Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Hermione sat before the fire in her chambers sipping a glass of wine and trying to make sense of the Headmaster's parting question. Who says I've accepted your resignation?

It wasn't up to him, was it? He couldn't force her to sign a new contract, so she didn't see where he had any choice but to accept her notice.

And why would he refuse, anyway? He had made it clear from her very first day on the job that he considered her appointment as temporary in nature and would do his best to hasten her departure. She had often wondered why he had hired her in the first place, if he was just going to maintain the animosity of years gone by. She had gone over and over their interview in her mind, trying to discern whether he had given any clue of his intended removal of her presence from Hogwarts, but she could find nothing unusual in the interaction.

Three Years Earlier

Hermione arrived at the Hogwarts Gate ten minutes ahead of schedule. She was so excited at the possibility of returning to her alma mater to teach that she had been unable to wait another minute. However, she forced herself to pace for several minutes before sending a Patronus to request admittance. It wouldn't do to be too early, would it?

Mr. Filch let her in soon enough, and walked her to the Headmaster's office, where Professor Snape greeted her cordially; well, as cordially as she thought possible for him. She assumed from his civility that he really did intend to start fresh, as colleagues, and she was delighted at the prospect. He was so very brilliant, and she thought how exciting it would be to work with him on a daily basis without the necessity of maintaining the pretences that had accompanied his role as a spy or the barrier of the student-teacher relationship that had existed between them before.

She dismissed any thought of his behaviour toward her when she had visited him in hospital. He had obviously been in pain and feeling unwell, and it had long been his habit to take out his frustrations on the nearest Gryffindor. Since she was the only person who had visited him with any regularity, that was her. She hadn't blamed him for it – it would take time to recover from all he had seen and done during the two wars he had fought, and there was still the spectre of the trial hanging over his head, too.

She had stubbornly kept visiting him, despite his protests, for nearly two months after he woke from his coma. At last, she had decided that it probably wasn't helping his recovery that he kept getting so worked up and belligerent in his efforts to kick her out, so she had stopped visiting. Besides, it wasn't like she didn't have enough problems in her own life, without putting energy into visiting someone who didn't want visitors. When she finally caught Ron cheating one time too many (and far too publicly), she decided to leave Britain to continue her Arithmancy training at Beauxbatons.

When she had heard of Professor Vector's impending retirement, she had considered whether Professor Snape would have moved on from the past, and whether he would be willing and able to treat her as any other colleague. She hadn't wanted to be too presumptuous, so she had sent a letter of inquiry rather than a formal application, and had been pleasantly surprised by the courteous reply she had received.

Now, Headmaster Snape was his usual taciturn self, but since he wasn't actively insulting her, she felt quite comfortable doing most of the talking. She provided her CV and references, asked about the particulars of the position, and answered his perfunctory questions about her experience and qualifications. Eventually, he asked, "Are you certain this is the path you want to take, Miss Granger?"

"Yes, I'm very excited at the prospect of teaching Arithmancy. I've found my student teaching experiences to be very rewarding, although certainly challenging at times."

"And you think you will be able to cope with me as your supervisor and your former teachers as your colleagues? History can be difficult to overcome."

"I'm sure it will be fine, Headmaster. The past is the past. I'm interested in the future, so if you see fit to give me a chance, I can promise never to hold anything that's happened before against you."

His expression remained neutral as he studied her; after a moment, he said, "Very well, Miss Granger. I will hold you to your word, however. The past will be well and truly buried once you sign the contract. I don't want to hear anything about it again."

She thought his wording a little odd, but then, this was Professor Snape, and she had never known him when he wasn't playing some sort of life and death role. He said the past would be buried, so she would trust that they were starting anew.

Present

Three years later, Hermione couldn't help thinking she must have missed something important in that interview. He had seemed to say he was agreeable to putting the past behind him, but his behaviour once she had started the job made clear that she must have misunderstood him.

Or perhaps he had just immediately hated her all over again in the present every bit as much as he had in the past. Shaking her head, she muttered, "Stop worrying about it, Hermione. It doesn't matter anymore, does it? You're leaving in three months. If you haven't figured it out in three years, you won't manage it in three months."

She Scourgified her wine glass and headed off to bed.

Severus stalked through the corridors for most of the night. Even though he was headmaster and could have delegated the late rounds to other members of the staff, he did many of them himself. The ones he did pawn off, naturally, went to the bane of his existence, as part of his campaign to make her want to leave. He'd have given her all of them, except for two considerations: first, Minerva would have his head – he currently used the excuse that as the newest member of staff, she naturally got the least pleasant assignments, and anyway, he wasn't asking her to do anything he didn't do quite frequently himself.

Second, he wouldn't sleep regardless. Years of attempting to sleep with one eye open had left him a permanent insomniac, it seemed. Since there was nothing worse than lying awake in bed, waiting for sleep that wouldn't come, he chose to continue his rounds each night until exhaustion ensured two or three hours of rest.

He knew what people said about him, both behind his back and sometimes to his face. The students still called him a git and a bastard and a vampire or whatever other unpleasant names they could think of. And, as Lucius had pointed out earlier, people in the community still wondered where his loyalties had really been during the war, and still whispered that he had been the one to get away with killing the great Albus Dumbledore.

