Chapter Five

During the next few weeks, Severus continued to teach Hermione Occlumency. He made no further attempts to touch her, and she was careful not to show him any more memories of Viktor Krum.

He continued to assure her he would not break into her thoughts uninvited, remarking wryly that he was sure she could produce a potent Shield Charm, and that there were some memories he was not yet ready to show her. As their lessons became more advanced, however, he did have to show her some memories of his own in order to teach her. These, she suspected, were carefully chosen to be neutral – him teaching, marking essays, sitting in the staff room, but they were always accompanied by a strong sense of isolation, of terrible loneliness. With her parents gone and her friends no longer able to communicate with her, Hermione knew only too well how that felt, and she resolved to make an effort to be nice to him. She no longer pushed him on the subject of Harry, she no longer insulted or ignored him, and sometimes she even allowed herself to brush his hand as he passed her a Butterbeer, or touched his shoulder as she passed him sitting hunched over piles of paper at his desk.

He often seemed tired or strained, and although he never confided the reasons to her, he did seem to accept her small gestures of comfort. Gradually, they seemed to achieve a sort of unspoken solidarity.

Until, one day, Seamus Finnegan approached Hermione in Transfiguration. He strode up to her, leaned over her desk and hissed in her face, 'Tell your bloody husband to leave our friends alone!'

'What?' Hermione asked, leaning backwards in an attempt to escape Seamus' wrath.

'Neville, Ginny and that mad Ravenclaw girl,' Seamus spat. 'He's only gone and given them detention in the Forbidden Forest!'

Hermione's stomach sank. A few years ago she would have said Ginny, Neville and Luna would be safe with Hagrid and Fang, but Hagrid himself had said it wasn't safe for him to enter the forest now Aragog was dead, and the centaurs had made it very clear that they would not tolerate students encroaching on their territory any longer.

'What did they do to deserve that?' she asked faintly.

'Ask him,' Seamus spat. 'I'm saying nothing!'

Fortunately, Professor McGonagall swept into the classroom at that moment, and Seamus scurried back to his desk.

*

After Transfiguration, Hermione raced up to Severus' office, burst through the door and then stopped dead, staring at the wall. The glass case that housed the sword of Gryffindor was smashed, empty. No glass littered the floor, however; Severus must have cleared it up. He was sitting at his desk, writing a letter, and he looked up at Hermione as she skidded into the room, took in the sight and gasped, 'What happened?'

'Miss Weasley, Miss Lovegood and Longbottom had evidently decided the sword of Gryffindor had no place in a Slytherin's office. I caught them trying to smuggle it down the stairs.' He eyed her suspiciously. 'Did you know anything about this?'

'Not until Seamus bawled me out in front of the whole Transfiguration class,' Hermione said hotly. 'I never see Ginny or Luna now, and I doubt Neville will talk to me in class after this.'

'I must maintain discipline in the school.'

'For God's sake, Severus! There are werewolves in there. And Acromantula. There are probably even Dementors in there now!'

'Would you rather I handed them over to the Carrows?'

Hermione felt sick as she remembered Dennis Creevey being tortured in their Dark Arts lesson, but now she had worked herself up, she couldn't stop herself, and months' worth of fermenting anger burst out of her: anger at Severus, the Ministry, everything. 'You know what?' she yelled. 'I'm sick of this. I've had it up to here with the way you treat the students. I'm sick of walking down the corridors, hearing their tales of abuse at your hands and feeling guilty by association. You bullied Neville because he's slow, me because I'm not, Harry because he's Harry: because you hated James at school!'

Severus ignored the outburst, although it seemed to cost him some effort: his black eyes were glittering again. Instead he looked up at the portrait of Dumbledore which, for once, contained its subject. 'It is time,' he said heavily. 'She cannot continue in ignorance; it is making my life impossible. You agree?'

'As discussed then, Severus,' said Dumbledore, smiling. 'I am only surprised you have waited this long.'

Severus strode to the cupboard and took out the Pensieve. Hermione eyed it warily. Harry had told her about his excursions onto the memory-keeper with Dumbledore, and she didn't fancy it one bit.

'Where are we going?'

'Back into my past. You have shown me your memories. It is time I returned the favour.' He took hold of her hand and looked into her eyes. 'Trust me. Please.'

Hermione took a deep breath and nodded mutely.

