Chapter 2: Near

All characters belong to J.K.Rowling

Chapter Two

Near

As the door closed, Snape waited a long moment for the steps in the corridor to vanish. As soon as they were on the stairways, I knew they’d begin to whisper and bet if anything recognisable of Hermione Granger would be left.

I didn’t even try to stand up. Every inch of my body hurt, as if the pain had been real. As if it had left marks. My wand was lost somewhere in the folds of my uniform, and any spell I cast now would be useless even if screamed. My head tilted against the cold wood of the desk, my hands abandoned in my lap, I waited.

He did not disappoint me – with one quick spell he did not utter, his robes were whole again, his face clean from the smoke; even the smell of burn disappeared. I wished I could do the same with myself, wash away the memories that day had brought. I knew I’d never be good at Legilimency. I could not stand what may come from someone else’s mind. No matter how many words were spent on pain, touching it was walking into fire. And today I’d been burnt.

As he, walking slowly, approached, I looked at Snape’s cold face and tried to see the scars, the visible signs of what in that very moment was unravelling behind those black eyes. But there was nothing to read. A blank, distant face. Occlumency must be a second nature to him.

Three steps from me, he stopped.

“Stand.”

“I can’t.”

A statement. All my life I had lived by the orders of others, never dreaming of disobeying. Now, laying there on that cold stone floor, no fibre of my punctilious old being stirred. I was quiet and comfortable there. A living image to quiet despair.

Snape’s face did not change. His wand barely moved, and I was standing, pulled up by strong if not ungentle ropes of pure air. As soon as I felt my body weigh on my ankles, I wished it was over. So I looked up, impatient, waiting stoically for the harshness, the contempt. But neither of them came. Severus Snape looked at me, and words were balanced on a razor’s edge. And then he spoke.

“What did you see?”

I raised my face, surprised. Of all he could say, this was the last thing I expected.

“Nothing. It was confused. And dark.”

“Dark.”

His voice its usual, familiar drawl. But now I knew better, and I met his eyes without trembling. Applying the art wizards have forgot and Muggles are masters of. Looking for the truth behind the lightless windows of his black irises.

“What did you see?”

“A know-it-all’s pathetic little life.” His answer full of automated cruelty. But I was too down already to be sunk further. I smiled weakly.

“You backed away.”

“I could have retched all the way through.”

“You didn’t.”

Somewhere deep inside I was surprised of myself. I’d set a professor on fire. I’d disobeyed his orders. And now I defied him quietly without even raising my voice. Of course, Snape fulfilled my expectations. He sneered.

“How typical of you, Miss Granger. Thinking your miserable little pains are enough to scare someone’s will. My will.” There was a spark of joyless triumph into his eyes. “I’ve seen worse, Miss Granger. “

I wished there was something else to say, something cutting and unpleasant; but now his pain was part of me, indelibly engraved in my memory. And so I murmured:

“I believe it.”

He looked at me, and his eyes betrayed a sparkle of fury; but he said nothing. His eyes burnt.

“Get out.”

Without looking at me again, he summoned back his desk and sat behind it. It was like I’d never been there. My steps muffled, silent, I walked out of the door without looking back.