Fic: Brave New World (28/28): Harry Potter
Title: Brave New World
Author:
patriciatepes
Artist:
twisted_slinky
Fandom: Harry Potter
Chapter: Prev | Next
Rating/Contents: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters. Making no money here, as they all still belong to their prospective owners.
Summary: Partially DH compliant, most AU. Voldemort arrived at Malfoy Manor quicker than expected, and like that, the war was over. Now, Hermione is Snape's "assigned companion," and as determined as ever to stop Voldemort and save her friends. But that's hard to do in Voldemort's new world…
Chapter Twenty-Eight: At Storm's End
Potter's funeral was quaint, despite its large number of attendees. There were no lavish decorations, or overly garish flowers. There were a lot of lilies, but that was to be expected. They buried the boy next to his parents, in Godric's Hollow, with a large tombstone declaring his name, birthdate, deathdate, and a quote from Beedle the Bard's "Tale of the Three Brothers."
He met Death as an Old Friend.
It was a fitting inscription, Snape supposed, but it was not the one he perhaps would have chosen. It was bloody morbid, and Hermione confided in him that she shared this opinion. During the remaining summer, they worked together-all of the survivors-to rebuild the Ministry. Kingsly Shacklebolt had been elected Minister for Magic, a wise choice. Snape had been put on trial, as he had expected-well, truth be told, he had not expected to survive, but given that he did, this was as he expected. He was found not guilty on all charges, on account of his service to Dumbledore-proven through a combination of his own memories, veritaserum, and Hermione and the other resistance members vouching for him. While the other surviving Death Eaters were sent away to Azkaban-which had quickly implemented a new way to keep prisoners, one without Dementors-only Draco Malfoy was acquitted as well, on account that he delivered the deathblow to Voldemort. Most felt that that was a fair trade.
The school year had begun anew. Snape had stepped down from his ill-gotten position as Headmaster, returning happily to the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. The students who had attended Hogwarts as their seventh year during the rule of Voldemort were given an option of returning, or of being considered graduates. Neville, Hermione, and a handful of others in their year returned. Ron Weasley, unsurprisingly, had not.
It turned out that Hermione had been serious in her declaration that she wanted to continue to be with Snape. It shocked him throughout no end, but he was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He enjoyed her company, her kisses, her fiery nature. He understood her, as well, given what she had experienced, coupled with his own past. They had suspended the most intimate part of their relationship, as talked about, during the school year. They spoke on rare occasions, when they dared snatch a few private moments for themselves. They didn't kiss or touch for fear of the consequences. And it was a miracle that no consequences ever seemed to come, given that most of those who returned with Hermione-even Ginny Weasley, after the birth of her child-knew something of their relationship during the time of Voldemort's rule. They had guessed it, and Snape had to rethink his opinion on almost all of her friends. Perhaps they were not as dense as he once thought them to be.
The nights were cold and lonely in his dungeon quarters. He had come to miss her, even though the intimacy they had shared had been brief. He couldn't bloody wait until summer. He used to enjoy the solitude of reading quietly in his chambers of Hogwarts, but now he found that he missed her just sitting nearby, reading herself. He had gotten quite used to her company, indeed.
A few months into the school year, and they had both been good. They kept to their not-touching relationship, trying to keep it a secret from those-the other professors, Headmistress McGonagall-who did not know. But a knock at Snape's chamber door-one that was carefully hidden and only a precious few knew about-roused him out of his book.
He opened the door, more than a little surprised to find Hermione on the other side. He blinked at her.
"You're not supposed to be here, Miss Granger," he stated simply.
"Nice to see you too, Severus. May I come in?" she retorted.
He stepped aside, gesturing to the settee behind him. "Perhaps being so informal isn't such a good idea, Miss Granger."
He closed the door behind him, and, for good measure, placed a Silencing Charm upon it. No need for any passersby to start any rumors. Hermione took the proffered seat, smiling softly.
"We're alone. I think we can be informal if we're well and truly alone."
She drifted off a bit as she said "alone" the second time, her gaze a little unfocused somewhere past his being. He moved to sit beside her.
