Don\'t Look Back
Chapter 2
Author’s
Note: Hey, hope you
enjoy this chapter and please review!
By the time
dinner began that evening, Madame Pomfrey had decided
Hermione was recovered enough to attend the meal. As her robes had been torn to
complete tatters the previous night, Minerva had transfigured some robes to fit
Hermione’s short frame. Hermione sat on her bed in the new robes, weaving her
thick curls into a braid. She sighed softly and brushed a few loose curls out
of her eyes. She was inconceivably nervous about going down into the Great Hall
and facing all the professors and students of the school. Standing up straight,
pushing her shoulders back and raising her chin confidently, she suddenly
winced as a twinge of pain shot through her stomach. The wounds covering her
body had been healed, but she still had the deep scars, which twitched with
intense pain quite often. She had to apply a disgusting, sticky salve to the
scarred area twice a day, which smelt strongly of damp and stinky feet.
Gritting her teeth against the sharp pain, Hermione strode across the Infirmary
and slipped out of the door.
Her
experience the night before with the boolooga was something she wouldn’t forget
for a long time. However, she could still hardly believe that it was Professor
Snape who had saved her. God knows if she would even be alive now if he hadn’t have
found her. There was a time not so long ago that Hermione wouldn’t have
considered that such a loss, but she was beginning to find meaning in her life
again. She shuddered and repressed the depressing thoughts. And he had accepted
her on an apprenticeship! She could barely believe he was the same man who had
tortured her for seven years and even made her cry with a few cleverly chosen
snide words. Still, she had seen glimpses of the professor she remembered – his
sneers and disdainful looks were unmistakeable. And how could she forget her
years in his classroom when they were still referring to each other as
Professor and Miss Granger?
She stopped
in her stride. She had been so immersed in her own thoughts that she hadn’t
realised where she was, but her feet had automatically guided her along the
familiar corridors. She was standing at the top of the staircase leading down
to the entrance of the Great Hall. Students and Professors were swarming around
the open doors. Taking a deep, calming breath, Hermione walked down the stairs
and into the thronging groups of children.
As she
entered the room, she was acutely aware of the students all around her glancing
up at her curiously, whispering and pointing. Trying to keep her confidence,
Hermione returned their stares with smiles and finally reached the Head table,
where Albus greeted her warmly.
“Hermione,
my dear, you look lovely!” He told her, guiding her towards a seat.
“Thank you,
Professor,” she replied, sliding into the chair.
“Albus, my
dear. We are colleagues now after all!” Hermione nodded as he moved away to his
own seat at the centre of the table, greeting other professors briefly.
Hermione, three seats to Albus’ left exchanged a small wave with Minerva, who
was sat to his right. She then turned to Professor Flitwick
on her left and settled into a quiet conversation with him.
Shortly
after the students had taken their seats, chatting noisily about the day’s
events, the staff door behind the Head table clicked open and a tall figure
swept silently into his seat on Hermione’s right.
“Good
evening, Professor Snape,” she said to him as he surveyed his students at the
respect, which he acknowledged with an abrupt nod of his own.
“Miss
Granger,” he returned formally, keeping his gaze firmly ahead. Just then, Albus
tapped on the side of a glass to gain the attention of the hall.
“Good
evening, everyone. I’m afraid your aching stomachs will have to wait
momentarily whilst I make a short announcement. I would like to inform you that
Miss Hermione Granger back to Hogwarts for a Potions
apprenticeship. I fully expect you all to welcome her and treat her with the
respect you would give to any other professor.” Hermione smiled as the students
and staff clapped her politely, a few older boys wolf whistling making her turn
red.
As the meal
progressed, Hermione tried to survey the man sat next to her as inconspicuously
as possible. She noticed for the first time how exhausted he looked – his time
as a double agent was clearly taking its toll. His hair was still as lank and
greasy looking as ever, and his skin was a stark pale in contrast to his black
clothes and hair. She watched him eat his soup. Without turning his head or
indicating he was speaking to her in any other way, he said,
“Is there a
problem, Miss Granger?” She jumped slightly at the sound of his voice.
“No,
Professor,” she said quickly, returning to her own meal. There was a short
moment of silence. “Actually, yes.” Severus raised an eyebrow in response and
turned to her amid the rest of the staff’s conversations. “I would appreciate
it if you would call me Hermione.” Hermione waited for response, expecting to
be told to call him Severus.
“And I
would appreciate it if we could keep a professional distance between us, Miss
Granger,” he replied starchily. Hermione
stared at him in surprise for a minute before clearing her throat and turning
back to her plate.
