Chapter 14 - Necessitation

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

Beyond Time and Space

Chapter 14 – Necessitation

That small gallant gesture with Severus gave Hermione considerable pleasure. It was one of the agreeable resolutions of the day, which she walked about the castle the next morning to enjoy. She was extremely glad that they had come to so good an understanding over the procedure. The impertinence of Remus Lupin's doubts as well as the woman's injunctions, which for a few moments threatened to ruin the rest of her day, had been the occasion of some of its highest satisfactions; and she looked forward to another successful result – the restoration of Severus Snape to life. On the spectre's part, he too was pleased with the progression of their state of affairs; he only wanted her to return from her walk before breaking the news to the headmaster. As if summoned, the lady in questioned fortuitously returned, her riding crop neatly tucked under her arm, her hair still neat in its chignon and her cheeks flushed with exercise. She was truly a beauteous sight to behold.

"Don't change," he said suddenly, as she sat down for breakfast.

"Sorry?" she asked with a slight smirk at the figure opposite her. She inclined her head to one side unsure whether she had indeed misheard him.

"Stay the way you are," he muttered, filling Crookshanks' bowl. "I like your hair this way," he continued lamely.

"Feeling guilty that you'll have to throw me out when it's over?" she teased, buttering her toast carefully.

He grunted in a non-committal manner so as to mute a chuckle. "Are you jeering me?"

"It's normal to feel guilty, did not you teach me that eros leads to responsibility?" she said seriously, putting down her toast and staring into his disinterested gaze. "Besides, I have already made the necessary arrangements, you needn't worry."

He turned to stare at Crookshanks who rubbed against his chair. "You are free to use the library here," he murmured. "I can set the wards to recognise you."

"You'll rescind your offer," she charged quietly with an arch look before she nibbled on her toast.

"No," he answered firmly with a self-assured smirk.

After a long pause, she put down her toast and withdrew her other hand from the table just as Severus opened his right palm on the arm rest of chair. The importance of that unlikely gesture not lost on her, she decided to change the topic. "You've gone through my notes, Professor Snape, do you think them plausible?"

He traced a long tapered finger on his lips. "They are acceptable."

She nibbled on her toast. "Only that?"

"It is the only way," he acknowledged, his voice bitter and his tone, scathing.

Harrumphing indignantly, Hermione detailed the process and her research findings to him once again.

In response, Severus violently closed his eyes as if hurt by the onslaught of information. "Enough!" he hissed with a scowl, "Shut that mouth before I fill it for you!"

Her eyes twinkled mischievously despite her impassive expression. "How will the redoubtable Severus Xenophon Snape do that?"

He strode over to her and pressed his icy ethereal lips to hers, his icy tongue teasing them open. When the shock left her and he felt her responding in kind, he pulled back, suddenly frightened. What had he done! It had almost felt as if he was alive again; he had felt warm and safe just by touching her lips. It was irrational! Blasted neediness, he thought as he avoided her disappointed look. "Like that, Professor Granger," he whispered in a low purr.

She shivered silently and lowered her eyes while gingerly rubbing her arms. Who would have thought that ghostly Potions Master was capable of extemporaneous displays like that? She rearranged her face and hoped she was not blushing. "You are formidable, aren't you?" she laughed nervously in a shaky voice. "Professor Snape, that wasn't necessary."

He repeated his previous action, drawing it out for a few seconds longer before scowling at her, "Ah, but I wanted to. It's Severus." He then returned nonchalantly to his seat.

Hermione tried to sip her tea but only succeeded on choking. "What?" she finally gasped, looking at him quizzically, uncertain that she had indeed heard him.

"I was christened Severus, use it sparingly," he hissed, hiding behind the Daily Prophet that he was ostensibly reading.

"What am to make of it?" she asked, completely bewildered.

"Whatever you choose," he said with exasperation at her beleaguered look and her lack of subtlety. "I'm off to see the Headmaster," he announced, folding the newspaper and putting it aside. "I'll place an order with the house elves for your dinner."

Drifting out of their quarters to the dungeons proper, he heard her mutter something to the effect of 'silly overbearing man'. Those words stung his ego as they resounded in his mind and he leisurely made his way to Dumbledore's office in a temper. Perhaps he was a little too high-handed. He had not even consulted her as to her preferences – what if she did not feel like eating Moroccan today? He wondered in horror. No, he was acquainted with her enough to know she had no compulsion in abusing him to her face. She had fought with him and quarrelled with him on everything else. She had never made her displeasure at his choice of cuisine felt. He believed it would be a nice surprise for her considering how he caught her reading the Moroccan recipe book her mother had sent.

