Chapter 9 — What a Beautiful Dream it Was

All canon characters belong to JKR.

Thanks to June for her suggestions and beta work.

Chapter 9 – What a Beautiful Dream it Was

Hermione's book was indeed a success, not only for her but also for Mercury's Wings. Wilfred was able to move his office from the tired-looking dilapidated building to the second floor in a well-preserved and very stylish Victorian-looking building. His company also began attracting serious authors who didn't write fluffy romances.

Harry and Ginny threw a party for Hermione after the book had reached number one in the best selling book lists in the Quibbler, the Daily Prophet and the Hogsmeade Post. She had asked Reginald if he would accompany her to the party, but he couldn't due to a business trip. They had grown close during that last month. He came to dinner at least once a week sometimes twice, and every so often she and Viktoria would have picnics with Reginald in the yard.

Hermione now stood in the corner of Harry and Ginny's living room, with both Harry and Ron at her side.

"Hermione, I can't believe I'm saying this, but this book is fantastic," said Ron.

"Why can't you believe it? Because the book is about Professor Snape?" she asked him. Ron smiled, knowing he had to tread carefully. She had always been one of Snape's staunchest defenders.

"In a way," he said as he saw a flicker of fire in her brown eyes. "Don't bite my head off just yet now. I fully admit that even though Snape was a git, he did do right by us all in the end." Ron looked at the book and shook his head, as a sad look crossed his face. "He really went through a lot. I never realized how much."

"Neither did I," Harry interjected. "I guess it was just easier to believe he was an evil bastard. The book's dedication was nice."

A man should not be judged by the actions seen on the surface alone. Within these pages lies the story of such a man. I dedicate this book to Severus Snape, one of the forgotten heroes of the Great War against Lord Voldemort.

Hermione smiled and was glad she had added that after Severus looked at the final draft. He would never have allowed that dedication. She stayed at the party until after midnight, then made her way home with Viktoria fast asleep in her arms.

As she walked up to the house, she wondered if the professor would be around. Hermione wanted to talk to him and let him know how many people at the party enjoyed the book.

She put Viktoria to bed and walked into her room. Deciding not to turn on her lights, she lit a small candle next to her nightstand and jumped when she heard a rustling of clothes coming from the large leather chair.

"You're home rather late. I gather the party was enjoyable?" asked Severus from his spot.

"It was, yes," she answered with a smile, as she took off her outer robes.

"And was the buffoon there?" He couldn't help himself. Reginald's name would not go past his lips without making him want to grow ill. Or as ill as ghosts cold get.

"Professor, he has a name. I would get used to using it, if I were you," she said, turning away from him.

"Why would I do that?" he asked.

"Because. He may be around more often, that's all."

"Again, I ask, why?"

"It's just that someday...well, that remains to be seen. Someday he might ask me to be his wife, and he may be living here." She waited for the explosion, but it never came. She turned back around to see if he was still there.

He was standing next to the window, looking out into the night. The moonlight coming through the window gave him an almost ethereal glow.

"You asked me once," he spoke softly, "why I chose to turn my back on Voldemort. My mother was the only person who I felt ever loved me. In her eyes, I was the most beautiful child in the world. In her eyes, I was perfect. My fondest memories of her are of the times we would walk through fields covered with bluebells.

"The night Voldemort killed Potter's parents, I arrived at the house just before he killed Lily. I saw her throw herself in the path of the Killing Curse. At that moment, it reminded me of what my mother had done to protect me and love me. I had always suspected my father had a hand in her death. I had my confirmation when I took his life." He didn't turn to look at her, but he knew she was shocked. "I used Legilimency, and I saw what he did to her. Yes, I killed him. When I saw Voldemort kill Lily, it was as though I were seeing my father kill my mother all over again. Only this time it was happening right before my eyes. Before I could do anything, he had his wand pointing at Harry. It was over before it had even begun, really. He tried to kill Harry and, well, you know the rest. I heard a commotion outside and saw Sirius running towards the house. I left before anyone saw me there. That night, I went to Albus and told him everything."

Hermione wiped a tear that had escaped down her cheek. She often wondered if he had been there the night Harry's parents had died.

"I don't trust him," he said suddenly.

Hermione was confused.

"Who?"

"Him, the buffoon, Reginald," spat Severus.

She sighed heavily.

"Professor, I'm tired. Can we please not get into this tonight?" She hoped that if she put him off, he would forget the entire situation. She didn't understand his intense dislike for Reginald, when the aspiring author had been nothing but warm and loving towards Viktoria and her.

"No, we will get into this now. Can't you see he is toying with you?" Severus hoped to make her understand that there was something he felt off about Reginald. He couldn't explain it, but there was something about the man he didn't trust. Severus acknowledged there was a bit of jealousy in his heart, but this had nothing to do with his feelings. He always had good instincts about people when he was alive; this had helped him survive as a spy.

"Why are you saying that? Why can't you be happy for me?" She closed her door, not wanting Viktoria to hear her screaming, and then cast a silencing charm.

"I am ecstatic for you and the freedom this book has allowed you. You do not need this man in your life. All he will do is hurt you!" he yelled.

"You always think the worst of people. I always defended you when Harry and Ron said things about you, but you know, they were right. You're just a nasty git, aren't you? Reginald likes me, and he likes Viktoria. He treats us well. At least he's..." She stopped herself, not wanting to make things worse.

"He's what? Go on, say it. He's a living, breathing man ... not some ghost haunting your daily existence. If it's a living, breathing man you want, why not just go to the Three Broomsticks; there are plenty of men there looking for..."

"Don't you say it. Don't you dare make this into something dirty and sex-driven! If I could, I'd slap you into oblivion." She was furious. How could he even think something like that? She looked down and closed her eyes as she took several long calming breaths. She then looked into his dark eyes. "I will not discuss this further with you. I am very tired, and I would like to go to sleep. We can discuss this when you are in a more rational mood. Now please, just go."

He disappeared without another word.

Hermione fell onto her bed and began crying. Did he even know how much he had hurt her with his words? She cried until she had nothing left inside of her. Exhausted from crying, she finally fell asleep.

The candle had just about burned itself out when the figure of a dark man reappeared in her room once more.

Severus walked to her bed and stood over her. Inwardly, he berated himself. She had been crying, the proof on her tear-stained cheeks and on the now wet pillowcase. His words had been harsh, and at the time he said them, that's how he wanted them to be. He wanted to hurt her the way he felt she had hurt him. He wanted to be that flesh-and-blood man she needed, but that was something that could never be. He felt her feelings for him, even now. She was dreaming of him, he knew that. Even as a ghost, he still had a few magical abilities, and he would use one of them now.

"How I wish I could give you what you so desire, but I cannot. Perhaps you are right about me after all. I will never accept any man by your side; I realize that now. You must live, my love. Live and be happy. Give your daughter everything she desires, and allow yourself to love. You will forget the ghost of this house. He never really existed; only in your dreams did you ever have anything to do with him." He bent down and allowed himself to push away the tear-soaked hair against her forehead as he whispered soft words into her ear. "This, Hermione, has all been a dream ... a wonderful dream. You found my journals and notes in the cellar that day you moved in. You wrote the book entirely on your own. The ghost has been nothing but a dream."

"Mmm...wonderful dream," she whispered.

"Goodbye, love." He kissed her lightly on the lips and disappeared.

That night Hermione dreamed of a man she knew long ago. A man she had written a book about. A man she once knew as Professor Severus Snape.

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Okay, don't shoot. Remember, its always darkest before the dawn.