"What's wrong?"
She was already sniffling. Merlin, he was no good with a crying woman. He wished he was, wished it with all his being. But he always felt so bloody awful and awkward, as if their crying was always, without question, his fault.
"Hermione?" he urged softly.
Holding back tears with a great sniff, she smiled. "See? That's better. It feels… better."
He placed a hand on her shoulder, bending to look her more fully in the eye. He repeated his question. "What's wrong?"
She shook her head. "Nothing, really. I just… I just needed someone to talk to. Someone who would understand."
He leaned back, not wanting to rush her. He understood this moment, now. He had felt it himself, several times. Potter had been well and gone for months… but she had not allowed herself to mourn, not fully. She had always had a crowd, someone for whom the tears were more for their benefit than for her own. He understood completely.
"Take your time, dear."
She laughed a little, and he raised a brow. "What?"
"You… calling me a pet name. Never thought we'd live to see that day, did we?"
He crossed his arms, a rare smile spreading his lips. "Yes, well, I never thought I'd live to see that day that I slept with the most annoying Gryffindor to ever step foot in the school… several times. But, here we are."
"Are you saying you regret this relationship?" she asked.
There was humor in her voice, but his answer was full of nothing but the utmost solemnity.
"Never."
She smiled a bit softer now, her eyes cast downward. She clasped her hands, holding them between her knees, and it appeared as if she was lost in some great maze of thought. He sat there, quietly, patiently waiting for her to find her way out. Finally, without lifting her eyes, she said, "Do you think we made the right call?"
"About…?"
"About letting Harry make that decision. I mean, he was in a dark place. We still don't know everything they did to him, not even you know. I wonder… I wonder if it was the right thing."
She was crying, the tears falling silently to the floor. He scooted closer, wrapping a loose arm about her shoulders. She remained rigid, and Snape spent a few selfish moments damning his inability to comfort. When she caught her breath, she turned her shining eyes toward him.
"Severus… where do you think Harry is now?"
He sat back, a tad astonished. This certainly wasn't light conversation. But, again, he understood. He had asked himself the same question when Lily had been killed. And it was followed shortly by the "why me" survivor's guilt. Maybe he could help and nip that guilt in the bud all in one fell swoop. After all, it was killing him to see her like this, knowing he couldn't-within the confines of the school year-comfort her like he wanted to.
"This isn't something we could possibly ever know for sure within our lifetime. But… Harry willingly gave his life for those he loved. I have no doubt that he's at peace with that, wherever he's at. And I'm sure that he's at peace knowing that everyone he truly loved is safe and sound."
She was sniffling again. "So you don't thing… he hates me?"
Snape's heart broke, and it was like a glacier breaking down the middle. To hell with the rules. He swept her up in a tight hug, petting her head.
"Love, no… no. He doesn't hate you," he soothed.
She was sobbing into his chest, and he began to rock her, gently shushing her, more to calm her than to actually quiet her. After several minutes, when the hiccupping had finally slowed, she sat back. She looked away, and Snape heard a great sniff sound echo about his room. He tried to suppress the grin. She shook her head as she turned back to him.
"I'm sorry. It's just… I just got a letter from Ron, and it sort of… opened the floodgates, I suppose."
"A letter? What did it say?"
As far as Snape knew, Weasley was still married to the former Miss Parkinson. She had lost her father in the final battle against Voldemort, and no one had actually seen her since. Hermione sighed, trying to control her breathing.
"He was explaining to me about why he was going to… remain married to Pansy," she said. Quickly, she added, "Not that I care!"
Snape was no fool. He knew that Hermione had once had romantic feelings for Weasley, though Merlin knew why. A small part of him-the smallest, in terms of maturity-felt the familiar twang of jealousy at the mention. But he suppressed it, for her sake.
"Of course you care. He's your friend," he stated simply.
"It's more than that! Pansy hated Harry! It just feels like such a betrayal, a slap in the face! But… he explained himself. He told me about how Pansy parents were… He said that Pansy felt freed by her father's death. She feels badly for her mum, but… she's not in a great place with either of them. Pansy's actually with Ron at the Burrow, if you can imagine."