"Ooh! Dead Potions Masters from zero to hero!" cackled an ectoplasmic entity blocking his path.

"Move aside, Peeves, I am not in a mood to humour anyone!" snarled Severus, folding his arms stiffly.

The poltergeist merely stuck out his tongue. "Nasty Potions Master doesn't know I am not anyone! Why the hurry, hurry? Time has stopped for you."

Severus's lips twitched into a knowingly intelligible smirk; a smirk that ought to strike fear in Peeves if he had a heart, for students and colleagues knew that Severus's intelligible smirks only connoted his condescension at knowing something that one did not. Peeves, however, traditionally unaware of anyone's changes in looks continued to jeer at the Potions Master by sticking out his tongue once again.

"Tell me, Peeves," said Severus disinterestedly, as he caught the latter's tongue between his thumb and index finger. "Do you know anything of human nature at all?" He narrowed his eyes maliciously, pulling Peeves' tongue sharply without releasing it.

Peeves flailed his appendages frantically, uttering a muffled apology.

"See that you remember that," sneered Severus with feigned boredom, as he released the poltergeist's tongue.

Peeves shot him a long hard stare, massaging his sore tongue. "The old man's been happily scheming. If you need me to get back at him, hunt me down, ickle Snape," cackled the poltergeist as he merrily bounced away.

Putting down Peeves' words to utter lunacy, Severus made his way to the Headmaster's office. As he had correctly surmised, Dumbledore was already waiting for him.

"You have good news to report, I presume?" chuckled the older wizard.

"Almost, Headmaster," replied the spectre, pacing up and down the office.

"Is the most rapacious and most violent of my staff expressing reservation?" laughed Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling.

Severus was morally indignant and affronted by the description of his character. "If you must know - Professor Granger may have very well found a method to restore me to what is mine," he said sharply

"Ah yes, I heard from Remus," nodded the Headmaster, gesturing for his prodigal son to sit.

Severus declined by pointedly persisting in his nervous pacing. "What has Lupin told you?" he snarled, his voice low and dangerously silkily.

Dumbledore quickly assembled his face in mild indulgence, his eyes still twinkling knowingly.

"You will do well to disregard his delusions," the spectre in black began, as Dumbledore carefully examined the contents of his bag of sweets. "He wrongfully prides himself for his non-existent observational powers. He has agreed to aid her in charming the amulet, has he not?"

Still shaking the open bag of sweets as if searching for the last of a favourite confection, the Headmaster raised his head feigning alarm, "What?" He stared at the bleary image above his half moon spectacles. "You look more than a little unfocused."

Severus responded by muttering an incantation that pushed the Headmaster's spectacles up his crooked nose bridge, earning him a brilliant smile from the latter.

Dumbledore cocked his head to one side, slowly appraising the spectre. "You still looked unfocused, flustered almost. No matter, I must be in need of new glasses," the Headmaster said with a laugh before turning gravely to Severus. "What do you hope to achieve by returning, my boy?"

"Fulfil the terms of my contract, naturally," answered Severus, keeping his temper firmly in check. He silently cursed the older wizard's occlumency abilities that prevented him from uncovering the truth behind his remarks. The old fool was truly a wheel within a wheel. Unable to penetrate his employer's mind, he settled for an upsetting well-placed glare and furrowed brow look.

"Nothing more?" asked Dumbledore, chewing lightly on a sweet.

"Be plain with me, Headmaster!" The spectre raised his voice an octave, folding his arms defensively on his chest.

Dumbledore sighed disapprovingly, "You should learn to have time to rest; you have too much rigidity in your habits."

"Habits that will continue," he replied icily, drumming his fingers impatiently on his arms. "Socrates claimed that his self-control ensured his freedom from unnecessary obligation to others. I find that it is worthily applied to my existence."

"True, my boy, but the wise old wizard also said that the greatest profit would be the gain of a good friend," reminded Dumbledore, shaking his long finger at Severus.

"None of those friends changed their beliefs in themselves. Socrates died for the preservation of political philosophy within the city," said Severus lowly in a carefully modulated voice as he finally seated himself. "And that is how I will end my days – drinking hemlock and sacrificing myself to my art."

"If that's the case, why ask Hermione to restore you to life?"

He answered carelessly, "She seems keen to help; I think it would be cruel to deprive her of more unnecessary extra-curricular work."

Dumbledore rolled his eyes in exasperation. When will the Potions Master see himself for what he really was – a man of great feeling and deep thought! "She wants to attempt the resurrection on Saturday or so I've heard," said Dumbledore changing the subject, as he was uncertain as to how to broach the issue of Hermione to the spectre.

"Indeed, she claims the stars will be aligned," he snorted, masking his pride at his protégé's exact calculations.

