What's All Around You

Severus' weeping hadn't lasted long when he felt a gentle, yet icy hand on his shoulder. His head shot up, and he stared at the person owning the hand. Stooped down and gazing into his eyes was Albus Dumbledore.

Severus groaned within himself. "Not you, too..."

"My boy, it's wonderful to see you again."

"Sod off, you old coot."

"Now, now. Why would you be so harsh to an old friend?"

Severus' teeth ground together as he sneered at Dumbledore.

"Friends don't kill one another, remember, Dumbledore? I am no friend of yours, and you are certainly no friend of mine."

Albus reached into his robe and pulled out a small tin. It might have been silver at one time, but now it was just as gray and see-through as Dumbledore himself. He removed the lid and pushed the tin into Severus' face.

"Lemon drop?"

Severus batted the tin from his hand and stood up. Curling his hands into fists, he glowered hatefully at the man who had done so much to make his life miserable. He was so tense he felt as if he were about to shatter.

"Why are you here?" he snapped.

"Dear boy, you know why I'm here!" the old ghost said with a twinkle in his eye.

Severus' eyes narrowed. "I refuse to go anywhere with you!"

"Refuse if you must," Dumbledore replied, his eyes steadily holding Severus'. The ghost stood and now looked him straight in the eye. "Unfortunately, my boy, complain as you may, you have no choice!"

With that Dumbledore grasped Severus' hand, and the room began to spin. Severus gripped Dumbledore's hand as a wave of nausea enveloped him. Within a matter of seconds they had appeared in Timothy Bell's home.

Bell's parents were busily preparing the Christmas dinner. His father was chopping vegetables, and his mother was taking something out of the oven. She emerged, weighed down with a large turkey. Severus turned as he heard a commotion coming from the other room. Timothy's older sister, Katie, came rushing in.

"It's Tim!" she cried.

Her father dropped his knife, and her mother quickly placed the turkey on the stove before rushing out of the room. Severus felt a hand on his back, pushing him along to follow them. With a glare at Dumbledore, he stalked after the family, who were rushing upstairs.

Severus made his way up the stairs and to the bedroom where Timothy was. He stopped in the doorway as he saw the boy gasping for breath. His father ran to him and started waving his wand over him while his mother fumbled with several potions placed on his bedside table. She finally found the one she was searching for and hurried to pour it down Timothy's throat. His gasping subsided, but he fell back, exhausted.

"That... was... a... close one," he said between huge gasps of air.

His mother smoothed out his hair. "It's all right, Tim. You'll be just fine."

The young boy smiled at her lovingly.

Severus leaned back and whispered to Dumbledore. "Is there nothing that can be done? Surely, magic can cure the lad."

Dumbledore didn't bother whispering. His voice was strong. Despite the frightening situation, the timbre of his voice held the usual upbeat tone that had always made Severus' stomach turn. The man was just too chipper.

"They have taken him to every healer in the country. No one can discover what is wrong with him."

The boy was finally strong enough to rise from the bed. He got up gingerly, helped by his mother's strong hand on his arm.

"I'm fine, Mum," he told her, gently shaking off her hand.

Severus watched the boy limp over to his dresser and grab the brush, pulling it through his hair to straighten it out.

"Does he have these attacks often?" Severus asked Dumbledore.

"Almost every day. He doesn't like to bring attention to himself, so he stays in his room a lot. His roommates at Hogwarts help him get through the seizures, administering his potions when he is unable to function well enough to administer them himself."

"That is why I don't see him much. Come to think of it, I rarely see him at meals."

"The House-elves bring him his meals. Going up and down the stairs from the Gryffindor common room is very taxing for him."

"There must be something that can be done. For Merlin's sake, Dumbledore, we're wizards. This type of illness should never be seen amongst us."

Albus looked upon him sadly. "Alas, everything has been tried."

"A potion, perhaps? Something someone could develop specifically for him?"

Dumbledore shrugged.

"Well, what will become of him if he isn't cured?" Severus asked impatiently.

"I see an empty place at the table, and a family broken by loss."

