Chapter 14

Hermione had taken a long while to recover from her anxiety attack. She'd lain on the floor, covered in sweat, just breathing while tears streamed down her face. Once her heart had slowed to a normal pace, she'd continued to let the tears fall. They'd gone on for quite awhile before she'd gotten fed up with her melancholy, 'woe-is-me' mood. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she'd gone into her bathroom to take a shower, emerging awhile later feeling almost human again.

Now she entered the Great Hall purposefully. She gazed around her at the candles that floated in the air and at the tables set up in rows, awaiting the arrival of the students. Stopping suddenly, she eyed her chair next to Severus. He was already seated, drumming his fingers on the table, obviously awaiting the students' arrival for the feast.

Should I find a different place to sit? Hermione thought. Perusing the table, she noted that there was a space next to Trelawney. Hermione frowned. She'll drive me to drink within a week. No, I made this mess, I'll struggle through it. He can't treat me any worse than when I was a student.

With that thought, she made her way to her regular seat. Putting her bravest face forward, she nodded at Severus and said hello. She received cold silence for her efforts. Hermione chose to ignore him, turning to chat with Filius Flitwick instead. Her subconscious, however, kept careful watch on the dour man beside her. Severus continued to drill his fingers on the table. When the students started to file in, she saw him visibly tense up. He began to scowl as he saw students look towards him and whisper. Hermione wasn't sure whether they were talking about him or not, but she understood what Severus must be thinking.

Hermione noted Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood walking in together.

Goodness! I almost forgot they were going to be here this year! It's so good to see them. She frowned a bit, then. I'm supposed to keep a professional relationship with all students... that means Ginny and Luna too. Oh, well, I can still talk with them; I just can't be as close to them as I'd like. It's only for a year. It would have been nice to have some girlfriends my age to chat with, though.

Her gaze moved farther back into the hall where she saw some second-year Gryffindors point at Severus and whisper. They were definitely talking about him, but were they speaking harshly? The children's eyes widened as they looked upon Severus. It seemed more amazement than derision. She noted Severus' deep scowl and heaviness filled her heart. Angry with her or not, she couldn't just sit there and let him stew. Her hand shot over to his arm.

"Don't do this to yourself, Severus," she admonished. "They respect you."

Severus glared at her and pulled his arm away.

"Do not pretend to know more about me than you do, Professor Granger," he snapped.

She knew that the only reason she wasn't bawling right now was because she'd cried for so long in her room. Hermione blanched at Severus' remark but continued to observe him. She saw the pain in his eyes as he followed the movements of the students to their respective house tables. He clenched his fists in frustration. Her heart sank as she wished she hadn't ruined their tentative friendship, knowing that it could be something of a comfort to him. Would they ever regain what they'd started? She'd only wanted to help him, but in her efforts, she'd managed to hurt him more.

Good going! When will you ever learn that your desire to help is inversely affected by your belief that you know what's best for everyone?

Withdrawing into herself, she fell into self-berating. She didn't notice Minerva rising to give the welcome speech, nor did she hear the Headmistress introduce her as the new Transfiguration professor. A sharp nudge from Flitwick brought Hermione back to the present, and she rose and waved to the students. Sitting down, she regressed back to her dark thoughts. The feast went along without her, and before she knew it, everyone was rising and retiring to their rooms. She followed suit and once there, immediately went over to her desk.

Pulling out parchment and quill, she sat down and started a letter to Severus. She frowned as her words began to complete themselves.

Severus,

If you activate take the time to ready this and not buttress it on sight, I wander to thank

"What on earth? I didn't write that!"

She eyed the senseless statement carefully, examining the parchment it was written on. It was the new one she'd just bought from Scrivenshaft's: the self-correcting parchment. She'd not had a chance to try it out since the trip to Hogsmeade. She quickly vanished the whole thing while shaking her head. Obviously, there were a few kinks to work out with the new parchment. If she hadn't felt so melancholy, she would have chuckled.

