My Immortal

You used to captivate me

Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me...

~ "My Immortal" by Evanescence

I sat there staring at the familiar spiky script. I wanted nothing more than to dive right into the man's thoughts. To know what he went through and what made him tick. On the other hand, I knew he had been an exceptionally private man. In the face of this, my reading this book would be the height of disrespect; he would have considered it most dishonorable.

With this thought I closed the journal, and placed it gently in my lap.

I felt emotionally torn as I weighed the pros and cons of reading the sad autobiography which I held. I absentmindedly stroked the leather cover while I stared at the office wall, lost in my thoughts.

Finally, my curiosity won out.

I slowly stood and clutched the journal close to my body as if I were protecting it from the harsh outside world. I entered my quarters and sat myself in the comfortable armchair which was situated in front of the hearth. With a somewhat guilty conscience, I lit a fire, summoned some tea, and settled in to read.

22 November 1981

You would be shocked to know that I'm finally writing in the book you gave me years ago. It has taken your death for me to actually use it. You knew I never had any aptitude for romantic words or feelings. And I doubt I will ever be able to express what is on my mind properly, but I'm going to try because this is something you wanted for me... an outlet for my pain and suffering...

I've already gone to Dumbledore; I wanted him to save you... He's going to keep me out of Azkaban in exchange for remaining his spy, as if I had a choice. There's no telling how long I'll be able to survive when the Dark Lord does return. But I swear I will endure whatever pain and suffering because I know I deserve it. In the end, I hope he kills me slowly...

Wiping at the single tear tracking down my cheek, I closed the book and placed it on the coffee table. My thoughts were as tortured as those of the man whose journal I now possessed.

If this is the first entry, I can only imagine how much worse his state of mind is going to get, I mused. He's going to have another seventeen years to suffer with this agony... I'm glad that he's finally at rest, but to live with this kind of guilt for nearly two decades must have been simply unbearable.

As much as I might want to know what he has to say next, I really think I need a break.

With this thought I felt and heard a distinct rumble coming from my stomach. It appeared as though having dinner in the Great Hall would be at the top of my to-do list.

I knew I didn't want to leave Professor Snape's journal simply sitting out on my coffee table as if it were an everyday piece of reading material. Searching my mind for the safest place to store it, I settled on my bedside table drawer. I gently picked up the worn, leather bound book and walked into my bedroom.

Over the weeks since I'd arrived at Hogwarts, I sincerely tried to make the room a tad more comfortable. In the beginning I found it difficult living without any natural light. Having quarters in the dungeon, as convenient as they might be, severely messed with my mood. They were cold, dark, damp and just generally depressing. The aesthetic issues weren't my only problem though. In the back of my mind, I knew the man who continued to make cameo appearances in my dreams once called this room home.

My attempts to create a more comfortable environment included plenty of photographs. Reminders of my life before the war changed... well, everything. I created a magical window also, something that would simulate the rising and setting of the sun. I placed it on the far right wall adjacent to my double four poster bed.

I walked across the room to sit on the bed and pulled out the drawer of my bedside table. Being moderately paranoid, I placed a few nasty wards on the table after stowing the journal. Passing the vanity on my way out, I briefly checked my appearance and quickly exited in search of dinner.

Still not entirely comfortable with the staff entrance, I entered the Great Hall through the large oak doors. Most of the students had already arrived and were tucking into their meals. I smiled and nodded as I made my way to the head table.

I chose the available seat next to my long-time friend, and current Herbology professor, Neville Longbottom.

"Good evening, Hermione!" Neville said joyfully as I sat down. "How did your first day of lessons go? Any explosions?" He continued while spooning a helping of roast potatoes onto his plate.

I groaned in response. Seriously, just the thought of rehashing my entire day gave me a headache.

I took a second to begin adding some broccoli and carrots to my plate before answering him. "No, no explosions. Although I think Mr. Craig had actually been looking for one. I managed to catch him in the act of adding porcupine quills to his boil cure while the cauldron was still sitting on the fire... His demeanor gave him away, the mischievous glint in his eyes just told me he was up to something."

