Chapter 8 - Revelation

Beyond Time and Space

Chapter 8 - Revelation

"I want an essay on the properties of moonstone in potions, due Friday! Pound it, Miss Watson; you have a mortar and pestle. Unless you want to pound the remnants of your brain with it?" Severus's silky voice rumbled in the potions classroom. Hermione suppressed a chuckle as she prepared her Arithmancy lesson in his office. She could hear every single thing occurring in the adjoining room and she was tickled. Somehow, it did not signify any longer that she no longer taught Potions. She still would receive two salaries, for she officially held the Potions and Arithmancy chairs. At least, Severus was decent enough to let her use his office. He had even condescended to share their chambers. Well, what else could she call it? She could call herself a tenant who lived in his library, but it was not entirely fitting. The apartments in the dungeons were assigned to her after all. She shook her head to clear her mind of the faintly confusing thought.

In the last few days, he had come to tolerate her presence as a necessary evil. He had not spoken to her, nevertheless, she knew he had not been able to sleep or experience hunger. He had not realised that he managed to gain entrance to his library even though she had locked and warded the doors. Hermione put down her quill and gathered her books, listening to Severus's thundering next door. He's still the same, she thought with a wry smile. He did not care that he kept her awake most of the night with his nightly reading and muttered oaths. Hermione realised that she had to help him grasp what he had become so that he could move on. Rising from the desk, she hugged her books close to herself and opened the office's door to the Potions classroom at the exact same moment he dismissed the fourth year students.

"Will you walk me to my classroom, Professor Snape?" Hermione asked, keeping her eye on the rambling students who scrambled to depart. Many of them looked horrified that she had emerged from his private office.

"You're not due for class for another two hours. Are you going to make another eulogy to commemorate my supposed passing? What is this about, Miss...Professor Granger?" he growled, reluctantly acknowledging her as a colleague. He had enough common civility in him to give her credit as it was due. After all, she was a witch famed for her intelligence.

"You...Oh, come on, please, walk with me," she said adamantly, without appearing to press her point.

"If it will shut you up," he complied, briskly passing her. "Well?"

Hermione smirked at him whilst he reset the wards to the rooms. "Let me put my things in the Arithmancy room first, then, I'll lay my claim on you."

"You will do no such thing, ridiculous chit!" With a mild flick of his wrist, he gestured for her walk before him.

"Is that gallantry, Professor Snape?" she teased sardonically, waltzing ahead.

"Basic courtesy, Professor Granger," he replied as he materialised to her left. "You left me to my own devices for nearly seventy-two hours. That merits some degree of civility."

"Are you well rested?" she asked, simultaneously scowling at fleeing students. She laughed inwardly at how silly the students were – flying from the dungeons' inhabitants.

"Your snoring kept me awake," he lied. "I can hear it in my room. That blasted Meistersinger overture can drive a man to distraction!" He hoped that she did not know he had often crept to his library during her office hours to consult the books on the source of his gnawing feeling of displacement.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, lowering her eyes demurely and choking back a chuckle. She flashed him an intelligible look as she recalled the previous night. Severus had slipped to the library and opened her Wagner music book whilst he read.

"You generally sleep well, I presume," he asked, deliberately allowing her to precede him so that he could watch her form for a few minutes.

She decided to toe the line by baiting him. "Have you tried the Dreamless Sleep Draught?" She had caught him off-guard at that moment because she suddenly spun around to face him. However, his mental preparation for a verbal confrontation was ill founded, she had merely wanted to use her back to push the heavy doors of the Arithmancy classroom open.

"Do you want your books to fall on your feet, or shall I cast a levitation spell for you?" he asked belatedly, scowling at his lack of manners.

"As you can see," she said, after putting her books on the desk, "I've already done so." Brandishing her crop, she swished it dramatically through the air, closing the curtains. This drew a half smirk from Severus. "Shall we go riding in the evening if the weather holds?" she asked, baiting him once more.

"I have never been one for equestrian sports – the sun and I are not friends. If it rains, perhaps," he answered lowly before adding in a silky purr, "What is the purpose of this conversation, Professor Granger?"

"Walk with me and you'll find out," she said pocketing her crop and shooing him out of the room so that she could set her wards. "The third floor has been renovated lately. It is now an excellent vantage point for spying on recalcitrant students."

"I thought you protected the dunderheads," he sneered.

She glared at him in retaliation. "In the same way you did us."

"Is that not Filch's responsibility?"

"Sir, you of all people should be aware of pleasure in pain."

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued, as they ascended the stairs. "In what sense, Professor Granger?"

"To soothe our own, sir. Threatening students soothes our pain; a method of catharsis, as it were."

"I'm impressed you discovered this," he hissed as he strode into the first room which caught his attention on the third floor.

"This is not what I want you to..." Hermione stopped when she saw the Mirror of Erised slowly revolving into view. Severus stood before it, evidently flabbergasted by what he saw. "We're not supposed to be here," she sharply announced, clapping her hands for emphasis as she beckoned him to return to her side. He merely stood in front of the mirror, violently becoming paler. She watched his eyes glaze over in pain and something else that she could not place.