Pulling out a new parchment, she ensured that it was the normal kind and began again. Severus may not listen to her, but she would explain herself to him. He could do what he wanted to the letter, but she would sleep better knowing that she'd apologized and told him why she'd done what she had. She was an optimist, so she would hope for the best.

Severus slammed his door and stalked into his bedroom. His hands were balled into fists, and his breathing was coming in short bursts. Between the students and their vile stares and Hermione's attempt to manipulate the situation, he was ready to throw hexes again. He moved to his bed and sat down heavily. Dropping his head into his hands, he let his fingers grip his hair tightly. This was so much worse than he'd even imagined.

Will they all stare at me forever? Will she continue to goad me?

His hands tugged at his hair all the harder. He was tempted to pull every last strand out.

He pictured Hermione's concerned look as she'd placed her hand on his arm during the feast. She was good, he'd give her that. If he didn't know better, he'd think she really was worried about him.

He chuckled to himself in irony. "She was just looking for a good laugh, you dunderhead," he said to himself. "I've given her enough material to last a lifetime," he whispered to himself bitterly.

His hands slid from his hair and covered his face. Sighing heavily, he let his shoulders sag forward as the rest of his body slumped down. He felt utterly defeated.

"I thought she was different...."

He stayed that way for a long time, his mind racing with ugly thoughts.

I should have never trusted her, but I enjoyed her company. She was becoming a friend to me. How could I have been so foolish as to let her get close to me like that? Why did she even bother? She knew what I was like; she knew how broken I was.

He frowned. Her words were all lies. She kept her Animagus form from me so I would babble on about my pain. What kind of woman does that?

His hands fell from his face. He looked up, misery in his eyes. "Everything she said was just a ruse to get me to show my weakness. She just wanted to goad me into showing what a mess I am. She must be incredibly disappointed that her trickery didn't work."

His mind argued with his logic. A niggling doubt whispered and caressed his psyche. His thoughts flashed to Hermione's vehement defense of him in Hogsmeade. That episode was a bit difficult to explain away. Why would someone who was trying to make fun of me defend me in such a way? It wasn't the first time, either.... Clenching his fist, he slammed it into his open palm. Pushing any doubt far from his mind, he grit his teeth. "It doesn't matter. She has proven herself to be untrustworthy. She will not trick me again!"

He rose and stalked into the bathroom. He quickly disrobed and stepped into the shower. The water coursed over his body as Severus let his head drop back, allowing the water to beat upon his scalp. He put Hermione Granger out of his mind. She didn't deserve all the time he'd spent agonizing over her. His head came forward to let the water pound into his back. Steam surrounded him, and he breathed it in deeply. His eyes closed as he got lost in the feeling of the hot water pounding his skin.

A long time later, he regretfully pulled himself from the shower. After toweling off his hair, he slipped into his favorite robe, smirking at the burgundy color. He knew there would be a scandal among the faculty if they ever found out he liked a color so close to Gryffindor red. He arched an eyebrow. Perhaps he should parade around in it just for laughs?

He went back to his bed and settled into it, his back propped against the headboard. Pulling his teaching plans from his bedside table, he began to look over his notes for the next day. His trepidation at the reception he'd get from the students, however, caused him to lose his concentration repeatedly. His eyes wandered away from the page and stared off, unseeing.

The students will revile me.... At least as Headmaster I didn't have to see them in a classroom setting. It was hard enough receiving the cold stares from those bold enough to even look at me while walking through the halls.

I deserved it, though. I did something horrible. It hasn't ceased to be horrible, has it? Despite the true motives of my actions, they were still abominable. Everything I've done has been abominable.

His eyes came into focus, and he frowned intensely. Placing his lesson plans on the bed beside him, he got up and stormed into his lounge. Heading over to the fireplace, he scowled at the portrait carefully hung above it. Snatching it from its place, he glowered at the old man who was pretending to sleep.

"Why are you always here, Albus? Don't you have a larger portrait in which to waste away eternity?"

Albus' eyes opened, and he gazed at Severus. "You seem troubled, my boy."

Severus ignored the obvious bid for him to share his feelings. "Why?" he stated sharply.

"Why what, son?"

"I told you before, I am not your son. Why did you make me kill you?"