“Of course,
Professor,” she replied stonily.
They passed
the rest of the meal in silence.
“Now
Hermione, your rooms are going to be down in the dungeons, near Severus for the
ease of your training,” Minerva told her as she guided Hermione along the
corridors. Great, she thought, living near my favourite antisocial bat. How
could she have been so stupid as to actually think he had changed? He was just
as much of a self obsessed sadist as ever.
When the
pair reached the steps leading down to the dungeons, the temperature dropped
dramatically and the air smelled pungently damp. Hermione shuddered
uncomfortably.
“Here are
your chambers.” Minerva swung open a heavily bolted door which led through to
her rooms. They were small but surprisingly homey, consisting of a small lounge
with a simple kitchen area, a bathroom and a bedroom. The furnishings were
practical but comfy, with a spacious desk near the large fireplace. “We’ve sent
some owls to your parents’ house to collect your belongings, but for now there
are some clean robes in the wardrobe. I’ll leave you to get settled in – sleep
well, dear.”
“Thank you
for everything Minerva, I appreciate it so much.”
When
Hermione was alone in the room she explored for a while, using her wand to set
wards on the door. Since her own was wand was broken in pieces somewhere in the
middle of the
wand until she was able to go to Diagon Alley to
purchase a new one. Walking through to the bedroom, Hermione stripped and
quickly applied the salve to her scars before collapsing back into the pillows,
falling asleep within minutes.
The next
morning at 8.30 exactly, Hermione knocked softly on the door of Professor
Snape’s classroom. Seconds later it was flung open by the man himself. He
glowered at her.
“You’re
late,” he snapped, slamming the door behind her.
“It’s
8.30!” She exclaimed in outrage.
“Actually,
Miss Granger, I think you’ll find it is now ty ety eight minutes to 9. Late.”
She looked at ind indignantly as he strode past her to his desk. Old
morning! “No matter,” he continued, his temper fading as quickly as it had
flared. “Go through to my office, I’ll join you shortly.” He gestured vaguely
to a door behind him.
The room
was small and crammed with many different texts in floor to ceiling shelving.
There was a large ornamental fireplace and a huge desk which dominated the
room. It had a dark, cold and foreboding ambience – rather like the man
himself. It seemed perfect for intimidating younger students. The door clicked
open and Severus entered the room.
“Through
here,” he instructed her and she followed him wordlessly to a smaller room
leading off the study. It was a small laboratory filled with cauldrons and
potion making equipment. “Now, I want you to make this contraceptive potion –
Madame Pomfrey’s supplies are running low. I trust
you will be able to follow the instructions correctly?” Without waiting for a
reply he continued. “I have a free period later so I’ll come and assess your
progress then.” Without another word he swept out of the room, leaving Hermione
grumbling to herself about having to make a potion a five year old could do in
their sleep.
Several
hours later Hermione had successfully completed the potion, bottled it and
taken it up to the Hospital Wing. When Severetureturned to the lab he found
Hermione cleaning the work bench.
“Finished?
Good. I need you to go to the library and pick up a book from the Restricted
Section.” He scribbled a title onto a scrap piece of parchment.
“What’s it for?”
“A potion.
I’ll explain later. For now just make sure you get the book and bring it here.
Come back after lunch.” Hermione picked up the paper and headed to the library.
As she mounted the steps leading up from the dungeons, she read the professor’s
neat script. Dangerous Potions for
Dangerous Minds. She wondered what the hell they would be making from a
potions book with that title.
After
having collected the title from the library, Hermione dropped it off in
Severus’ study before heading to the Great Hall for lunch. She ate her meal
hurriedly, keen to get back to discover what potion they would be making. When
she arrived, Severus was bent over a gently simmering potion. The room was
filled with noxious smelling gas and it was sweltering hot.
“There you
are,” he said distractedly. Hermione rolled her eyes and quickly shed her outer
robe.
“So what
are we making?” He stood up straight, folding his arms across his chest and
leaning back against the bench.
“A potion
which has a similar effect to Obliviate.
It’s called Memoria
why might we be creating this potion, Miss Granger?” Hermione thought for a
moment before replying.
“To attempt
to create an antidote for the potion, which would be a step towards curing
before turning back to the potion.
“Correct,”
he said as he began to stir the potion with slow, measured stokes. Ten
clockwise followed by ten anticlockwise. His carefully anticipated movements
were almost hypnotic. After the twentieth stoke, the potion let out a slight
puff of yellow smoke and turned from a pungently bright green colour, to a
deeper, murky sea green.
