Love Vigilantes

“Even though I’m the sacrifice, you won’t try for me. Not now. Though I’d die to know you love me, I’m all alone. Isn’t someone missing me?” (Missing, by Evanescence)

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Hermione woke up the next morning, not surprisingly, with a splitting headache. She had anticipated it; it was how most of her mornings began since the beginning of the term. It was to be more expected now, considering the fact that she had spent the previous evening quite literally sleeping on the grounds of Hogwarts. Wondering when the tree roots she had fallen asleep on had become so soft, Hermione turned over, shocked to discover that she was no longer in the forest but back in her room in Gryffindor Tower. She got up and found a note addressed to her on the night table, which she opened immediately, hoping to remember how she had gotten back inside.

Dear Miss Granger,

Hopefully, this letter finds you better off than you were last evening. Fortunately for all of us, Hagrid found you asleep near the Black Lake during his evening patrol of the grounds and brought you back to your room. Sources have informed me that you only attended your morning Potions class before going missing for the rest of the afternoon and night. I’m sure I do not have to tell you that this is greatly concerning for me to hear. What you did last night was extremely dangerous, Hermione, especially if no one had found you. I would like for you to come meet with me this evening at six o’clock, as I believe we may have several matters to discuss. It is my sincerest wish that you attend all of your classes today; I know you would regret it if your grades were to suffer, no matter what the cause.

Until tonight,

Albus Dumbledore

P.s. – If I am not mistaken, one of your friends has a penchant for collecting Chocolate Frogs.

“Shit,” Hermione sighed, unintentionally out loud. The last thing she wanted to do now was talk to Dumbledore. She had always respected the Headmaster, but could never get over the feeling that he always knew everything about everyone. There was no doubt in her mind that he had already pieced together the puzzle of her relationship with Severus. At least she knew he wouldn’t press her for answers, and hoped that her avoidance of Dumbledore’s questions would signal him to drop the conversation. As for going to all her classes, Hermione had planned that all along and gathered her things to go to Potions, wondering if Severus would be back to teaching.

She let Ron and Harry enter the classroom before her, and judging from their smiles, she knew that Severus hadn’t returned; they would never be that happy going into Potions otherwise. Hermione took her seat, soberly ignoring the knowing look Professor McGonagall gave her and turning herself on autopilot in order to complete her day with as little distraction as possible. She was able to effectively disregard the murmurings of her classmates, who were almost as surprised at Snape’s disappearance as she was, until she heard Malfoy’s distinctive snigger from across the aisle.

“Maybe the bastard wasn’t able to talk himself out of trouble this time. Maybe he’s gone and gotten himself killed.”

Hermione’s eyes widened in anger, and before she knew what was happening, she ran across the room and punched the Trio’s least favorite Slytherin square in the jaw, victoriously noticing how blood began to trickle from his nose as a result of the impact. She watched as he fell to the ground and then descended on him, continuing to strike at him until she felt someone pulling her up. She kicked, trying to free herself, but it was of no use. She turned her head to see both Ron and Harry holding her securely in order to prevent her from hurting Malfoy even worse. He wasn’t moving, and Hermione vaguely heard Professor McGonagall ordering Crabbe to alert Madame Pomfrey of his condition.

“Miss Granger!” she cried afterwards, clearly distressed by the behavior of her favorite student. “Your behavior this morning has been unacceptable. Potter, will you please escort her to the Headmaster’s office? The password is –”

“Chocolate Frogs,” Hermione interrupted bitterly. She didn’t care if she was being disrespectful; she was too angry. “I know the password. I was supposed to meet with Professor Dumbledore tonight.”

“Good, well you can go there now!”

Harry and Hermione didn’t linger; they had never seen McGonagall that upset since Dolores Umbridge had taken over Hogwarts during the previous year. As soon as they were in the hall, Harry began congratulating Hermione on her performance in class.

“Wow, Hermione, that was even more impressive than in our third year! I don’t care what reason you had; the way you beat up Malfoy was just fantastic!” Harry practically shouted, beaming at her the same way he did when Gryffindor won a Quidditch match.

“Yeah, thanks, Harry. Let’s just go, okay?” Hermione didn’t really feel like celebrating. She knew that there was now no way that her reaction to Severus’ disappearance would go unnoticed by the Headmaster and wanted to get their meeting over with as soon as possible. She left Harry at the bottom of the staircase after calling out the password, praying with every step she took that by some miracle, Dumbledore wasn’t in his office. She knocked softly on his door and grimaced as she heard the Headmaster yell “come in,” from inside. She went in to find him sitting behind his desk, looking at her intensely and gesturing for her to sit. After a few minutes of tense silence, he finally addressed her.

“Miss Granger, I have no doubt you know the reasons for which you are here. I cannot say that I am completely against your actions; rather, I am startled by your lack of intellect. What happened between you and the younger Malfoy this morning was rash, but well deserved. I know Minerva would not agree with me on that level, but just between you and me, way to go.” He gave her a small smile before continuing. “But your decision to stay out on the grounds was incredibly foolish. You, more than many, know what kind of times we live in. Never forget that you are a target, Miss Granger. If the Dark Lord could find some way to manipulate you, he would. You should be more careful with yourself. Now, I have the feeling you have something to ask me.”

Hermione looked up at him from her chair, not knowing what to say. She knew she should ask him about Severus. Malfoy’s words had hurt her more than anyone could ever know. As every second went by, she was considering Severus’ death to be more and more of a possibility, but she realized that Dumbledore would most likely avoid her question and only ask more of his own. She wasn’t about to deal with school rumors about her and Severus without him at Hogwarts to weather them with her. She couldn’t handle that.