Albus' eyebrows creased. "I thought that was all clear."

"The only thing that was clear was that you wanted me to be the most hated wizard in our world. Why else would you have me strike down the most beloved one?"

"The plan, Severus. We had to follow the plan."

Severus' grip on the portrait tightened. "Who said that was the only way to accomplish your Machiavellian plan? Who said that I would have to do something so heinous I still cannot get over it? Who said that my life was so much less than yours that it could be sacrificed for your own devices?"

Albus lifted his hands in appeasement. "Now, Severus, you were agreeable to this."

Severus' eyes narrowed. He was tempted to snap the frame in half, but he wasn't done with his old taskmaster quite yet. "I was never agreeable to this. We argued endlessly over it. You ignored everything I said. I know you find me repulsive, but..."

Albus protested emphatically. "That's not it, Severus. I think of you as a son."

"A son who disgusts you, right? You've told me that repeatedly, or has your dead mind forgotten the details of that?"

"You are not..."

"Do not lie, Albus!" he chided sharply. "Was this some sort of punishment? Did you think that because I had once sided with the enemy that you needed to make me suffer for it? Did you not think that all that I had done prior to that one moment on the Astronomy tower was punishment enough?"

"Severus!"

"Did you not understand that I lay awake at night, berating myself for my foolish actions as a youth? Because of me, the woman I loved was killed. Was that not punishment enough for you, Dumbledore?" Severus was trembling now, he was so incensed.

"I wasn't trying to punish you! I was dying anyway."

Severus pulled the portrait up to his face and glared at it. "There were other ways you could have died! Why did you insist that I take it upon myself? Were you secretly hoping that I would be killed for it?"

Albus sputtered.

"That's it, isn't it? You wanted me dead, too!"

"I never wanted..."

"Then why? Why did it have to be my hand that struck you down?"

"It secured..."

"It secured my place! Yes, I know that. Do you know what else it secured? The hatred of everyone around me!"

"Severus, you are exaggerating. I do believe that perhaps it's your hatred of yourself that is spurring this argument. No one hates you. You are projecting your own feelings about yourself onto others. I've spoken with Minerva. She's concerned for you. So is the rest of the staff. They are your friends."

Severus sneered. "Friends? They barely talk to me! I am an outcast in what should be my own home, and it's because of you!" He stabbed the portrait mercilessly.

Albus looked to Severus knowingly. "This has to do with Professor Granger, doesn't it?"

"Everything is not about Granger!" he snapped.

"The children returning, then? Do you think they will treat you badly? Surely, Severus, you are used to that."

Severus' hand shook harder with rage. "Why do you think they treat me thusly?"

"Well, I assume it's because of your surly attitude."

"It's because of you, you idiot! It doesn't matter why I killed you; I am a murderer! I can never escape that. Because of you, I can never find acceptance in this world, and I am trapped within it."

Albus looked sternly at Severus. "You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself. That is when you will find acceptance, because you won't be condemning yourself."

"Can you not take responsibility for anything, you pitiful excuse for a wizard?" Severus scowled at the painted man looking sternly at him. "I am done with you. You cannot give me a good reason why you have made me suffer, and you insist on berating me for things beyond my control. Burn in hell for all I care!"

With that, he flung the portrait into the flames. He watched in satisfaction as Dumbledore shouted and ran from the portrait. Severus could have sworn Dumbledore's robes were singed as he made his escape.

Severus stood there until the frame was nothing but ashes, all the while what Dumbledore had said repeated itself in his head. Shaking his head, he pushed it away. The old man had never tried to truly help him in the past, why would he begin now?

Glaring into the fireplace, a smirk crept onto his mouth. He eyed the burning cinders, feeling a weight lift from him. He'd destroyed Albus Dumbledore once again. Unlike the brutal murder he'd committed before; this act had given him a sense of accomplishment. He felt lighter than he'd felt in months. Burning Albus had truly felt exhilarating.

A/N: Thanks to talesofsnape for the squeefully beautiful banner! Hugs to slytherinlaurel for the wonderful beta job.