"I can't," Snape said dryly.
Hermione huffed out a laugh. At least now her eyes were devoid of tears. "Neither can I. I mean… I guess I'm happy for him. I mean, I'm happy for Ginny. Her daughter is adorable!"
He tried to smile, but he only felt half of his mouth pull upward. For a moment, he feared she might be angry at him. But she laughed, shaking her head.
"Sorry. I suppose we're not quite there in the relationship yet."
"There?"
"Yeah, where you do a better job pretending you care about my friends' lives."
There was no malice there, just more mirth. He laughed a little now.
"I'll work on it. Promise."
She nodded. "I know you will."
For a moment, they simply sat there, staring at one another. Then, with a breath, Hermione launched her body over at him, pressing her lips hard to his. He froze, just as he had on their first kiss, but recovered much more quickly. For a moment, his good senses left him, and he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her as deeply as he dared. Then, he thought he heard feet scuffling by outside his door. It brought their location, and their current teacher/student relationship, screaming back to the forefront of his mind. Slowly, he pushed her back.
"We can't do this. Not yet."
She was hovering over him, his face just inches from his. If she didn't move soon, Snape was sure all of his self-control was going to go straight out of the door. But, with a deep sigh, she settled back.
"I understand," she said, defeated.
She sat back, rubbing her face with both her hands. Finally, she stood. She smiled down at him.
"I should go. I guess I'm not making the wisest decisions right now. Thank you, for talking with me tonight. Good night, Severus."
She stepped past him, and a deep ache formed in Snape's gut. He reached out, catching her by the wrist. She turned back, eyes wide.
"Did you really mean it? I question it every day. Do you really want to be with me?" he asked.
She smiled, turning around and leaning over him. She pressed a long, full kiss on his lips, taking her time exploring his mouth. When she parted from him, she stayed close, locking eyes.
"Yes. And I'll show you just how much on Christmas break. Good night."
He smiled. "Good night, Hermione."
She let herself out, and Snape sat there for the longest moment. This coming holiday might be the best one he'd had in a very long time. What a strange new world this was to him.
Author:
patriciatepes
Artist:
twisted_slinky
Fandom: Harry Potter
Chapter: Prev | Next
Rating/Contents: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters. Making no money here, as they all still belong to their prospective owners.
Summary: Partially DH compliant, most AU. Voldemort arrived at Malfoy Manor quicker than expected, and like that, the war was over. Now, Hermione is Snape's "assigned companion," and as determined as ever to stop Voldemort and save her friends. But that's hard to do in Voldemort's new world…
Chapter Twenty-Eight: At Storm's End
Potter's funeral was quaint, despite its large number of attendees. There were no lavish decorations, or overly garish flowers. There were a lot of lilies, but that was to be expected. They buried the boy next to his parents, in Godric's Hollow, with a large tombstone declaring his name, birthdate, deathdate, and a quote from Beedle the Bard's "Tale of the Three Brothers."
He met Death as an Old Friend.
It was a fitting inscription, Snape supposed, but it was not the one he perhaps would have chosen. It was bloody morbid, and Hermione confided in him that she shared this opinion. During the remaining summer, they worked together-all of the survivors-to rebuild the Ministry. Kingsly Shacklebolt had been elected Minister for Magic, a wise choice. Snape had been put on trial, as he had expected-well, truth be told, he had not expected to survive, but given that he did, this was as he expected. He was found not guilty on all charges, on account of his service to Dumbledore-proven through a combination of his own memories, veritaserum, and Hermione and the other resistance members vouching for him. While the other surviving Death Eaters were sent away to Azkaban-which had quickly implemented a new way to keep prisoners, one without Dementors-only Draco Malfoy was acquitted as well, on account that he delivered the deathblow to Voldemort. Most felt that that was a fair trade.
The school year had begun anew. Snape had stepped down from his ill-gotten position as Headmaster, returning happily to the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. The students who had attended Hogwarts as their seventh year during the rule of Voldemort were given an option of returning, or of being considered graduates. Neville, Hermione, and a handful of others in their year returned. Ron Weasley, unsurprisingly, had not.
