Lucid Dreams

Chapter two: Firestarter


A cold calculating gaze cast around the darkened classroom. Each chair parallel to the next and each set of desks adjacent to the first. This was his own little private masterpiece, this room in which he could mold and shape the minds of so many. Though he’d never admit it to anyone. Severus Snape is a very private man. His eyes darted down to his forearm where beneath his black sleeved shirt, the skin was mangled and torn.
For one very strict reason he would always be a private man.
Yet in some cosmic array of the Gods conspiring to torture him he’d found himself once more thrust into the threshold of some inane fuck up that no one could have ever foreseen.
“Severus my boy, Why do you insist on sitting in the dark?” Candles brightened the room sufficiently as a clearly not- as-dead-as-he-was-supposed-to-be Albus Dumbledore. The figure sneered and turned away with a quick motion of his body.

“I have better things to do than listen to the musings of a dead man.” The older wizard glowered for a moment before picking his face up from off the ground.
“I had to do what was right for the wizarding world…” The slytherin launched forward, gripping the older male by his collar and holding him, his face inches from his own.
“Sending mere children to do your bidding, men and women dying in a pool of their own blood and you have the gall to return unscathed and delivering the final blow to Voldemort’s body! That was an honor for those who stood by long after you left….not for you…never for you.” He let his fingers slip, a dark hatred rising beneath his chest.

“Fine…but what would you have had me do? Hmm? The boy shook Severus..”
“No I don’t want to hear this….”
A hand clamped down on his shoulder.

“He could never have killed him! He couldn’t have killed him just as much as he could those heavy handed family members of his.” Snape’s eyes wandered, picturing the bloody field and bodies strewn about. Children and families clinging to life on the opposite sides of the battlefield. He remembered, remembered the bezoar up heaving itself from his gullet at the worse possible moment. He was laid down around other former death eaters. Ones who in the end were also apart of Dumbledore’s grand scheme. He recalled touching Lucius’ face like a brother and the tears raking down his cheeks.
His mind finally settled on Potter, his wand dropping from his fingers as he buried his face in the Granger girl’s bosom. The Weasel sneering and pushing him off as Dumbledore stepped between them and a wounded and laughing Dark lord to deliver the final blow.

With a furtive shake of his head Snape craned his neck. “What is it you wanted to talk about Old man…make it quick.”
Albus nodded.
“It’s about the Charm’s Mistress…”

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Fumbling with the clasp on her robe, Hermione entered the Great Hall. Students laughed cheerfully, others tossing random items of food at one another. Yet somehow she seemed to make the noise simmer to a dull murmur at her passing. Some of the younger boys making lurid finger motions as she sauntered by. A chuckle went up as some ignorant 4th year yelled “Boned any new Quidditch players?”
Her steps faltered for a moment. She cast her eyes up at the Dias; the staff awaiting her arrival with downcast eyes and obvious snickers. Minerva’s face was red with mirth, coughing over her breakfast with an expression of pure delight.
She’d forgotten. Almost…she was not the Gryffindor angel she used to be. Her stride quickened. In the faintest parts of her mind she could hear the laughter of three loving friends…then the silence of the room when she finally was able to take her seat. Thousands of eyes peered up at her. Most with looks of a secret happiness.
All because of one thing…she’d failed.
Professor Sprout cleared her throat, the room falling quiet as she stood.
“Due to current situations with a certain Charms mistress…” The room lit up with chuckles. “We as a staff have decided to post pone all her tests and exams until further notice.” A cry of utter joy rang out from the children. Granger had sunk low in her seat.
Right…she’d gotten that owl yesterday. Wasn’t that a Tuesday?
In her mind she mulled over inane things. Minerva had taken the children’s attention now. She was talking about how it was “not fair to treat her any different “and how “she is still your Professor and her ex-husband has nothing to do with your teachings”.