Dumbledore chuckled at Severus's glittering eyes. "They are not essential to the process," reminded the Headmaster, leaning back into his chair.

"I know, but she feels certain that it will enhance the procedure," he stated.

The older wizard sighed, "What will happen to Hermione at the end of it?"

"What do you mean? The insufferable woman will remain as she is. I do not converse with all who seek the benefit of my conversation!" declared the Potions Master in a mock drawl, tracing his lips.

"Severus, Severus," sighed Dumbledore, rising to pat his companion's shoulders. "You and Hermione have been at cross purposes for the past year and a half since her graduation. Can't you see that the lady and you work well together?"

"She is an acceptable assistant," he begrudgingly confessed. He knew that Hermione worked so effectively and methodologically that he was able to spend more time on his personal research. However, Severus would rather sit through detention with a room full of Harry Potters than admit to the efficacy of having her around. He added, "I will make amends to her if that's what you mean. I will be civil to her."

"Only civil? You're barely even civil to me sometimes, my boy," chuckled Dumbledore firmly grasping Severus's shoulders.

The spectre scowled. He did not enjoy being interrogated nor did he enjoy justifying his actions to anyone but himself. "It does not imply I do not care."

"Exactly!" exclaimed Dumbledore, clapping his hands once. "One acquires good friends by conversing about virtue and encouraging the desire for it."

"I have tried to emulate Socrates in this respect without success. My notion of virtue differs from others'. Knowledge is the only virtue worth seeking," Severus drawled quietly, still tracing his lips.

"If you speak to Hermione concisely," cried the exasperated Headmaster. "You'll see that she shares your singular pursuit of virtue as you see it. You must see that just as the discipline of the body is necessary to the care of the soul, good friends are similarly necessary as partners in the quest for virtue. That being the case, the care of the soul, you soul, would require the cultivation of friendship and partnership. If you were not obsessed in your misplaced righteousness, you would see, for all your admiration of Socrates, that those of his companions who accepted what he himself approved would always be good friends both to him and to one another. The wizard is your ancestor, Severus – you should know his teachings better than I do! You would have seen, if you shared his perspicacity, that Hermione accepts and shares the things you approve of!"

"You of all people, Headmaster would know that my love for the beautiful and noble creations have resulted in my mistakes! I will not make another!" Severus lashed out.

"Speak to her before you decide; she deserves to know. Why begrudge yourself happiness?" reasoned the older wizard.

The spectre spat vehemently, "The love of one's own causes destruction!"

Dumbledore sighed. "She is not your own – she is your intellectual partner in virtue! You're a sensible sort, my boy – for your own sake, speak to her before Saturday and get rid of your sobering fears!"

"Have you heard of ten en twi panti phronēsin?" questioned Severus archly.

"Which instructs you to use your soul to liberate your mind from any anxiety over the future!"

"Why are you doing this to me?" snarled Severus, as dark clouds gathered at his brow.

"All suitors need encouragement!" chuckled Dumbledore.

"In you bid to feel...involved...you have overstepped your bounds, Headmaster!" cautioned Severus in a clipped tone as he clenched his fists into tight white balls of controlled annoyance at the latter's twinkling eyes. "Till, Saturday then, Professor Dumbledore."

He bowed and departed still fuming with his employer's presumption. Smirking quietly to himself, he decided to look up an old thorn in his flesh. He had a promise to reclaim. "Oh yes, vengeance will be sweet!" Severus sneered as he drifted into the shadows.

Footnotes:

The gallant gesture referred to at the beginning of the chapter recalls what Severus did at the end of the previous chapter, viz., he offered Hermione his arm. He willingly did so, without her asking. That is gallantry, at least, in my books.

Eros, in this context, is the pursuit of beautiful things such as virtue and honour. Eros has at least 5 definitions. I have settled for the Platonic definition as seen in the Symposium

My classical Greek is still very shaky, so forgive me if this glossary is lacking:

"Ten en twi panti phronēsin" can be taken to mean "prudence in all things".

Ideas from Severus's conversation with Dumbledore are based on Xenophon's Memorabilia and Cyropaedia. Some snatches are also from Plato's Republic and The Laws.

In response to some emails, permit me to say something here:

My writing draws from various literary and artistic traditions. There are many implied meanings in my characters' speeches. Take Dumbledore's comment on Severus being unfocused. It is a double entendre.

Those familiar with art history and paintings of the aristocracy in the 18th century will be aware of the implied meaning of an open palm facing outwards towards the viewer. It should denote an open temperament and a welcoming personality. Severus, however, is anything but that. I leave it to you to decide why I made him display his right hand in that manner.