Chapter 10

Chapter 10

It was an early morning in late November when the doorbell rang at Garden Cottage. It pulled Hermione out of a deep sleep. She threw on her robe, rushed to the door, and opened it. To her shock and joy there was Harry! She threw her arms around him, laughing and crying at once.

"Oh, Harry!" she cried out. "Thank you for coming. I can't believe you're here!"

He was thin and looked weary. Yet, he still had that grin that would always remind Hermione of better days. At least he had not lost that.

"Well, I left an irate wife at home, but I reckon she'll get over it," he said with his eyes shining brightly. As soon as they had appeared on his face, the smile and the light in his green eyes faded as he looked beyond her.

Hermione turned to see Eugene and Severus walking into the living room, but Harry kept his composure. Hermione could tell he was having a difficult time breathing, and his hands were trembling.

"Are you all right, Harry?" she whispered as she grasped his hand. She knew he still struggled with guilt over leaving Severus in that Shack, and he was probably still having a hard time accepting the wizard was alive.

"What's going on here, Hermione?" Harry asked, concerned.

"Harry Potter, this is Eugene Wainright. He is the 'official' foster child of Professor Snape, but Eugene likes to claim both of us. Eugene, this is my best friend from school, Harry Potter."

"I'm going to change my last name to Snape when the professor adopts me. Then we will all be a family when Hermione and he get married," Eugene said proudly.

"Eugene!" hissed Professor Snape. "Enough. Now go and dress yourself," he said as he nudged the boy towards his bedroom.

Hermione felt like a child in her flannel pajamas. How she wished to be more disciplined like the professor, who always rose earlier and had never been caught in his pajamas. "Excuse me, Harry," she said hurriedly. "I'll get dressed quickly."

She left her door open and hid beside her bureau as she dressed. She didn't want to miss a word between the two wizards.

"I'm sorry it took so long for me to come," she heard Harry say. "It took a while for me to wrap my mind around all of this."

"Ah, yes, I can understand. Lack of a body to bury can lead anyone to believe a person is truly dead," Severus replied smoothly.

Oh, dear, thought Hermione. He IS going to be a bastard about this! She rushed getting her clothes on before the professor could really cock things up.

"I worked hard to find you, Professor," said Harry defensively with a hint of hurt in his voice. "You have no idea how much time and convincing I had to do to even gather a search party. People just couldn't be arsed, but I cared."

"And caring means so much, doesn't it, Mr. Potter? Leaving me on the floor of that filthy shack to exsangunate...the caring just radiates," he intoned with his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Still a bitter, old bastard, eh?" Harry spat. "It's always about you. Why I ever thought you would care that I tried so hard to make sure you got your dues...your recognition...I really must have been mad!"

"Oh, do shut up, Potter!" he snapped. "No one asked for your efforts. I have lived for two decades without 'dues' as you call it. What I did had nothing to do with you or anyone."

"My mum?" Harry whispered.

Hermione arrived just in time. Harry was pale staring at the professor unblinkingly.

"Harry," she said quietly, bringing him out of his trance. "Why don't you go to sit down, and let me deal with the professor, all right?" She touched his arm lightly, and his green eyes met hers.

Harry stalked off into the living room, and Hermione smacked the professor on the arm. "What's the matter with you?" she hissed angrily. "Can't you see he's not himself? He is still very traumatized and weak. Can't you muster just a modicum of compassion?"

Severus' eyes bored into hers. "Why should I show compassion to a person who has been a thorn in my side for his entire life?" he said menacingly.

Hermione's eyes narrowed into slits. "Because you have been a burr in my backside for nearly nine years, and I still have managed to save your sorry, ungrateful arse from yourself!" she whispered. "Now stop acting like a git, and show a little gratitude, you pillock! He's brought you your memories back."

"I do not want them," he declared childishly as his voice grew louder with each word.