Something caught her ear…It was faint at first but soon her heart lurched at the sound. No, not a howler but a talking missive. Rita Skeeter’s voice illuminated the hall.
“So you are to say that your marriage ended badly with the Missus Weasley?” Hermione clutched a hand to her throat. His boyish voice following soon after
“That’s Granger and you’ll do well to remember it. The bird was Madd, first off. Couldn’t cook a good meal to save her life!” More laughter followed.
For some reason, she noticed through the burning tears of humiliation, Snape’s chair was empty. Not empty, completely missing.
Albus grinned from his headmasters chair before he burst into shards of glass...

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Granger’s eyes creaked open. She’d fallen asleep in her office. Her classes’ assignments strewn about the desk haphazardly …Tiny fingers curled into fists. She screamed. Roaring and tossing files and paper into the air as if she was having some sort of cruel ticker tape parade. Outside the door Hogwarts stood still, catching all her anguish till she was a spent heap of human flesh and cloth on the floor. Sitting on the tiles she murmured….brushing a hand through her hair. The murmur turned into a sort of song, a hymn of sorts as a smile graced her lips.
“I was listening Ronald…I listened every time…”

Hermione wasn’t there. Not physically teetering on the brink of insanity in her Hogwarts study but back. 5 years prior when she’d caught her love holding down Dawn Weasley, their 4 year old daughter. His hands tangled in her frothy hair as he held the babe down, face first into his lap. His head was thrown back in pleasure, eyes closed as the little child suckled him as she once did her mother.
“Dawnie…luv…” Her eyes filled with moisture as the memory of her daughter looked up. Gap toothed from losing her first baby teeth she smiled. “I’m helping daddy mummy! He says that you don’t do it right…” Her head descended.
The pervert’s eyes turned back as he came.
She’d leapt then; beating at him as she could. In the end it was her precious child who called the authorities. It was also her dear husband, who at the time had just broken into the Quidditch industry, who had taken their child and dared her to try to get her back.
“I have money and power ‘Mione. Something you just don’t have. With all your fucking brains you still wouldn’t be able to beat me.”

By now the witch had moved. Vacating the gold and red rug from the hollow space under her desk. The door thumped hard every so often as children piled into the class adjacent to her office. Each bump causing her to jolt, her eyes wide with fear. She wasn’t there again, Hermione was back at home, hiding in the bathtub as a drunken Ron pounded at the door.
“Let me in you fucking cow!”
She’d stayed with him.

The red head shook, terrified of what was behind the door. She choose him again. The pounding increased and softened as he waned in and out of drunkenness.
“You gonna deny your husband his due?! I work and sweat my arse out for you on that field!” She covered her ears, the sound of students and his voice jumbling together.
“And where the fuck is that other little bitch?! DAWNIE!!!” Again she leapt. Darting out the bathroom to push down her unfaithful lover.
She hadn’t let him touch her that night because he smelt of day old pussy and perfume, and now he had designs on their daughter…again.
She was six now and realizing that her “daddy” wasn’t a very good man. The image of her mother running into her bedroom and slamming the door mad her blood run cold.
“He wants me again…” The memory said softly. She nodded to the bookcase at her right, wishing somehow that it was her baby.
“We’re gonna get away this time honey…momma’s gonna…” Hermione looked around, bolting from beneath the table and pushing it towards the door, the noise of the scraping wood alerting the children outside of it.
“We’ll be okay this time!” The tears began as her mind blurred…the rest was screaming and then…then…
“DAWNIE!!!” She flipped over the chair, running through the small room and turned to the door banging on it mercilessly. Forgetting that she was the one who pushed the desk there.

“Ronald! Let my baby go you sick fuck!!!” She cried crumpling to a heap on the floor. Her eyes went blank as a trickle of blood dripped from her nose. The candles in her classroom flickered. Some students screamed. A roaring blaze had begun, children pushing and shoving each other out the way to vacate the room. Several when to alert Minerva, the others ran away screaming that a small child with red hair was causing the flames.

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Sorry if my chapters are short…I’ll try to make them longer. Please be patient I’m doing my best to keep up with the rate my mind’s going. This is my first fanfic in a very, very long while and when I mean long I mean like years long so I’m a little rusty. Thanks for your comments and reviews. BTW Snape is on his way…just give me some time to adjust. Hermione is a little more than off.