"I, ummm, know all about those quills... the hard way. But, wow, you're already getting a feel for who the troublemakers are! I have to admit, it took me a little longer than a day to suss them out," he said with a chuckle.

Before I brought a fork-full of roast chicken to my mouth, I turned back to Neville. "Everything a success for you today?"

I listened as my dinner partner regaled me with tales of his plants and his students. And of how his students handled his plants. I could tell that he'd been simply itching to talk to someone about it.

Ugh, the ins and outs of Herbology never held any interest for me. I love Neville, but he's going to bore me to tears if he keeps this up.

Plants as they relate to potions, or as ingredients, that I could discuss. Conversely, I knew Neville had no interest in potions as a subject, so we were pretty much even.

I could feel myself starting to zone out as his voice became a low level buzz. I mechanically ate my dinner and began contemplating the secret treasure locked away in my bedroom.

"It's really nice having you around, Hermione."

That one sentence called me back to reality.

"Oh, thank you, Neville. It's great to be here!" I said with genuine sincerity.

"It was getting a little tiresome being the youngest professor here..." he trailed off.

I placed my fork down and felt my plate disappear as I turned to face my blond-haired friend. I raised my left hand and gently set it on his right forearm comfortingly.

"I understand how difficult it must have been for you, Neville. Maybe we could plan a trip to Hogsmeade some weekend to catch up?"

My heart warmed a little just by watching his eyes begin to sparkle. Then the most relieved smile I had ever seen broke out across his face.

"That would be wonderful, Hermione! I can't wait to hear all about Germany."

With a quiet pop, treacle pudding appeared on the table.

"Would you like some?" Neville asked kindly.

"Actually, I'm going to need to decline. I have some reading that I really need to catch up on before I go to sleep."

"Oh, okay! Well, maybe next time."

We bid each other good night, and I quickly made the trek back to my dungeon quarters in search of my comfortable bed and a very engaging book.

Finally snuggled into my bed, surrounded by pillows, I reached into my night stand and pulled out Professor Snape's journal.

Instead of reading the entire book in order, I flipped through the pages until I came to a date that I recognized.

31 Aug 1991

The students return tomorrow and a whole new group of first year dunderheads for me to break in. I loathe the start of term as surely as the sun rises, but this year will be the worst. Your son will be on the Hogwarts Express tomorrow. And for the next seven years I will have the privilege of looking upon the flesh and blood proof that you loved another man.

I don't know how he's going to do it, and all I can do is wait. That's all I've been doing... waiting. When the time comes, as much as I may resent his existence, I will protect your son. He's all that's left of you on this earth. And even though I won't be able to stop thinking about how I had always hoped that he would have been our son, I will still protect him...

"This man's devotion knows no bounds..." I said aloud as I flipped through the pages once more.

24 June 1995

I will without a doubt be sent straight to hell upon my death. There is no light at the end of the tunnel for me. You would more than likely tell me I'm being melodramatic. But once you hear what I had to do tonight, I think you would only agree with my assessment.

Now, my only option is to find a way to keep my final breath from coming... something that would essentially keep me in a coma for eternity. Where my existence would be whatever I created from my own dreams and mind. I already have a few ideas... after tonight, I think it's time to investigate the alternatives.

I closed the book and gently placed it on my comforter-covered lap.

He wanted an alternative to death? Now I want to know if he found it! What if the Death Eaters didn't take his body like we assumed?

My thoughts were traveling a mile a minute. Over and over I considered the implications of what I had just read.

I need to know how his research fared... What if he's still alive somewhere?

I glanced at my bedside clock and groaned, I also need to tackle second year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws at eight a.m... I really should get some sleep. I'd hate to have to explain to the Headmistress why there was an explosion on my second day of classes... But, Professor Snape... damn it!

Frustrated, I put the book away and called out, "Nox." As I closed my eyes I cursed the existence of adult responsibilities and prayed for sleep to take me quickly.

A/N: Again thanks to my awesome alpha reader team and my amazing beta, karelia.

This was one of my favorite chapters to write! I hope you all enjoyed it!

Much Love,

~ Brena