Mirror, Mirror

Mirror, Mirror

Chapter Seven – Button, button, who has the button?


It all belongs to Rowling, except what you don’t recognize.

Hermione had just stepped into her flat with her groceries when she noticed that Severus was sitting at the dining room table with his head cradled by his hands. She turned around to where Harry stood behind her and she was uncertain whether inviting Harry up on the spur of the moment had been the right thing to do.

“Ahem, Severus. I’ve brought company.”

His head snapped up and he took in the sight of Hermione and her best friend. Harry had grown into a slender man of medium height. He still wore glasses and his hair tended to be every bit as unruly as it was in childhood. That was all that was left of Harry the child. Forced to grow up too soon, he tended to be quick to anger and slow to release a grudge. And the one grudge he refused to ever give up had been the death of his Godfather.

Snape stood up and extended his hand to Harry, “It’s good to see you, Harry. How’s Lavender?”

Harry looked at the extended hand as it was covered by excrement. He then addressed Hermione, “Dumbledore’s right. He’s gone barmy.” He returned to his cool observation of Snape. “You know Lavender’s dead, died along with so many others.”

Snape looked down and reddened a bit, “I’m sorry. I spoke without thinking.”

“And the Snape I knew would never apologize.” He turned a dining room chair around and sat in it, still staring at Snape like he was something obscene.

Snape returned the stare, face totally impassive. Finally, he asked Hermione for some tea. She nodded and headed to the kitchen.

“Harry, I understand that my counterpart here may have mucked things up a bit.”

“You are really trying to pull this off. But what I don’t understand is why? What’s in it for you, Snape, to convince everyone that you’ve been driven mad.”

“I have two ways to prove that what I am saying is true. I take it you are an Auror here, as you are where I came from?”

“Yes.”

“Then you might be useful to me. I didn’t want to go into this earlier with Miss Granger or the Headmaster. Sometimes it’s just not worth it. But with you…” He smiled crookedly.

“You wish me to use Legilimency on you?”

“Quite.”

“Here and now.” He nodded, his fierce, green eyes piercing into Snape’s eyes.

“Certainly. I have nothing to hide.” Snape was starting to bristle.

“Why me, then?” Harry asked warily.

“Because you are the only one with high enough access to Ministry records to be of use to me; Dumbledore straight out refused. I need Miss Granger for other things, but I don’t wish to shock her with my memories. They are too intimate. But you, in my world I am on friendly terms with the illustrious Harry Potter only because I’m quite certain I’d be risking my wife’s love if I didn’t put a good face on things. Here, you and I can be honest with one another.”

Hermione entered with a silver tea service and mismatched mugs on a tray. She immediately felt the tension, but was relieved that they didn’t seem to be going for each other’s throats. She sat down and began the most civilized of British traditions.

“I thought I heard you two talking a moment ago,” she said fixing Harry’s tea.

“Snape here wants to prove to me that he is who he claims.”

“You can do that?” Hermione was a bit surprised.

“It depends.” Harry continued, “his power at Occlumency was such that he was able to fool Voldemort. Maybe he thinks he can fool me as well.” Harry glared at a Snape who was quite contentedly sipping at his “Witches do it on broomsticks” tea mug, a birthday present from Ron.

“Afraid that you’re not up to the challenge, is that it Potter?” Snape was openly smirking at him and Harry started to feel himself go red in the face.

He stood up and had his wand out at Snape’s throat. “Why the games? We find you two days ago, half dead from lack of food and dehydration-- supposedly captured by Death Eaters. But who do we find, but two idiot Wizards with no ties at all to Voldemort who had been placed under Imperio. Would you like to explain that?”

“I’d be glad to if I could.” He tapped his temple, “Come and get it.”

“Harry, you are not going to do that here?”

“What better place, Miss Granger?” Snape’s black eyes were flashing with amusement. “Believe me, I feel much safer here than at the Ministry of Magic.”

“Very well, Snape. Legilimens!” Harry immediately knew he’d made a mistake, a rather large one at that, because this wasn’t Snape’s mind, and yet it was. That was what scared him. It was his mind but the timber was different. The bitterness was still there, but it had been tempered and gentled. And it was amused by Harry and his reactions to it.