"Professor Snape," she said, moving towards him before looking into the mirror herself. Although she thought she heard him utter 'Mother', she attributed the unlikely sentiment it to her over-active imagination.

"What do you see?" he asked quietly, staggering away spasmodically as if stupefied by the sight.

"Myself before the war," she replied crisply, "And you?"

"I cannot say," he whispered, his hands violently trembling.

"Cannot or will not?" cried Hermione as she brusquely turned around, leading him out of the room.

"It is of no concern to you, Professor Granger," he snarled, his eyes dangerously narrowing as he recoiled from her touch.

"This way, Professor Snape," she instructed, withdrawing her hand with as cold an expression as she could muster. She could feel the misty form. Why? How? Did he have that much control over his surroundings and his otherworldly self? She was intrigued. "Here we are, sir, mind your step."

Severus looked around the semi-dark room, focusing his eyes on the dimly lit candles and long wooden boxes. "Why have you brought me here?" he demanded, snapping his head aggressively at her direction.

"Why have you followed me?" she responded tiredly as she glided towards the rosewood box.

"You asked me to escort you, not without force, I might add!" he accused, approaching her slowly. As he passed Moody, Sybil Trelawney, Diotima Vector, Arabella Figg and Mundungus Fletcher, the candles by their sides flickered and extinguished one by one.

"Did I coerce you?" she retorted, waving a black tulip that she had just conjured violently before her.

"YOU LED ME HERE ON FALSE PRETENCES! Haven't I seen enough of death!" he shouted, slowly approaching her as he watched her drop the black tulip gently into the rosewood coffin.

Lightly brushing away something in the coffin, she cried, "When is too much enough, Professor Snape? You, of all people, should know that one is best punished for one's virtues."

"I do not know what preposterous object is at the heart of this, nor do I want to know! Release me this instant!" he screeched in his purring dulcet voice.

"I have no power over you. I am here and you are there," she explained impatiently, as she folded her arms.

"You do not understand, Professor Granger! I will reveal nothing to you!" he bellowed, approaching the rosewood coffin but not daring to look into it.

She snorted indignantly, evidently suppressing the urge to hex him and roll her eyes. "We are well met then. We both say nothing: you because you reveal nought and I, because I conceal nought. At least, look in and tell me what you see."

Severus peered in the coffin and stumbled forward; his hands shaking with rage as he lifted his ghostly face to hers, "What sorcery is this?" he asked, his face ashen with the realisation that he had seen his corpse. His disbelief soon turned ugly when the veracity of the matter sank in. It was indeed himself; it was not a mere likeness. However, he was unable to compose himself immediately. He reacted in the only way he knew how – he lashed out at her with all manner of vituperative accusations. "You did this! The mirror, the wax effigy! You did this! Insolent girl! How dare you! Viper!"

Facing him with her full petite height, she declared stoutly, "I did nothing! It seems we are at cross-purposes, sir. The high spirits of kindness may look like malice."

"I WILL NOT stand for this!" he shouted, enraged by her forced calm. He raised his ghostly wand at her and proceeded to enunciate clearly, "Legilimens."

Hermione made no attempt to stop him. She gave him unfettered access to her mind and memories. The flood of images caught Severus unawares as they inundated him. He saw himself at the final battle; the struggles to recoup their losses; the insane methods deployed to save the lives of the ailing, Harry's half-coherent stuttering, Ron's madness and himself slipping away from life. When it was all over, Severus stumbled backwards aghast, glowering at Hermione in disbelief. As a result of the recent intrusion of her mind, she was likewise privy to some of his thoughts. She too recoiled in shock when she felt his pain, anger and confusion. She realised that she had seen a heavily veiled woman with a familiar voice beckoning to Severus in the Mirror of Erised. He had seen himself as he was now – a pale spectre, clad in black, translucent and desolate. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost. She shook her head to clear that though – how could she feel pity for him? Pity was cruel, especially when the person in question would rather die than have someone pity him. What a neat paradox, she thought, Severus Snape is dead and there she was actually feeling almost sorry for him.

After staring at each other with a myriad of unspoken emotions and thoughts between them, Hermione finally spoke when her breathing slowed. "We know now, don't we, Professor Snape?"

"Indeed," he whispered quietly, trying to steady his voice. "It must have been a terrible expression for you to watch your friends...and for what you did to help" He paused shortly before continuing in a barely audible tone, "Thank you."

She looked at him placidly, in a bid to encourage his dangerous serenity to return. "It doesn't matter; pain tells us we're human."

"But, ah!" he snarled, regaining some of his normal pallor though his hands were still shaking. "Terrible experiences pose a riddle whether a person who has them is not terrible."

"I know you're not," she offered kindly, extending her limp hand to him, her palm facing the ceiling.

"If we train our conscience, it kisses us while it hurts us," he spat, examining her hand with feigned indifference before he condescended to place the barest tips of his fingers on hers. She shivered slightly at the sensation. "Not too cold?" he mocked, his lips curling in self-satisfaction. "I'm always like this, now more than usual."

She smirked wearily, closing her fingers lightly on his, "We must talk; now that you know, we have much to discuss."