"Why?" Hermione demanded. She heard the familiar shuffling of Eugene's feet. "Eugene, go back to your room until I tell you to come out. The professor and I are having a disagreement," she said darkly as she kept her eyes trained on Snape.

"I asked you a question," she reminded him.

The professor sat down lazily in a chair. "I do not want them, Miss Granger. You suffer from a malaise that is all too common in women like yourself. You collect people as if they are pets to bolster your need to feel important. You fuss over me as much as that mangy cat of yours," he said maliciously.

Hermione eyes flew wide open and, for a moment, thought she was going to cry. "Fine!" she shouted. "I'll take those memories and pour them down the fucking drain."

She leaned over him and seethed, "Just remember how I found you, Professor, mad as a hatter and near starvation. Your clothes were in tatters, and you would have expired like a mindless idiot waiting for a woman to come out of a mirror that had only been a figment of your deranged imagination. So there! If you want to go back to that house and sit and talk to yourself into madness in front of that bit of glass, go right ahead."

She strode over to the front door and wrenched it open. Eugene came running out of his room, hurling himself at the professor. Hermione massaged her temples. This was turning into a nightmare.

"NO!" Eugene screamed. He flung his arms around the wizard's waist and cried. He just burst into sobs. "You can't go back there! You can't! I won't let you. We need you. You promised to stay with me and teach me about my magic. You promised you'd never leave me!"

"Eugene," Professor Snape said softly. "You are welcome to return with me. You and I will get along just fine without Miss Granger." He shot Hermione an evil glare as he spoke.

The boy looked up at him and said, "We need her, sir! Hermione makes everything better. You're happy when she's around. Whenever we go back to that house, you just want to talk to that stupid lady!"

Oh, fuck! Hermione thought as she saw Harry stand up from his chair.

"What lady?" he asked suspiciously.

Eugene blurted it out before either Snape or Hermione could stop him.

"Lily. He thinks she's in the mirror in his room and wants to come back to him. He thinks she's alive, but I know she's dead!" he yelled.

He turned to Snape and continued to howl. "I hate her! I don't want your old Lily. Even if she were here, she'd never be a better mum than Hermione. Hermione knows us and loves us!"

That's it. I am officially in hell, Hermione thought as she rubbed her forehead. "Eugene, I need for you to return to your room and not come out until I call for you," she said firmly.

After Eugene had reluctantly left, Harry spoke up again. "What's this about my mum?" he demanded.

Hermione stepped forward. "Harry, Professor Snape has had a difficult time with his memory. That's why I wanted for him to have his memories restored," she explained. "He gets confused. Sometimes he thinks Lily is still alive and in hiding. He's been waiting for her all this time, since the end of the war."

"I demand you stop this absurd discussion immediately. I am as sane as he is," the professor said pointing to Harry.

Harry burst out laughing. "Well, then you're done for, old boy!" he exclaimed. "I've been in and out of St. Mungo's for months now. I'm officially a nutter, lost the plot, not what you would call 'all-there.'"

"Perfect," spat Professor Snape. "Congratulations, Miss Granger. However did you accomplish it? You managed to leave my memories with this idiot? They are probably rubbish by now. Pensieve memories will ruin if not kept in a controlled climate."

"Stop being so bloody-minded," she spat as she tried to let Harry explain.

"I kept them preserved, just in case someone found you," Harry explained. "Do you want to view them first before replacing them into your head? I brought a small Pensieve."

Harry took out from his rucksack a Pensieve and then carefully another pulled out a velvet package within. He unwrapped it, and there was the crystal phial of Snape's memories.

"I would like some privacy, if you don't mind," Snape ground out as he took the items from Harry's hands angrily.

Hermione moved out of his way so he could go to the bedroom he used when he slept over. Hermione watched as he closed the door softly.

"Eugene," she called. "Would you please get some cereal for you and Mr. Potter?"

Eugene came out of his room slowly. "That lady was your mum?" he asked Harry.

Harry looked at the boy sadly. "Yes," he whispered as he looked around for a place to sit.

