Strangers

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Chapter 5 – Strangers

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“Severus”

“I’m not going to lie, Steven, I don’t understand why you and Hermione dislike each other so much,” Sheryl tells me as I lie on her couch, repeatedly tossing a plush football up into the air and catching it.

“I was not her favorite teacher and she was not my favorite student,” I say, putting the relationship between Hermione and myself in the simplest of terms.

“Yes, I noticed that, but surely something must have happened that provoked such a… strong dislike toward each other.”

I close my eyes and exhale slowly. “You and I both know that I am not a pleasant man to be around.”

Sheryl hesitates for a second, then starts to deny any feelings of the sort, “Now I wouldn’t say that you’re unpleasant. I would say you’re…authoritative.” I scoff at this.

“You think I’m a bastard, especially after last night.”

Sheryl offers a small smile at this and looks down at her feet for a few seconds. “I didn’t like you very much when we first met, Steven, but you’ve progressed a great deal these past few months. When I first met you, you were a miserable wreck and unwilling to talk to me at all.”

I sit up and cast my eyes downward. “My temper and disposition have improved slightly, but the nightmares are still there,” I whisper dolefully.

“Still every night?” Sheryl asks sympathetically.

I nod. “But last night— last night was different,” I say, my brow crinkled.

“Tell me about it,” says Sheryl as she crosses one leg over the other and leans back in her chair.

“It’s still the same scene, I mean I’m still standing on the ledge… It’s just… usually she just attempts to push me and we struggle for a bit… but last night, last night she looked at me with those eyes…”

“Did she speak to you at all?” asks Sheryl, her hand stroking her chin.

“She— she told me to jump,” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“And what did you do?” asks Sheryl, a curious expression on her face.

“Nothing,” I say.

Sheryl takes off her glasses, a gesture that means she’s ready to talk business. “Perhaps that’s your problem,” she says.

“I’m sorry?”

“Maybe you should listen to her.” Sheryl shifts in her seat. “Did you ever think that maybe she’s not there to haunt you? That it’s possible she’s trying to help you? I think you should listen to her and take the plunge.”

I look at her as if she’s the one who needs help. “Oh please, it’s only a dream, right?” She slaps my knee as she stands up. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

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“Hermione”

I must be crazy for doing this; Professor Snape does nothing but belittle and offend me every time I’m in his presence. He does not deserve my sympathy, yet here I am standing outside Sherry’s office door.

Sherry tells me to come in after I work up the courage to knock. I take a deep breath before stating the purpose of my visit. “IndPierce’sadrs.” There, I said it.

Sherry blinks, clearly not comprehending a word I just said. “I-I need Steven Pierce’s address,” I say again, as slowly and clearly as possible given the current situation.

Sherry’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “Hermione, I know you don’t like the guy, but I can’t give you his address just so you can go vandalize his apartment or burn it down or something equally as sinister,” she says warningly.

“Oh, hold your tongue,” I say. Hmph, honestly. “I’m not going to do anything to his apartment.”

“Oh, what do you need it for then?” she asks curiously.

“I feel like I owe him an apology,” I say forlornly.

“I asked him earlier about why you guys act the way you do toward each other. He wouldn’t give me a proper answer,” says Sherry.

“It’s a long story,” I say, but this is a lie. The story really isn’t that long at all; he was a bastard, I was a know-it-all, we hated each other.

Sherry starts to dig in her desk for a pad of paper. “Technically, I’m not supposed to give out any of my clients’ personal information. Since it’s you, however, and because it’s for a good cause, I’ll give it to you. Give me a second, I’ll write it down.”

“You know you’re a lifesaver, right, Sherr?”

“I am neither round nor fruity,” Sherry says dryly. I roll my eyes. "So how's it going at home? How are Ron and the kids?" she asks, completely switching topics.

"Oh, Sherry, I feel so bad," I tell her as I lay my face in my hands.

"What happened? Maybe I can help?"

"Me and Ron tried again last night," I say, my voice muffled by my hands.

"Tried as in 'tried to be intimate'?" asks Sherry. I nod.

"I can't do it, Sherr. I can't make love to my husband." I pull my hair in frustration.

"Perhaps, there is no love to be made," Sherry suggests, treading carefully so that she doesn't upset me.

We both know she's right.

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“Severus”

I am dozing off on the sofa when my wards alert me to another’s presence outside my door. My first instinct is to go for my wand, but I haven’t pointed my wand at another being in almost twenty years. Instead I pick up the closest Muggle object heavy enough to do any damage as a weapon – a golf club. I can’t risk any Ministry officials coming to find me after all these years.

I stand off to the side of the door, back to the wall, as the footsteps come closer. I hear a loud pounding followed by a successive number of rings on the doorbell. As quietly as I can, I step forward toward the keyhole and look through it.

Outside is none other than Hermione Granger.

Bugger.

I open the door reluctantly and am almost hit in the chest by Granger’s fist, which is still in knocking position. Granger’s eyes widen and she immediately lowers her fist.

“You!” I say, mocking her accusing tone from yesterday afternoon.

“Me,” she says, her curls bobbing up and down as she nods her head. “Can we talk?”

I pause for a second before extending my arm to open the door further. Granger quietly slips under my arm and into my apartment. Unknowingly, she has also slipped into my life.