Severus gazed at the young boy once again, his heart heavy as a pall overshadowed him. "Dumbledore, take me away from here. I cannot bear to watch it any longer."

Albus took Severus' hand once again, and the infernal spinning began. When they reappeared this time, Severus pulled his hand from Dumbledore's and glowered at him. "Must you do that? I do not..."

He looked around at his surroundings, finding himself in a cottage that was dimly lit. Hearing a whimpering sound coming from behind him, he turned and saw just who was making such a pitiful noise. Hermione Granger sat with her head in her hands, crying in front of her fireplace.

Severus looked to her with concern. "What's wrong with her?"

"What do you think is wrong, Severus?"

Severus studied her, then shrugged. "She is obviously upset about something."

"Yes, well spotted. It would seem you've lost none of your deductive reasoning over the years, my boy."

Severus glowered at his former taskmaster. "How should I know what's troubling the girl?"

"You are her employer, are you not?" Dumbledore demanded.

"Yes."

"Then it is your job to know what's wrong with her. You probably see her more than anyone else she knows, yet you know nothing about her, do you?"

"I know she is annoying."

"Is she really?"

Severus glanced at the girl who remained crying, her hands covering her face. Truly, she was no girl. She was a woman. The chit had grown into a woman without him even realizing it.

Her grief gave him pause. She came and did her work without idle chatter. He'd never asked her anything about her life outside the Potions lab. Yes, she'd talked a little about her parents, especially when they'd lost their minds again last spring, and she'd told him a little about what she did outside of her job, but what did he really know about her? He had no clue as to what would make her so sad.

"Is it her parents?" he asked Dumbledore.

Dumbledore gave him an appraising look and nodded. "That is part of it. I'm surprised you've even paid attention, actually, Severus. I didn't expect you to have the slightest inkling what was going on with her." He eyed Severus carefully. "Perhaps there's hope yet..."

"Dumbledore, what are you on about?"

Dumbledore waved his wispy hand in front of him. "Never mind. As I was saying, her parents are a great burden for her right now. She is filled with guilt because of their condition. She feels totally responsible for their memory lapse, despite the fact that at her age, she had no idea that such a side-effect could occur. Her overachieving mind blames her for not knowing something that on the outside appears to be simple. She forgets that such a side-effect is rare and mostly undocumented." He stared solemnly at Hermione before continuing. "She also misses the relationship she had with them. They are finally accepting her as their daughter once again, but they have no real ties to her. She is just a person who comes to visit now and then. A close friend, maybe, but they remember nothing of her childhood or youth. Her mother, who should be a confidant, is barely cordial. She feels the loss of her mother the worst."

"Can nothing be done?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "Perhaps a potion would help, but she doesn't know exactly where to start. That is what has driven her as your apprentice. She hopes to be able to someday come up with a cure for them."

"She never told me that," Severus muttered.

"What would you have said if she had?"

Severus looked sheepishly at Dumbledore. "I would have derided her efforts."

"Is it such a wonder that she hasn't mentioned it, then?"

Severus looked down to the floor.

"That is not the only thing that is troubling her."

Severus' eyes returned to the weeping woman, who had now slid off her chair and was curled on the hearth rug. Her shoulders heaved with her tears.

"No one will ever want me," she cried.

Severus gave Dumbledore a puzzled look. Dumbledore's eyebrows rose as he looked to Severus reproachfully, as if to say he was a total dunderhead.

"Although still young, Miss Granger is feeling her age. She sees everyone around her paired off and having children, yet she has failed to find the person who is suited to her. She feels that her chance has passed."

Severus looked back at the woman. "She is so very young," he remarked.

"Miss Granger is twenty-six," Dumbledore explained.

"She is brilliant, surely someone notices..."

"She is too smart, Severus. Men are intimidated by her."

Severus huffed. "Anyone who is intimidated by knowledge is truly a dunderhead."

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed. "Nevertheless, that is what she has to deal with, whether she realizes it or not. She feels it's her looks that turn men off. She truly doesn't realize that most men find her very attractive, but can't keep up with her mind."