They landed on the floor of a dingy room occupied by three people. Hermione knew immediately who they were. The tall, hook-nosed man in front of her could only be Severus' father. He was shouting at a sallow skinned, terrified looking woman. Hermione heard a tiny sob and looked round. Huddled in the corner sat a small, dark haired boy, watching his mother and father through his fingers and crying his heart out. Hermione longed to be able to go to him and pick him up.

'How old were you?' she whispered.

'That time,' said Severus coldly, staring straight ahead, 'four. But it was not the last time and, although it is my earliest memory, I do not suppose for a minute it was the first.'

Hermione didn't know what to say. Mutely, she reached out and took Severus' hand.

*

Half an hour later, they landed back on the floor of the office. They had seen all of Severus' salient memories – except one. Dumbledore had warned him against showing Hermione what he had learnt about the eighth Horcrux. They agreed that if she knew Harry had to die, she would go rushing off to find him and would land herself in trouble from which even Severus would not be able to rescue her.

Hermione's face was wet with tears, and Severus looked drained, physically and emotionally. He sat down on the desk and motioned for her to sit beside him. There was almost a pleading note in his voice as he said, 'Say something.'

'Lily?' said Hermione almost inaudibly.

He smiled ruefully. 'I thought that might be your first question.'

Hermione just stared at him.

'I loved Lily. I will not lie to you, I think in some way I always will. But she is a part of my past, whilst you are part of my present and my future.'

'Your Patronus...'

'Matched hers. It wasn't a conscious decision.'

Hermione made no answer. Severus sighed, then put his head in his hands. 'I am glad you know everything,' he said, his voice muffled. 'It lightens the load somewhat. The whole school is depending on me, and yet I have felt utterly alone.' He raised stricken eyes to Dumbledore's portrait. 'How did you stand it?'

Dumbledore beamed. 'I had you, Severus. And now you have your wife.'

Severus turned to Hermione. 'I realise this is a lot to take in, Hermione, but I can't do this alone. I need your help.'

Hermione thought of what she had just seen: of Dumbledore asking 'I have your word that you will do all in your power to protect the students of Hogwarts?'

'Yes,' said Hermione, and she seemed to gather herself together. 'Yes, I'll help you – whatever I can do.'

'The two of us against the world, then.'

'It is the quality of one's convictions that determines success, not the number of followers.'

'Who said that?' he asked, thinking of the philosophy book again.

She smiled. 'Me.'

They stared at each other for a few moments, then, to his utter astonishment, she launched herself into his arms.

'Oh, Severus, I'm so sorry!'

He gazed down at the top of her head in utter bewilderment. 'Sorry for what?'

'Everything,' she sobbed. 'We've been so horrible to you all these years. I've been horrible to you ever since... ever since... we got married. I accused you of hating Harry because you hated James... I...'

'Shhh, Hermione, don't upset yourself,' Severus said softly, getting up from the desk. He led Hermione round to his desk chair, then sat down and lifted her onto his lap. She refused to look at him, hiding her face in his shoulder instead.

'You knew nothing about my double life,' he whispered, stroking her hair as she cried. 'You were right to mistrust me; I have played my part well. If you hated me that much, I must be convincing. That is reassuring; it will stand me in good stead this year.'

Hermione thought about everything she'd seen in the Pensieve: how much he had suffered, how lonely he had been all his life, those few short years of happiness with Lily, then nothing but suffering and loneliness again. For some reason she couldn't analyse right now, the thought of him feeling alone upset her even more than the memory of how awful she'd been to him. And worse than either of those was the knowledge that no-one else knew, that everyone else still hated him.

She raised tear-filled eyes to his, and as he looked down at her with nothing but concern in his face, she saw through the cold mask behind which he always hid, to the man beneath.

Then – she didn't know how it happened – she had her arms around his neck and was kissing him fiercely. After a moment of stunned disbelief, he responded with equal ferocity, twining his fingers in her hair and pulling her as close as possible.

When, after several minutes, they broke apart, breathless and dazed with surprise, neither spoke. Hermione laid her head on Severus' shoulder again, and he rested his chin gently on the crown of her head. They stayed like this until the sun had set outside the office window.

*

A/N: Dumbledore's line is from DH Ch 33. The 'quality of one's convictions' quote and the next two lines come from the final Harry Potter film.