It turned out that Hermione had been serious in her declaration that she wanted to continue to be with Snape. It shocked him throughout no end, but he was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He enjoyed her company, her kisses, her fiery nature. He understood her, as well, given what she had experienced, coupled with his own past. They had suspended the most intimate part of their relationship, as talked about, during the school year. They spoke on rare occasions, when they dared snatch a few private moments for themselves. They didn't kiss or touch for fear of the consequences. And it was a miracle that no consequences ever seemed to come, given that most of those who returned with Hermione-even Ginny Weasley, after the birth of her child-knew something of their relationship during the time of Voldemort's rule. They had guessed it, and Snape had to rethink his opinion on almost all of her friends. Perhaps they were not as dense as he once thought them to be.
The nights were cold and lonely in his dungeon quarters. He had come to miss her, even though the intimacy they had shared had been brief. He couldn't bloody wait until summer. He used to enjoy the solitude of reading quietly in his chambers of Hogwarts, but now he found that he missed her just sitting nearby, reading herself. He had gotten quite used to her company, indeed.
A few months into the school year, and they had both been good. They kept to their not-touching relationship, trying to keep it a secret from those-the other professors, Headmistress McGonagall-who did not know. But a knock at Snape's chamber door-one that was carefully hidden and only a precious few knew about-roused him out of his book.
He opened the door, more than a little surprised to find Hermione on the other side. He blinked at her.
"You're not supposed to be here, Miss Granger," he stated simply.
"Nice to see you too, Severus. May I come in?" she retorted.
He stepped aside, gesturing to the settee behind him. "Perhaps being so informal isn't such a good idea, Miss Granger."
He closed the door behind him, and, for good measure, placed a Silencing Charm upon it. No need for any passersby to start any rumors. Hermione took the proffered seat, smiling softly.
"We're alone. I think we can be informal if we're well and truly alone."
She drifted off a bit as she said "alone" the second time, her gaze a little unfocused somewhere past his being. He moved to sit beside her.
"What's wrong?"
She was already sniffling. Merlin, he was no good with a crying woman. He wished he was, wished it with all his being. But he always felt so bloody awful and awkward, as if their crying was always, without question, his fault.
"Hermione?" he urged softly.
Holding back tears with a great sniff, she smiled. "See? That's better. It feels… better."
He placed a hand on her shoulder, bending to look her more fully in the eye. He repeated his question. "What's wrong?"
She shook her head. "Nothing, really. I just… I just needed someone to talk to. Someone who would understand."
He leaned back, not wanting to rush her. He understood this moment, now. He had felt it himself, several times. Potter had been well and gone for months… but she had not allowed herself to mourn, not fully. She had always had a crowd, someone for whom the tears were more for their benefit than for her own. He understood completely.
"Take your time, dear."
She laughed a little, and he raised a brow. "What?"
"You… calling me a pet name. Never thought we'd live to see that day, did we?"
He crossed his arms, a rare smile spreading his lips. "Yes, well, I never thought I'd live to see that day that I slept with the most annoying Gryffindor to ever step foot in the school… several times. But, here we are."
"Are you saying you regret this relationship?" she asked.
There was humor in her voice, but his answer was full of nothing but the utmost solemnity.
"Never."
She smiled a bit softer now, her eyes cast downward. She clasped her hands, holding them between her knees, and it appeared as if she was lost in some great maze of thought. He sat there, quietly, patiently waiting for her to find her way out. Finally, without lifting her eyes, she said, "Do you think we made the right call?"
"About…?"
"About letting Harry make that decision. I mean, he was in a dark place. We still don't know everything they did to him, not even you know. I wonder… I wonder if it was the right thing."
She was crying, the tears falling silently to the floor. He scooted closer, wrapping a loose arm about her shoulders. She remained rigid, and Snape spent a few selfish moments damning his inability to comfort. When she caught her breath, she turned her shining eyes toward him.
"Severus… where do you think Harry is now?"