Eugene hung his head and muttered, "I'm sorry I said I hated her. I just don't like how the professor acts when he thinks about her."

Harry took off his glasses and massaged his eyes. "It's fine, mate," he said in a strained voice.

Hermione started to go towards the professor's door.

"Where are you going?" demanded Harry as he poured a bowl of flakes for himself.

Hermione laid her hand on Harry's chest. "You haven't an idea how bad off he was," she whispered lowly. "He was just a mess when I found him. It was frightening to see how his mind had deteriorated. He's had fewer episodes of being delusional, and Lord knows, getting back his memories can only help him, but sometimes the cure can be painful. Not harmful, but hurtful just the same."

Hermione smiled at Eugene, who was now showing Harry his latest battle scar from the last scuffle with his friends. She turned and stood nervously by the door, listening carefully for any sounds of anguish. She leaned against the frame and rubbed her forehead and temples. This was going to be a day the professor would never forget.

She heard a slump and wrenched open the professor's bedroom door. The professor was on his knees with his face in his hands. Hermione swiftly closed the door behind her softly and knelt on the floor with him. She lightly skimmed her hand on his taunt back and was taken by surprise by what happened next.

The professor turned and pulled her to himself. He crushed her flush against him, and as she considered how delicious it felt to have her breasts pressed against a man's chest after so long, she could feel his tears on her neck.

"She's dead," he said in a broken voice. "Why couldn't I remember?"

Hermione felt his thin frame quiver against her soft curves. During all this time together, she had never seen him so vulnerable.

"I could see her, laughing, talking to me like we used to when we were children. She died. She died, and she never knew," he blurted out painfully.

"I think she knows, Professor," Hermione whispered as she slowly accepted him into her embrace. "I think somehow, she knows you helped her son, and I think that she has forgiven you."

He started to laugh softly. He broke from Hermione and said, "It was never about her forgiveness. I finally realized that a couple of weeks ago. I cannot forgive myself for hurting her and being complicit in her death."

He stood up and began to deposit his memories, one by one into his head. The weight of knowing wore his face down. He looked forlorn and heavy-laden. Each gossamer strand was another line on his already dour visage. When he was through, he took his cloak and said he needed to walk.

"Do you want me to join you?" she asked timidly.

"No, Miss Granger. I wish to be alone," he said stiffly as he left.

Hermione walked out of the room and watched the professor leave. Eugene was confused.

"Hermione? Where is the professor going?" he asked worriedly.

Hermione brushed back his black hair and looked into his big blue eyes that were so troubled. "The professor needs some time, Eugene. He has just had to accept after all this time, all the work, and all the weary days were for a woman who is truly gone and won't be coming back. He has to grieve."

"He really loved her?" the boy asked.

"Yes, he did...he does still," said Harry from the corner. "I can't understand it, Hermione," Harry said as he walked towards her. "He loved my mum so much, but he can hate me so readily. Why? Why? What did I ever do to him?"

"You were born, Harry," whispered Hermione as she watched the professor walk slowly alone. "And you weren't his son. In his mind, it was a cruel twist of fate that you should have those eyes that had always beckoned him in the face of the man who was his enemy. It was something that was a slap in the face each time he saw you. You were the undeniable proof that he had truly lost her."

"He just wants to be miserable!" Harry spat.

Hermione sighed as she walked to the couch and sat down resignedly. "Harry, it's been a long morning, and I'm tired. I came to Grasmere because I needed time. I wanted to get out of the insanity of taking care of you and Ron. I couldn't do it anymore! I have my own pain. My own parents rejected me. They are afraid of me...of what I can do magically, what I have done, and it frightened them. I am an heiress!" She felt her chest constrict, and she wanted to burst into a sobbing heap. "I have all the money I could ever want, but what I want is a family of my own!" she raged.

She burst into tears and ran into the bathroom. Eugene was hot on her heels. "Hermione?" he whispered. "Don't you want us anymore?"

