Chapter 5 - A Discovery

A/N: For simplicity's sake, titles of books, journals etc are underlined and emphasises are italicised.

Beyond Time and Space

Chapter 5 – A Discovery

That evening was unusually short for an all-enveloping darkness soon wrapped around the castle. This suited Severus perfectly as he re-examined his chambers. Astounding! Almost everything was as he had left it. If it were not for the pervasive smell of orange blossoms in the air, he was positive that the dungeons were still his domains. The sitting room was evidently used; there were scattered papers on the coffee table and the sofas. He stalked through to his library and realised that it and the sitting rooms were the only rooms she inhabited. He sat on the chaise lounge and traced his lips. Why wasn't the silly chit occupying the rest of his chambers? She had an expansive space to herself and she housed herself in the library. Extraordinary! Severus's keen eyes swept across the room, as he leaned further into the chaise. The chaise was definitely hers, he noted. He would not have used the uniquely feminine colour of mauve. She apparently slept on the chaise – the number of cushions and the neatly folded duvet attested to that. She had shifted a modest wardrobe, a dressing cabinet and a screen into the library. Curious as to the contents of the cupboards, he made his way there, trailing his hand along the spines of his books. Interesting! She managed to cram all her clothes into the wardrobe; all of them black, even the tights and stockings. Ah! Severus noted with a smirk, she had finally acquired good taste. She looked good in black, almost regally so. Her wit was sharp and formidable...He shook his head; he should not indulge in such thoughts. The girl was insufferable! She had disputed his right to be in his classroom before his students! How dare she! He moved briskly to the small cabinet still seething with anger.

"First Dumbledore gives her my position, then he gives her my apartments! First she sought to humiliate me my classroom! Now she moves my furniture!" he muttered under breath, opening her drawers. Hmm, even her undergarments and gloves were black, or at least, they were predominantly black. Good! She wore knickers that covered her behind in its entirety! She's not one to succumb to those ridiculous modern contraptions that left nothing to the imagination. Fools! Do not the designers in the industry know that the state of dishabille is more sensual than the state of total undress! Closing the drawers, he stopped momentarily, for the items on the cabinet caught his attention.

"Mother," he whispered, tightly shutting his eyes with great emotion. "Mother," he murmured again, lighting his fingers on the small bottle of Coty perfume. It explained the vaguely familiar orange blossom scent. Severus gently lifted the hairbrush and prior to running his thumb along its soft bristles, he played with the hairs stuck on it. "Damn this girl!" he muttered under his breath, replacing the hairbrush. It was almost a replica of his mother's. He arched a brow at the sight of the old fashioned 4711 loose powder and its ribboned powder puff. Miss Granger had exquisite taste – he conceded that much. He frowned sombrely. No! He would not be charitable to her even if she shared his mother's taste. She had taken over everything that was rightly his with military precision – she did not deserve any humane consideration from him. Mentally ranting thus, he came to the desk. Despite the fact that it was neatly arranged, as he had anticipated, one detail gave him food for thought. There was a half-empty teacup. It appeared that she had instructed the house elves not the clean the library and the sitting room. Unconsciously, he traced his lips again, as he thought on his mother. She had always sought to evade his father by hiding in the library. Once she had stationed herself there for a week before she was dragged out and beaten for protecting him. He shut his eyes with a pained look and turned away at the memory.

He looked at the desk again and found his well-thumbed copies of Plato's Republic and Machiavelli's Discourses on Livy sandwiching each other's pages. How dare she write in them! She even favoured the same books as mother! He recalled his mother's disappointment when he revealed that he had become a Death Eater and that he had killed his father. He had wanted her to be proud of him and he had failed her. Her weak health and his father's constant abuse of her finally took their toll on her and she wasted away at this news. Yet she did not revile him, she only called him a member of the 'Thirty Tyrants' and warned him to take care of his fate. On her dying breath, when she learned that he turned to Dumbledore's Order, she gave him his last lesson by informing him, " If you remember nothing, Severus, remember this: In the society created in Republic V, the best men and women who are true philosophers, passionately committed to reason and trained rigorously in its application would rule together as Guardians. A new education was needed to teach the Guardians to be 'philosophic, spirited, swift and strong', 'wise, courageous, moderate and just' so that such women and men will step forward and rule for the sake of the entire city's good. Personal ambition corrupts the souls and natures of ordinary men and women. Men are corrupted through the desire to distinguish themselves in the city to hear themselves being spoken of highly and being in the public limelight, while women are corrupted by the desire to enhance their own social statuses to push their male relatives to distinguish themselves in public office. Hence, personal ambition has no place in the city because it renders the city 'many and not one'. This is why the family is abolished in the Guardian class – to prevent the love of one's self and one's own from causing the individual or the various family members from acting on this personal ambition or channelling their ambitions on each other. The Guardians cannot afford to be corrupted by any familial misunderstanding or complaints of their high-minded abstention from meddling in what is none of their business to become greedy, selfish and haughty minded with their abilities."

His mother had been right – he should have paid attention to her teachings. Only she could rattle off stephanus numbers in a dire crisis. She had defended him using Plato and she died instructing him in the same. Why didn't he pay attention? Why? He could have saved himself the trouble of following Lucius Malfoy; he could have been contentedly insulated. Why could he not see the merit in his mother's teachings? The woman had been a seer, she had taught him indifference, calm and everything else; and he had learnt nothing but hatred. His reverie was fortunately interrupted; his keen hearing detected the entrance of another in his apartments. "At least I did not have to dwell in slumbering memories," he thought, making his way to the sitting room. "So," he mused, as he watched the figure resetting the wards, "She has deigned it fit for her to return after gallivanting with her precious dunderheads!"