"She is definitely attractive! How could she not see it?" Severus retorted.

Dumbledore nodded. "She doesn't believe it. No one has ever made her feel beautiful, and she feels her opportunity to find someone to love has passed."

Severus looked to the ground.

"Sound familiar?" Dumbledore asked slyly.

"Albus..." Severus snapped.

"You are not the only one to think love has passed you by. You are not the only one to think yourself unattractive when that isn't the case."

"Dumbledore!"

A cold hand was placed on his shoulder.

"You are not the only one who has given up hope for happiness in their life."

Severus examined the woman before him. Despite his sour attitude toward her, he'd been quite pleased with her progress. He'd just felt that to show his pleasure at her advancements would make her prideful. Pride and the Potions master never mixed. It resulted in dead potioneers.

"Surely, she must know of her abilities and qualities," he whispered, almost to himself.

Dumbledore gazed at him thoughtfully. "She believes what others say positively about her just as much as you do."

Severus huffed, but ignored the old coot's insinuations. He looked sadly upon Hermione, who was now sitting up and wiping her tears away. Her eyes were puffy, and her hair was a mess, but he thought she looked beautiful nonetheless.

"It's a shame no one appreciates her," he murmured.

"It truly is," Dumbledore agreed before taking his hand and spiriting away from Hermione Granger's home.

Severus felt the wave of dizziness again and found himself in the middle of a party. He turned around full circle, looking at all the people milling around chattering and saluting each other with drinks. Many of the occupants had ginger hair. A small child ran right through him, causing him to sputter. Then, a spiky-haired man with glasses came through the door from the kitchen.

"Potter," Severus spat.

"Happy Christmas, everyone!" Harry called. "We are delighted to have you all in our home once again this year."

Ron Weasley hugged his wife, Lavender and smiled widely at Harry. "Oi, where's Hermione?" he asked.

Harry looked to his old friend. "She decided to have a quiet evening," Harry explained.

"Is Snape coming?" a voice came from the crowd.

Harry looked troubled. "Once again, he declined my offer."

"Well," the voice went on. Severus turned to see it belonged to Percy Weasley. "He would just frown and bring a pall over everything anyway."

A chorus of "quite rights" and "hear, hears" went around the room.

"I do wish he'd learn to live," Harry mused.

"The day that happens is the day hell freezes over!" Molly said with a laugh.

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "We'll know the world's coming to an end on that day. The old git will never change. I think if he smiled his face would crack into a thousand pieces."

The entire room erupted in laughter. Severus turned and glowered at Dumbledore.

"These visions are not my fault," Dumbledore explained apologetically. "They are merely the truth of what is."

"The truth is that I am as hated as I thought."

Dumbledore nodded. "Too true, my boy." He patted Severus on the back. Despite his being a ghost, he sent Severus stumbling forward with the strength of his arm. "Perhaps you could work on changing that?"

Severus turned and glowered, but it made little effect, as a little, ginger-haired Weasley took the opportunity to run through him once again. Dumbledore looked on in amusement.

"There is nothing funny about this situation!" Severus snapped.

"My boy," Dumbledore began, once again placing a hand on his shoulder. "You do realize that despite their joking, these people would welcome you if you did decide to attend the party."

Severus sneered. "And talk about me behind my back."

"Well, you would deserve it, wouldn't you? You constantly harp on each of them throughout the year. They've all tried to be your friend, but you brush them off with snide remarks and ugly faces. Perhaps a heartfelt apology from you, mixed with the good will of the season would afford you yet another chance?"

Severus eyed the crowd, wondering just what it would be like to attend such a function and be welcomed. He had little time to mull it over, as Dumbledore took his hand again, and they spun away from the chattering group.

The spinning was so severe this time that Severus landed and immediately fell to the floor. He opened his eyes and found himself staring at his own cold, stone floor . His breath came heavily as his head lifted, and he looked around. Once again he was alone. Once again, he felt miserable. He sunk down on the floor, his head in his hands. Would this night ever end?

A/N: Thanks again go to karelia, who has been a saint in betaing this faster than lightning.