"What?" she asked through her sniffles.

Eugene looked at her with his head cocked to the side. "I'm talking about you, me, and the professor. We're a family."

Hermione barked a laugh. "We aren't a family. You have the professor and me, and we each have you, but that is all. We are like two families, just like the two houses that we shuffle you from back and forth," she said bitterly as she blew her nose into a tissue.

She walked into her bedroom and lay down. She was so tired, so weary. A while later, Eugene came in and snuggled next to her.

"Harry said good-bye," he whispered.

Hermione nodded as she kept her eyes closed.

"Don't you love me anymore, Hermione?" he asked.

"Of course, I love you. What is there not to love?" she said through her tears. She wrapped him in her arms and kissed his head. She rested her chin on the top of his and said, "I wish you could be mine. I would take you traveling, and we would see beautiful things. When you're at Hogwarts, I'd send you embarrassing letters and cards, so all the other boys would tease you, but deep down you would love it because it would be special. You would know I love you even when I'm not there to tell you."

"I wish you were my mum," whispered Eugene. "I don't remember her, but I would like to think she was special. You are special, Hermione. Why don't you and the professor get married?"

Hermione sighed as she continued to stroke the boy's hair. "The professor doesn't love me, Eugene. He loves Harry's mum. I think he will always love her, and a part of him will always be waiting for her to come back. Sometimes I wonder if he should have just gone ahead and died in that Shack. Then he would see her again, and they would be together. He doesn't even like me. I am far too bossy for the likes of him," she whispered.

"Do you love the professor, Hermione?" Eugene asked.

"It doesn't matter, Eugene," she whispered as she sighed. "He loves Lily, so nothing else matters."

Together they fell into a deep sleep. When Hermione woke up, she saw the professor standing at the doorway. "You really love him, don't you?" he asked her softly.

"Yes, I do," she whispered. She was still holding the slumbering boy in her arms.

Hermione watched him nervously as continued to stand in the doorway. He leaned against the frame and crossed his arms. Hermione felt as if she were being studied. She saw she was not the only one being studied. The professor was looking at them: she and Eugene. Hermione shifted her gaze to the sleeping child and instinctively brushed the black hair from his face.

"If only my own mother had been so kind," he murmured softly. He sighed and looked down.

"Your mother wasn't a loving woman?" she whispered.

His expression changed to something wistful. "I would like to think she had been once. However, my father beat that out of her. She didn't have anything to give. Just caring for him, his needs, cleaning his house, cooking his meals, washing his clothes, and all without magic, too, was all she could handle while always hurting from the last beating. I remember her with having black eyes. It seemed my father enjoyed giving black eyes."

"Professor, that is the most dreadful thing I have ever heard. Surely, I mean, you were his son. Didn't he want you? Didn't he have time for you?" she whispered.

Severus laughed softly and looked up to the ceiling for a moment, closing his eyes as if in prayer before looking at her. "No. I wasn't supposed to exist. It seems I have never belonged anywhere, actually. I never seemed to quite fit in. But here," he said, his eyes moving around him, "it seems I have found a fit."

Hermione opened up her mouth to speak, but she realized she didn't know what to say. He held up a hand. "Please, Miss Granger...Hermione," he said quietly. "Let me savor this moment. Let me pretend that the small black-haired boy who reminds me so much of myself in your arms is my very own son, and you are his mother, the wife I never knew I wanted."

Hermione held her breath. She turned and looked at Eugene, his sooty eyelashes fluttered on his pink cheeks. He was asleep and beautiful. Hermione realized she felt the same. She wished he had come from her own body. It was a silly, ridiculous thought. She was so young herself, but she pushed it aside. She cherished this boy, and perhaps that was because he was so like the two men she cared for very much: Professor Snape and Harry. It made him even more precious in her eyes. She continued to hold Eugene in her arms and kissed his brow. She laid her head back and closed her eyes. She knew the professor was watching, and it did not feel strange at all. On the contrary, it felt quite right...