He sat back, a tad astonished. This certainly wasn't light conversation. But, again, he understood. He had asked himself the same question when Lily had been killed. And it was followed shortly by the "why me" survivor's guilt. Maybe he could help and nip that guilt in the bud all in one fell swoop. After all, it was killing him to see her like this, knowing he couldn't-within the confines of the school year-comfort her like he wanted to.
"This isn't something we could possibly ever know for sure within our lifetime. But… Harry willingly gave his life for those he loved. I have no doubt that he's at peace with that, wherever he's at. And I'm sure that he's at peace knowing that everyone he truly loved is safe and sound."
She was sniffling again. "So you don't thing… he hates me?"
Snape's heart broke, and it was like a glacier breaking down the middle. To hell with the rules. He swept her up in a tight hug, petting her head.
"Love, no… no. He doesn't hate you," he soothed.
She was sobbing into his chest, and he began to rock her, gently shushing her, more to calm her than to actually quiet her. After several minutes, when the hiccupping had finally slowed, she sat back. She looked away, and Snape heard a great sniff sound echo about his room. He tried to suppress the grin. She shook her head as she turned back to him.
"I'm sorry. It's just… I just got a letter from Ron, and it sort of… opened the floodgates, I suppose."
"A letter? What did it say?"
As far as Snape knew, Weasley was still married to the former Miss Parkinson. She had lost her father in the final battle against Voldemort, and no one had actually seen her since. Hermione sighed, trying to control her breathing.
"He was explaining to me about why he was going to… remain married to Pansy," she said. Quickly, she added, "Not that I care!"
Snape was no fool. He knew that Hermione had once had romantic feelings for Weasley, though Merlin knew why. A small part of him-the smallest, in terms of maturity-felt the familiar twang of jealousy at the mention. But he suppressed it, for her sake.
"Of course you care. He's your friend," he stated simply.
"It's more than that! Pansy hated Harry! It just feels like such a betrayal, a slap in the face! But… he explained himself. He told me about how Pansy parents were… He said that Pansy felt freed by her father's death. She feels badly for her mum, but… she's not in a great place with either of them. Pansy's actually with Ron at the Burrow, if you can imagine."
"I can't," Snape said dryly.
Hermione huffed out a laugh. At least now her eyes were devoid of tears. "Neither can I. I mean… I guess I'm happy for him. I mean, I'm happy for Ginny. Her daughter is adorable!"
He tried to smile, but he only felt half of his mouth pull upward. For a moment, he feared she might be angry at him. But she laughed, shaking her head.
"Sorry. I suppose we're not quite there in the relationship yet."
"There?"
"Yeah, where you do a better job pretending you care about my friends' lives."
There was no malice there, just more mirth. He laughed a little now.
"I'll work on it. Promise."
She nodded. "I know you will."
For a moment, they simply sat there, staring at one another. Then, with a breath, Hermione launched her body over at him, pressing her lips hard to his. He froze, just as he had on their first kiss, but recovered much more quickly. For a moment, his good senses left him, and he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her as deeply as he dared. Then, he thought he heard feet scuffling by outside his door. It brought their location, and their current teacher/student relationship, screaming back to the forefront of his mind. Slowly, he pushed her back.
"We can't do this. Not yet."
She was hovering over him, his face just inches from his. If she didn't move soon, Snape was sure all of his self-control was going to go straight out of the door. But, with a deep sigh, she settled back.
"I understand," she said, defeated.
She sat back, rubbing her face with both her hands. Finally, she stood. She smiled down at him.
"I should go. I guess I'm not making the wisest decisions right now. Thank you, for talking with me tonight. Good night, Severus."
She stepped past him, and a deep ache formed in Snape's gut. He reached out, catching her by the wrist. She turned back, eyes wide.
"Did you really mean it? I question it every day. Do you really want to be with me?" he asked.
She smiled, turning around and leaning over him. She pressed a long, full kiss on his lips, taking her time exploring his mouth. When she parted from him, she stayed close, locking eyes.
"Yes. And I'll show you just how much on Christmas break. Good night."
He smiled. "Good night, Hermione."
She let herself out, and Snape sat there for the longest moment. This coming holiday might be the best one he'd had in a very long time. What a strange new world this was to him.