“Go to that
cupboard,” he commanded, pointing towards a tall structure in the corner of the
room, “and remove the jar of shredded bat’s heart. Cut it into square pieces.”
Hermione did as she was told without comment, dicing the ingredient as Severus
continued stirring the potion slowly. When she had completed the task, he
directed her to, “Add the ingredients to the potion as I continue to stir.
After doing that, use your wand to lower the flame.” She quickly tipped the
bat’s heart into the simmering solution and removed her wand from an inner
pocket.
“
she muttered. However, instead of having the desired effect, her new wand
spluttered, sending a few sparks out of the end before a blast of light shot
out of it, hitting the cauldron and tipping it side. He. Hermione gaped in
horror as she anticipated what was about to happen. Powerless to stop it,
Hermione could only watch as the cauldron teetered for several long moments
before toppling over and spilling the putrid liquid within all over the table.
She watched in abject horror as great gloops splashed all over Severus’ darkly
clothed chest, dripping down his robes and splattering onto the tops of his
shining black boots. His eyes narrowed dangerously at her as she rushed towards
him, apologies spewing from her mouth.
“Out,” he
interrupted her coldly.
“Prof-“ she
started.
“Get. Out,”
he repeated darkly, anger flashing in his eyes. Hermione stared at him before
fleeing the room, once again feeling every inch the fumbling schoolgirl.
Hermione
rushed down the dank corridors of the dungeons, keen to put as much distance between
her and Severus as possible. But suddenly, she stopped. Why should she run away
just because he told her to? She turned determinedly on her heel and strode
back the way she had come. Marching through his office to the lab, Hermione
fumed inwardly. She wouldn’t let him treat her like a stupid little girl
anymore – she wouldn’t give him the chance.
Her
confidence suddenly flooded out of her as she stood in the doorway to the room.
He had taken off the soiled robe and was now wearing just his fitted black
trousers and a loose white shirt. He spun around as he heard her in the door
and spoke to her in a menacingly soft voice, his eyes boring into her own.
“Yes, Miss
Granger?” He hissed, moving towards her. “I believe I made it clear this
apprenticeship was over, did I not?” For a moment, she just gaped at him. He
seriously thought he could end her apprenticeship after one accident?
“No,
Professor, you obviously did not make that clear as it seems I am back here,”
she replied coldly, raising her chin to look him in the eye. He raised an
eyebrow. Her blood boiled as she realised he was employing his favourite ever
technique of mocking her.
“Indeed,
Miss Granger?” He bent his head very close to hers and whispered nastily in her
face. “I warn you, Miss Granger, I am not a very nice man. Do not try and
undermine my authority.”
“Why the
hell not?” She yelled in his face, clearly surprising him by answering back. “I
didn’t realise you had any authority over me any more – you told me just a
minute ago that my apprenticeship was over.”
“Do not
test my patience, Miss Granger. Get out now and don’t come back. The only
reason I accepted you on this apprenticeship was because Albus bribed me with
the DADA job. And not even that is worth the torture of spending the next
twelve months in your company.” As he finished, pure hatred shone in her eyes
and she raised a hand and slapped him hard around the face. He stumbled
backwards, astonished she had hit him. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and
spoke in clear, cold tones.
“Thank God
because if I had to spend another second in your despicable presence I might’ve
thrown up all over your remaining clean clothes, you greasy – haired git!” And
with that she spun on her heel, her face flushed and a fiery glint in her
chestnut eyes. Severus Snape just stood motionless for a few minutes. He had
just been hit by a girl!
Hermione
burrowed her head further into her soft pillows and groaned loudly. There was
no way he would accept her back now – she had ruined everything just because
she had let him get under her skin and annoy her. She rolled onto her back and
closed her eyes, quickly submitting to sleep.
she could, her heart pounding in her chest and her breath coming in short,
sharp gasps. She could hear the creature behind her, its snarls resonating in
the dense thicket of trees surrounding her. Glancing over her shoulder,
Hermione could see the glaring red eyes glowing through thrk nrk night. The
creature suddenly leaped and she screamed out in fear and pain as it landed
heavily on top of her, knocking her viciously to the ground. Its claws grasped
into the material of her robes, scratching the skin as it flung her suddenly
onto her back.
luminous red eyes flashing in the small pointed face, the boolooga growled and
began descending towards her neck, its fangs glinting dangerously in the
moonlight. She screamed as it pierced her skin and she desperately clung onto
consciousness and pushed weakly at the creature. Her head lolled and her body
lost all its energy and she looked up through bleary vision as the crre
re
retreated. She squinted in confusion as the creature’s sharp, pointed features
morphed into Severus Snape’s smirking face, his eyes glinting down at her.