“No, Headmaster. There’s nothing wrong. I’m sorry for sleeping on the grounds. I assure you it won’t happen again.”

Dumbledore gazed down at her from where he stood, and as their eyes met, Hermione knew he was disappointed in her.

“Very well, Miss Granger. You may go now, but remember that I am here for you, should you need to talk.”

The hint of sadness in his voice stabbed at Hermione; her greatest fear was having people be disappointed in her, and it seemed that all of her darkest nightmares were now coming true. She suddenly got up and ran out of Dumbledore’s office without saying goodbye, only stopping once she reached the nearest corridor. She stood hyperventilating in the middle of the hall, her head spinning. She knew she was about to lose it; she had already begun to feel the all too familiar sensation of her throat closing up, and needed to get out fast. She needed to find some place quiet, somewhere she could be alone. She needed the Room of Requirement.

Hermione ran through the halls before bursting through the door of the Room of Requirement, interested to see how it would transform when she didn’t even know what she needed. She closed the door behind her and turned around to find that the entire back wall of the room was mirrored. There was a single couch in the center of the room with the journal she had written in the night before. She sat down at the couch to reread the entry, becoming completely immersed in her desperation. She looked up to see a pen floating by her and took it before starting a new page.

March 6, 1997

Nothing has changed. He’s not here. It’s my fault. He’s suffered so much, and I’m making it worse. I’ve created a horrible environment for him upon his return. The Headmaster will likely ask him questions he was never meant to answer. Not even Dumbledore has faith in me anymore. I’ve just become a disappointment to everyone. They don’t deserve to be hurt like this. My friends’ lives would be better without me in them. They deserve better. They wouldn’t even notice if I were gone; I’ve been absent to them so much this year. I don’t want the pain anymore, the unending dreams, and the pressure of pleasing them. I won’t let myself sit back and watch as Severus dies. I won’t. Not anymore.

Hermione felt as though she had so much more to say, but before she finished writing, the tears she had been hiding for weeks came rushing forward. Her sobs racked her body for at least an hour before she finally stopped, looking up at the mirrors before her.

She knew that the mirrors had to be there for a reason; the room wouldn’t have put them there superfluously. She analyzed them as she would an academic problem. The mirrors made her look at herself. She glanced quickly at her journal. She had analyzed herself in her writing and what had she discovered? That she blamed herself for everything, that she hated herself. That she deserved the pain that she had caused everyone else. Suddenly, everything became clear to her. Hermione knew that all was going to be right with the world; she had found a way to solve her problems. She would make things better. She was going to repay Severus for the way he held on for her. She wanted to know how he suffered, to experience his pain. She owed it to him.

Hermione walked over to the mirror, wand in hand, and then let go. The room knew exactly what she wanted and levitated the wand at the level of her arm. Satisfied that things were going to go just as she wanted them, she looked herself dead in the eye through the mirror, the pain Severus was enduring flashing through her mind, and screamed “CRUCIO!” at the top of her lungs.

Hermione immediately fell to the floor the moment the curse flashed out from her wand and hit her as it reflected off the mirror. She lost all control over her body as her muscles contracted spasmodically in excruciating pain, only remaining coherent enough to shriek various expletives intermingled with further curses to continue the assault on her own body. Her mind was reeling, unable to shut down despite the trauma she was experiencing. She hadn’t expected it to hurt this much, in fact she hadn’t known what to expect at all, but the pain was alright with her. It reassured her that she could feel, that everything she was experiencing had been real. She finally knew, in some small measure, what Severus was going through, and it hurt her even more to know that she was making his punishment even worse. He didn’t need her as an added burden. No one did. As the words I deserve this repeated over in her head, Hermione suddenly stopped the curse.

She felt weightless as she neared the state of near insanity described in the books she had read about the Cruciatus Curse. Her traumatized brain was unable to think rationally, but in Hermione’s addled state, the solution to her problem was as clear as her reflection in the mirror. She could put a stop to it all now. No more harm would come because of her and she could end her pain. She was beyond all logical thought, desperate for release from the life that had slowly been killing her since the beginning of the year. Using the couch for support, she lifted her weakened body to turn slowly and look at her wand once more. She took a deep breath in and exhaled whispering, “Severus, I’m sorry”, before facing herself in the mirror and casting the spell she never thought would escape from her lips.

“AVADA KED-”

“CONFRINGO!” a voice cried from the back of the room, blasting the mirrors before her to the ground in tiny pieces before the spell was able to reflect.
Hermione burst into tears realizing what had happened and dropped to her knees. As her body’s adrenaline drained, and the impact of the Cruciatus Curse took a complete hold on her, she looked back to see Snape staring at her in shock.

“You... Where were you? You left me. You fucking left me. I didn’t want to say it. You told me not to, but it’s real now. Severus, I love you.” With her admission, she let her mind finally slip away with her body. And as she collapsed on the floor, Severus ran to her and cradled her in his arms, unable to process the scene that had just played out before him.

After a brief moment, Severus collected himself and carried her to the rooms that were hers in the dungeons. He wasn’t ready to tell the Headmaster what happened. There would be too many questions, and he would rather take care of her himself. Laying her down, he finally looked to see how badly injured she actually was. He was used to the mangled, distorted bodies that resulted from the Dark Lord’s revels, but nothing had ever affected him the way Hermione’s brokenness was now. He knew that her recovery would be an extremely difficult one, realizing that she must have held the Cruciatus Curse on herself for over an hour without rest. For such a small witch, he was surprised she was still breathing when he had found her.

“My God, Hermione. What did you do?” he thought aloud before leaving for his stores. He had several potions to brew, and he needed them fast. The clock was ticking; no time-turner could save Hermione Granger’s life now.