meet their beautiful partners. Severus watched them leave and wished that he could do the same, and then cursed himself for the feeling, having resolved to forget about her. Hermione saw him there watching her and turned away. A part of her felt the need to parade herself and show him what he had thrown away. So when Terry Boot asked her to dance she gracefully accepted and began to think that maybe tonight wouldn’t be such a pain after all.

Severus too turned away then, wondering when he could leave and not wishing to see Hermione on the arm of anyone else.

Hermione actually managed to forget about everything for a while that night and just enjoy herself. Well, almost, she did take sadistic delight for a while in watching Severus’ reactions as she flirted with Terry and danced close by him. Every smile she flashed Terry was a knife to his heart and every time she touched him took away some of the warmth from his body.

It was about 11 O’clock when the song came on. Hermione had taken a break from dancing and was sat with a glass of orange juice (she wtickticking to non-alcoholic with a stubbornness that only Hermione could muster) while Terry danced with Lavender. Severus had excused himself about 10 minutes before and gone home, so even that game was denied to her. She felt weak and drained now. The last few weeks had been an emotioupheupheaval, one minute wanting to laugh, the next to cry and seconds after that break anything within reach that she could lay her hands on. And then came that song. A song that brought up lots of memories that she had long pushed aside. It was the last straw, the one that broke her and pored out the bottled up emotions.

‘Of all the things I’ve believed in
I just want to get it over with
Tears form behind my eyes
But I do not cry
Counting the days that pass me by’

Her hand started to shake and she took a sip of her drink. Images of her mother and father flashed before her eyes, an str struck her suddenly that she had never cried. Tears welled up but she forced them back.

‘I’ve been searching deep down in my soul
Words that I’m hearing are starting to get old’

Her father playing catch with her as a child and teaching her to ride a bike.

‘Feels like I’m starting all over again
The last three years were just pretend
And I said…’

Her mother baking in the kitchen, her and her dad stealing hot cakes from the tray. She shook her head to clear it and quickly gulped down some more drink.

‘Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything I knew
You were the one thing that I loved
The one I tried to hold on to’

Long choked sobs began to well in her throat. She had lost them. They were gone!

‘I still get lost in your eyes
And it seems that I can’t live a day without you’

Severus came to mind and she tried to push those thoughts away. The rest of the room had faded and there was no noise that she could hear save for these words that struck at her heart.

‘Closing my eyes and you chasethouthoughts away
To a place where I am blinded by the light
But it’s not right

Goodbye to you
Goodbye to everything I knew
You were the one thing that I loved
The one I tried to hold on to’

The glass that she held in her hand she dropped and it broke on the table and shattered glass littered the table and floor at her feet. She jumped up and raced out of the room grabbing her cloak as she went. With some difficulty she began to run down the steps at the front of the castle, and finally giving up she kicked off her shoes and ran barefoot. The ground was wet and icy but she hardly noticed.

It took her less than a minute to reach the gate where she could apparate from and immediately shimmered and disappeared. When she reappeared she was at the base of a dark hill not far from the Burrow. She took a deep breath and for long minutes she could not move. Then with an urgency that took her breath she began to scramble up the side of the wet hill. Her feet slipped and slithered on the sodden grass and her numb foot was cut on a stone, she didn’t notice. In her hurry she trod on her dress and the sound of ripping met her ears, she didn’t care, what did it even matter? Tears long held inside finally began to fall as she reached the summit and saw in the gloom two headstones beneath the ancient oak tree.

She could not move but pulled her cloak more tightly about her and sobbed. Eventually she plucked up the courage to go closer and see what was written on the tombstones. There were only their names and Hermione felt distinctly upset that no-one had thought to put anything else. But then, she supposed they would not have known what to say. Maybethe the end it was up to her. She pulled out her wand, but could not say anything through the tears.

Miserably she curled up on the cold ground and sobbed, great wracking sobs that shook her body and took her breath. Time stopped, it had no meaning here. Whether she lay there for a minute or an hour she could never tell you. Eventually her sobs grew less and she once more pulled out her wand to alter the headstones. But her mind was blank. What could she possibly say that could express the loss that she felt? There were no words suitable.

Reaching out she touched them, brushing her fingers lightly across them. Her wand lay forgotten on the floor. She put her arms around them in a last embrace and started to cry again. Quieter this time, the gentle tears of regret and insufferable loss. Again the time slipped away as she lay in bitter pain.