Unlike the lessons they had done where Snape had been the one pursuing and tormenting him, this Snape, as he had hinted, was actively letting Harry roam wherever he wished. He wasn’t sure where to head but then saw a scene that he was irresistibly drawn to. Harry was in a chapel in Hogsmeade and he was there watching his own wedding…by the Gods… to Lavender Brown! But one look told him this wasn’t him; no, it was a different Harry. This Harry was relaxed and happy, reminding him of the days before Sirius Black had died at the Ministry of Magic. And then he saw—Sirius! His Godfather was alive and was his best man. Harry felt himself hyperventilating and focused his mind to stay in control. He started looking for whatever else might be different and he found Hermione and Snape sitting close together holding a baby. Snape was giving the infant his finger to grab hold on and the child’s eyes were resting on his with rapt attention. Snape looked different.

Harry watched himself say, “I do” in response to the Minister and then Lavender, her eyes filled with joy, answered yes in return to the question.

Suddenly, Harry was filled with fury. What kind of trick was Snape playing on him? Showing him this of all things? The blackness of his ire disrupted his focus and he found himself falling out of Snape’s mind. He came to on the floor with Snape and Hermione crouched over him.

Harry scrambled to his feet and stared at Snape, breathing hard.

“You do not seem very convinced, Potter.” Snape said grimly.

Harry brushed himself off, searching for composure, “Let me sleep on it. I think we probably will need to have you down to the Ministry for questioning after all.”

Snape sighed. “Maybe you’d just like to have one more go of it?”

“No. You win for now, whatever game it is you are at.” Harry shook his head, trying not to think of Lavender’s dead and mangled body on the field of battle outside of Hogwarts.

“I just need you to search through the Ministry for information, anything at all about Transconveyance. It could be no more than a rumor of a book, or someone who claims to be from elsewhere, as I have. And I’ll be glad to answer any questions you have, of course.” Snape was back to being silken and in control.

“Why is Sirius Black still alive?”

Snape looked concerned. “How and when did he die?”

“You bloody well know.” Harry stopped himself, “At the end of my Fifth year at Hogwarts at a battle at the Ministry.”

“No such battle ever took place.” Snape sighed and looked very tired.

“I didn’t go to the Ministry to attempt to rescue Sirius?”

Snape looked at the floor. “You saw through the Dark Lord’s ruse and came to me.”

“How did he do that and not me?” Harry muttered half to himself.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know. Frankly, you are not as good at Legilimency as the Potter I taught for two years.”

“Two years, eh? You stopped teaching me after a few months.”

“Well, mystery solved.” Snape sat down and sipped his tea, ignoring the fact that Harry looked like he was either going to punch him or hex him.

“Harry?” Hermione placed her hands on his trembling arms. “Maybe you should leave and relax a bit?”

Harry looked at Hermione and, discovering he’d been holding his breath, exhaled. He realized that he really did need to take the time to think about what he’d seen in that memory. Was it real? How did Snape ever know that he’d developed feelings for Lavender towards the end of his academic career? He’d never said anything to her or to anyone else about his feelings for her. Mostly because he felt ridiculous, but also because he feared that she might become a target. It had hurt him badly when she died and now years later he was only starting to think about dating.

Harry kissed Hermione on the forehead, not seeing Snape’s look of disgust, and left. Snape stood up and walked back to the spare room where a cot bed had been made up for him.

“Severus?”

“I need to lie down,” he said brusquely.

Hermione was getting used to his moods; however, he seemed to have lost hope and she felt concerned. She walked to him and took his hands. “Talk to me about things.”

Snape shook his head. “I’m tired. I Apparated to every Wizarding bookshop and antiquarian dealer in London and Paris today.” He turned to head into his room.

“You’re not ready to give up.”

“No, I never will. It’s just…” Snape’s eyes met her and he studied her for a moment before saying, “Nothing.”

“Please tell me.”

“Harry Potter was just not the thing I wanted at the end of a long day. I would have thought he’d been a bit more in control. He’s just a spoilt brat.” This time Hermione allowed him to head to his room.