Hermione waving her hand sharply front of her as if distracted by an insect while croaking in a voice hoarse with fatigue, "Lumos." As the rooms bathed in a soft flicking light of a few candles, Severus could make out Hermione hanging her robe and gingerly rubbing her neck, weariness printed all over her face. After casting a spell to remove the newspaper from the table to a muggle magazine rack by the sofas, she threw herself face-first onto the sofa. After lying still for a few minutes, she finally lifted her head. Severus was surprised to see how pale and drawn she had become. Before he could alert her to his presence, he heard a sharp feral hiss.

"What is it, Crookshanks?" she asked, as the half-kneazle jumped onto the sofa still hissing violently in Severus's direction. "Do you want milk? No? All right, off with you now, mamma needs to shower." Crookshanks purred his assent and rubbed against Hermione's cheek before giving Severus a final hiss. Then, he padded away to the library.

Severus shook his head in disapproval as she stretched languidly. She appeared much too thin. Interesting, she carried a riding crop, he noted, watching her leave the object aside. He could not help but notice the graceful manner in which she made her way to the library. A girl who reads Plato and Machiavelli cannot be all that unreasonable; he tried to speak again, however, he found himself tongue-tied. He could only watch her, as if entranced by her every movement. She sat before the makeshift dressing cabinet, her eyes emotionless, as she removed the bobby pins from her hair. He wondered how she did so without the aid of a mirror. Slowly, she proceeded to unwind her chignon and unbraid her hair, tossing her head lightly so that her thick cable cascaded down her back. Severus stared at the gently swaying mass where it hung close to the curve of her buttocks. He noticed that she had begun to undress as she made her way to the adjoining bathroom. He knew he should step out into the sitting room as a gentleman should, but his curiosity kept him rooted in the library. He was curious as to what she was really like.

"I really shouldn't be doing this," he reproached himself, as she flung her skirt, petticoat, stockings, corset-like brassiere and other items into the laundry basket with a tired sigh. He sought in vain to speak, to extricate himself from the scene, but he was unable to tear his eyes away from her pale form. His throat had become strangely constricted and he felt the rest of his body react accordingly. Hermione was thin; it was true; but not unhealthily so, he mused, as he took in her figure. She had a softness about her and her bushy hair formed a halo on her head. Lovely, he thought, lovely from her untidy bush to her small breasts and small waist. She looked almost fragile – like porcelain, no – that skin must have been porcelain – delicate and unblemished, save for a mole near her bosom. She appeared in every way perfect.

He surreptitiously followed her to the bathroom, choosing to remain at the door where he could be master of all that he surveyed. Severus knew he should leave if he wanted to contain himself, but his eyes were involuntarily drawn to her. Suddenly, he was filled with a desire to protect this petite delicate creature. She apparently liked her water hot, he noted, as steam rose around him. Leaning at the bathroom's doorway, he greedily watched her bathing ritual. Her tensions seemed to ease as the water claimed her. He smirked at the sight of her with her left leg outstretched, her toes pointed. "So her grace is acquired; Miss Granger had taken dance lessons," he mused at the performance, as his eyes followed her gentle deliberate extension of her arm to the right for her shampoo. Sniffing slightly, he deduced that it was white nettle. Apparently she hadn't poured enough onto her palm, for she was groping blindly for the bottle again. She was reluctant to open her eyes, as the shampoo suds had slid into that region. He contemplated a charm to extricate the suds but changed his mind. Severus smirked to hear her swear and he promptly pointed his finger at the bottle so as to lead it to her hand. He found it fascinating that she exercised whilst bathing – a novel way of reliving the ways of the Spartans. If nude exercising looked anything like that, Severus would have been a time-travelling voyeur. Given the present circumstances, however, it was unnecessary for he bore witness to a programme that was for his sole pleasure. "Goddess," his mind said when Hermione lapped the water all over herself. "Nymph," he thought when she lathered herself in a caressing manner. "Perfect," he whispered, as she drained the lather from her body. "Divine," he mouthed to himself when she turned abruptly away from the shower to wash the suds out of her hair.

There she was, almost impossibly beautiful under the shower. Her eyes closed and her visage no longer heavy with the strains of the day. Her wet tendrils clinging closely to her body, and back. A heavy lock fell forward to her front, wrapping itself along her right breast and waist. In fact, although she looked composed, she appeared anything but neat. Still, Severus was not bothered by her untameable hair or the unruly curls of her bush. He saw her as a deity, like Diana, no – a vulnerable goddess, who enjoyed the feel of water on her skin. Soon, all too soon, she reached to turn off the shower spigot. As she flicked aside the disobedient lock clinging to her front, Severus heard her hum. She had a most mesmerising bath ritual, he thought, watching her towel herself. "I really should wait for her in the library," he scolded himself when he caught sight of her wrapping her hair in the towel.

Deciding that removing his presence was expedient, Severus made his way to his library. A few minutes later when he had calmed the reactions of his ethereal body, she entered the room in a navy blue bathroom still humming. "Good evening, Miss Granger," he drawled silkily from the shadows near her chaise lounge. Instead of the smooth retort he anticipated, Severus was greeted by a half-muted scream.

Footnotes:

Forgive me if the references to Plato are dreary; they are important to the plot two chapters down. I have quoted from Plato's Republic. Republic V refers to Book V of the text. I have excluded the stephanus numbers from the actual quotes. If any of you wish to read it, I recommend the Allan Bloom translation.

The 'Thirty Tyrants' were a group of despotic men who ruled Athens after its defeat by Sparta in the Peloponnesian War