When she finally pulled away to contemplate what to add the stones she found that she had no words in her at all. Her mind was devoid of thought, and only grief lay where once was knowledge and joy. Above her the sky darkened with clouds and a faint rain began to fall. Her feet were numb with cold and she wrapped herself up in the cloak. Her fine dress was covered in mud and her hair was bedraggled and half falling out.

The rain grew steadily heavier and the distant rolls of thunder sounded in her ears. No natural storm this she instinctively knew, but a present from the enemysignsigned to fill them with gloom. It perfectly matched her mood.

Finally she knew what to say and reached for her wand, but before she touched it words began to scrawl across the stones;

Beloved Mother and Best FrieRestRest here in peace forever
And may thy soul find joy


Father
Strength to me in need and love
Remembered in joy
Rest now and know that I love thee

She looked in wonder at those words. Had she done it without knowing? Or where had they come from if now. The archaic language seemed strangely fitting and her sobs ceased. Her confused mind was in no state to comprehend what had just happened.

A long time she sat gazing at those words, remembering the two whom she had lost. At length she rose, tears pouring once more, but silent this time. Carefully she conjured two roses, one red and one white and laid them on the graves, there to bloom forever. Then with one last lingering look she turned and walked slowly back down the hill, wincing at every step for the pain in her cold feet.

Now a new dilemma formed in her mind. She had said farewell to her parents and finally admitted to herself that they were gone. Could she now forgive Severus? There was really nothing to forgive after all. She could see that now. Her despite of him was a defence mechanism. As long as she had someone to blame her parents weren’t really gone. But she had seen the graves now, she knew that they were. Could she bearfindfind him? Would he even forgive her?

The words of the song came back to her. ‘And it seems that I can’t live a day without you, closing my eyes you chase my thoughts away,’

She had lost her parents, could she bear to lose him too?

* * * * * *

Harry and Ron had watched Hermione run from the hall over three hours earlier, but Padma and Cho had stopped them from following her.

“She needs to be alone,” Cho had said.

“But where is she going?” asked R
“
“To see her parents,” said Padma.

The two men had looked at each other in bemusement. But now they were worried again. It had started to rain over two hours ago and was now a full blown storm. Outside trees cracked and swayed and the rain lashed at windows and doors.

“She’ll be fine,” murmured Cho to Harry.

“Will she? She’s not herself at the moment. I worry about her.”

“I know you do, but she’ll be okay, really.”

He looked doubtful, she kissed him sofand and said, “I’m going to bed I’m tired.”

“Too tired for me to come with you?” he asked mischievously.

“Never too tired for that!” she grinned and they left the room together.

* * * * * *

The great house loomed up before her ominously. Illuminated by lightning it was a daunting place to approach and Hermione’s heart was not sure that it could cope. She was already more than half ready to bolt back to Hogwarts and pretend that nothing had ever happened. Determinedly she forced herself to move forwards. Every step brought back a fresh memory of him and of the time she had spent here many months ago. Before she was halfway down the drive she was in tears again. She had never known that one person could cry so much, and the tears mingled with the rain and left salty trails on her cheeks. Her heart pounded against her chest with such a power that she thought it would burst.

The great oaken door was before her now and before she could loose heart she lifted the great knocker and let it fall. For a long time she stood and bolting began to seem like a good option again. At last however the door swung open, as if by itself and she stepped inside. A tiny house elf behind the door pushed it shut again and welcomed Miss Hermione back to the manor. It was Tikki and she wished that she could find something to say to the little creature but her mouth was dry and no words would come out.

From the landing a dark figure watched her stand there, doubting why she had come and almost shouting out to make her leave. But at last he began to swoop down the stairs. She saw him coming and took a step back, fresh tears running over the old and sobs welling up in her throat. She felt like a little girl once more, cowering in a corner, fearing a punishment.

At last he stood before her and for long minutes they stood in silence, drinking in each others faces and neither sure of the feelings of the other. Tikki, knowing her place had left and they were alone.

The silence became unbearable. At length and with great effort Hermione forced out a sentence. “I’m sorry,” it was barely audible.

Severus had been determined not to be swayed by anything that she said, but as soon as those words were spoken his heart melted. Hermione, unable to stand any more from the pain in her frozen feet and the exhaustion that comes from constant crying; she sank to the floor. He knelt beside her and pulled her close, with a great sob she wrapped her arms about him and sobbed into his shoulder. They say there for long minutes holding one another and taking comfort in each others arms.



AN – I was going to keep them apart a bit longer and spread out the suffering over a few more chapters but I couldn’t bear ny lny longer. I hope this doesn’t come across as too rushed, but my heart was breaking with them apart. As it was I was nearly in tears writing this. Hope you enjoyed! :D