She went into the kitchen and prepared a simple dinner, setting a pot of water to boil for pasta and cutting up greens for a salad. She was pensive and feeling ill at ease. After a few minutes, she made up her mind and headed back to his room. She knocked on the door and went in when he said enter. He was lying on his back staring up at the ceiling.

“You’re depressed. And I think you really need to talk to me. You wanted my help, and here I am, but you won’t trust me.” She kneeled down next to him and touched his face. “Why?”

“I’m doing the best I can to control myself,” he stated after a pause. “Do you know that this place is Hell?”

He continued to watch the ceiling. Hermione shifted herself to a more comfortable position on the floor.

“Please, continue.” She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. She felt him return the pressure.

“I’ve always taken my marriage seriously,” He said haltingly, “but last year we were visited by another Hermione.”

He breathed deeply, before continuing. “During my wife’s pregnancy, she helped a little in the lab, but mostly I kept her out of it. Too many poisonous substances, too many possible dangers…One day, there was an explosion while I was working and she ran in to help get me out. The fumes were quite toxic and we got out of there quickly. She was all right, but we worried about the baby. Sarah was born a few months later, well and whole.

“However, this other Hermione had not been so fortunate. She’d lost the child. She asked the Ministry if she could visit another realm to see how the little girl was doing. This was last year. She arranged with Hermione through the Ministry to trade for six hours early on the day of our daughter’s third birthday. My Hermione would be back in time for the birthday party that afternoon.

“It should have gone well, but it was too much for the visitor. She began to cry hysterically. I had Nanani take Sarah to feed the ducks. She loves doing that. And I talked to this other Hermione. It seems that not only had they lost their child, but also her marriage was unstable. She poured her heart out to me, and I listened. It was very odd, because it was just like talking to my own Hermione and I cared for her as if she was my own wife.”

Suddenly Snape was on his feet and walking past Hermione to the hallway. “I need to get some fresh air.”

“It’s just starting to rain,” said Hermione following him.

“I don’t care.”

Hermione moved in front of Snape. “Finish the story, please.” She tried to make eye contact with him, but he refused to look at her.

“There’s nothing more.”

Hermione took his arm. “You are very upset for there being nothing more.”

Snape looked angrily at her, “All right, I shagged her! Is that what you wanted to hear? I tried to keep my vows, but it’s impossible when you are face to face with a woman who looks, sounds, smells and feels like your wife. It was a well-known side effect of Transconveyance, but I wouldn’t have believed it until it happened to me.”

He tried to shake her off but she held him with both hands, “And you are afraid that that is what is happening to your wife?”

He nodded and put his arms around her, silently shaking. Hermione had wondered exactly what it was like lose everything that was familiar only to have it replaced with a world similar but not the same. Was there a Severus making love to a Hermione right now, in another realm? She held onto him tightly, aware that her professionalism was rapidly disappearing. She was too young for this, and that was a surprise to her. Normally, she could handle anything, but this was simply too strange. Hermione pulled away from him.

“Come eat. You’ll feel better.” She reached out to stroke his face and he took her hand and placed a kiss on the palm. “You are sweet and kind and gentle, just as she is. I wonder if you are also as passionate?”

Hermione quirked a smile, “Let’s just hope you never find out!” She headed into the kitchen. “I see you bought some new robes?”

“Yes, teal is one of my favorite color He He touched her shoulder and she almost dropped the salad. He took it away from her and placed it on the dining room table. She was draining the pasta when he returned. “And do you like the goatee?”

“It’s different. He was always clean shaven.”

“I started wearing it a year ago, when we received the Order of Merlin. I thought it made me look more like a doctor.”

“You’re a doctor?” Hermione brought the bowl of pasta to the table and went back for the bread. “Help yourself, don’t wait for me.”

He sat down and took some salad on his plate. “It’s honorary, of course. Both my wife and I received them when we published our cure for Lycanthropy.”

There was a crash in the kitchen. Severus ran over to see that Hermione had dropped the butter dish and was swaying on her feet.

“What did you say?” asked a wide-eyed Hermione.


A/N: Big hugs to my reviewers who keep me writing: LittleBird, Genrou, SJL, NegativeNine, FriendlyQuark, and Mel.