Minerva and Filius worried about him, he knew – they took turns nagging at him, it seemed, about sleeping more, eating more, drinking less. He couldn't even find respite in his office, where Albus's portrait told him to take better care of himself or he'd find himself in his own portrait far too soon. Severus ignored him if he was in a good mood or threatened him with turpentine if he wasn't.

What none of them understood was that he couldn't eat better, or sleep more, or drink less. He was still, after all these years, in constant pain, and it only got worse when he stopped moving for any length of time. Alcohol was one of the few things that had any impact on it – even his best pain potions didn't scratch the surface. He had no appetite, and much as he liked to blame his constant low level of queasiness on Granger and Longbottom, it had been his faithful companion since the day he had woken from his coma, long before any of them had returned to Hogwarts. As a consequence, he had lost weight he couldn't spare since the war had ended.

He didn't have the energy to be charming most of the time. Even this evening, when he had had every intention of starting the process of improving his relationship with Granger, he hadn't been able to do it. His neck had been aching and his feet felt like they were being pricked by a thousand miniature knives; standing still while she railed at him for his past behaviour didn't help. He had finally been forced to let her leave (though not with the last word) because if he hadn't moved soon, he'd have been unable to contain the pain any longer, and she'd have witnessed yet another weak moment in his life.

Now, though, he would have to find the energy to be pleasant if he wanted to keep his job. As much as he lacked patience for certain aspects of it – the fundraising, the Board meetings, the hassles with the Ministry – he needed it. It was his reason for forcing himself out of bed every morning, and it entitled him to continue to live in the only home he had ever known. He couldn't fathom finishing his life anywhere else.

Clearly, he would have to find a way to access the charming side of himself that Lucius was so sure was hidden within.

He continued to ponder the problem until he finally fell into bed and instantly into a restless sleep.

"Severus." He heard the voice, but he ignored it. He didn't want to talk to her – not now, and maybe not ever again.

"Severus, stop ignoring me. This is important." He would not look, he decided. He could be more stubborn than she was.

"Severus Tobias Snape, if I ever meant anything to you, then turn your skinny arse around and talk to me!"

Sighing, he turned. She looked the same as ever – long red hair, brilliant green eyes that looked so much better on her than on her irritating son. And annoyed. Distinctly annoyed, with hands on hips and foot tapping impatiently. He had been deluding himself, thinking he could out-stubborn Lily Evans Potter. He had never managed it before, had he? "What do you want, Lily? I'm sleeping."

"Yes, I know. When you're awake, you're too closed off to listen to me."

"Why do you want to talk to me, anyway? You're the one who told me I had to keep living after that snake debacle. For what? You said it would get better, but my life is just as miserable as it ever was. More, since I can't even get rid of the people I don't want around."

"Severus, you're being a stubborn git, as always. For one thing, you know perfectly well that wasn't me – although I would have said the exact same thing if it had been. Not that it would have made any difference. I should have known you would refuse every reasonable effort to help you the minute you were well enough to get on your feet and walk away. When are you going to grow up and learn?"

"What are you on about now? No one wants to help me. Well, except Lucius, and that's just because he thinks he owes me."

"What about Minerva? Or Filius? Weren't you whinging earlier about how they nag you to take better care of yourself?"

"I never said that!"

"Not out loud. But since I'm a figment of your dream world, I don't even have to do Legilimency to know what you've been thinking."

"If this is a dream, I want to wake up."

"No! Not until you listen to me!"

"Fine, then. Get to the point, please. I'd like to get some rest tonight."

"You really need more sleep, Severus. Maybe then you wouldn't be so cranky."

"I can't sleep! You just said you know my thoughts, so how did you miss that I can't sleep?"

"No need to get snippy, Severus. I'm trying to help you, you know. Anyway, if you'd go back to St. Mungo's and take that treatment they've been trying to get you to agree to for the last seven and a half years, maybe you'd feel better, and you'd be able to eat and sleep."

"I'm not going to be a guinea pig in some dunderhead's experiment."

"What makes you think it's still experimental after all this time? If you had been paying attention instead of wallowing in self-pity, you'd realise that it's now considered standard treatment for all magical venom-related illnesses."

"Why haven't I heard of this?"

"Because whenever Professor Granger tried to talk to you about it, you insulted her until she went away."

Severus looked away. "When did she try to talk to me about it?"

A different, even more unwelcome voice answered. "Once a week for the first six months I was here." Severus whipped his head back toward where Lily was, only to discover Hermione Granger in her place – and with the same annoyed expression. "Then I decided you must have already tried it, so I gave up trying to ask you about it."

"Why are you here?"

"I'm sure I don't know. It's your dream, isn't it?"

"Well, tell me about this treatment, then."

"No. If you want to know about it, you should ask me, politely, when you're awake. Now go to sleep. You don't get enough as it is – you can't be having these long conversations all night long."

"That's what I –" Severus protested, but she disappeared before he could finish the thought.

"Night, Sev," Lily called, though she wasn't visible, either. "Sleep well!"

Severus managed to sleep an hour later than usual the next morning.