– what was he doing here? His lips fell onto her neck, soothing where the
boolooga had bitten her skin so brutally. He licked and kissed at the tender
broken flesh whilst Hermione’s head rolled back onto the leafy floor. His body
was heavy on top of hers as he trapped her beneath him, his head finally coming
up to press against her ear. She shuddered as he licked the shell of her ear
and blew on it gently, the cold air sending a shiver through her tensed limbs.
His arms wrapped around her waist tenderly and lifted her weak body to a
sitting position, leaning her against him. She whimpered softly as pain shot
through her and he stroked her hair.
an
style='font-size:10.0pt;font-family:Arial'>“Ssh, Hermione, ssh. It’s alright,
I’ll look after you my darling,” he intoned softly. She moaned at his silken
voice and snuggled her head into the crook of his neck. Feeling completely at
ease in his arms, she wrapped herself around his broad chest and glanced up at
his face. She gasped in conflicted horror, pleasure and surprise at the sight
of Charlie’s familiar friendly smile. She tried to sit up but his arms trapped
her in their iron grip.
muttered softly into her hair, his face pressed close to hers. “I’m sorry – I
never should have done it. I hurt you didn’t I? Look at me, Hermione, look at
me my darling.” She raised her head slowly in response, afraid to look the man
she had loved for so long in the eye. As her gaze travelled up, his mouth
suddenly opened in a horrendous sneer, hisnt tnt teeth sharpening and
lengthening horribly into fangs, his gentle eyes narrowing and red fire
glinting in their depths. He pushed her roughly onto her back, holding her
still as she struggled and screamed for release. A scream rang through the
deserted woods as the fangs sunk once again into her bruised skin.
Hermione
woke up suddenly, gasping, a scream dying on her lips as she sat up in her
sweaty sheets. The room around her was spinning rapidly as her erratic heartbeat
thundered all around her. She twisted and turned feverishly in her tangled
sheets, trying to escape from the restrictive blankets. Freeing herself
abruptly, she tossed herself out of the bed and stumbled across the darkened
room. She frowned dizzily as she tried to discern the door to the bathroom. Her
head was throbbing dramatically and she pulled a heavy, leaden arm up to feel
her burning forehead.
Her stomach
lurched suddenly and she fell into the bathroom as she felt the bile rise in
her throat. She collapsed against the coolness of the toilet seat as her
stomach lurched again and she coughed against the burning sensation at the back
of her throat. Despite the heat she had felt just moments before, she shivered
suddenly in the early morning chill. Supporting her head as she stood from the
floor, she stumbled slightly, and grabbed the door as she made her way slowly
through her rooms. She picked up her wand from her beside table and muttered
croakily,
“
up as she strained to speak. She squinted in the sudden light and shaded her
eyes as an ache spread through her senses at the brightness. She felt confused
and disoriend and and her brain didn’t seem to be functioning properly. She
knew she had to seek medical help but she couldn’t even think how to get to the
Infirmary. As she left slowly through her chambers, the only thought in her
fogged mind was to find Severus.
Hermione
stumbled deliriously through the cold corridors, her arms wrapped tightly
around herself in an attempt to quell the shivers. The short walk to Severus’
quarters seemed to be a mile long trek as she headed through the deserted
hallways, her bare feet curled against the freezing tiles.
Finally
reaching the thick wooden door of his chambers, Hermione slumped wearily
against the wall as she knocked weakly on the heavy door. Struggling to stop
her eyes from rolling back into her head, she forced her brain to coordinate
her hand to bang once again on the wood. She slipped slowly down the wall, her
legs loosing all power to hold her up. She prayed desperately that Severus had
heard her as she finally lost all consciousness.
Severus
stormed angrily through his chamb qui quickly pulling a robe on over his night
clothes. Who the hell had the gall to disturb him in the middle of the night!
Probably Filch with some stupid little idiots he’d caught lurking about in the
corridors. He flung open the door and glared out. There was nobody there. He
fumed as he realised some brainless little brat must have knocked on his door
for a dare and scarpered. About to slam the door shut, he suddenly noticed a
small, dark heap slumped against the dungeon wall. His eyes narrowing in
suspicion, he bent to inspect the bundle.
“What the?”
He said as he realised it was Hermione Granger’s unconscious form camped out by
his chambers. She was barely breathing and as he touched her arm he felt she
was burning hot. Quickly swinging her into his arms, he entered his chambers
with her, wondering what had happened and why she was outside his door.