We're All Suffering
Early October, 1998
Severus woke in a panic. The moment his eyes opened he forgot what the source of the panic had been. He sat up in bed, running his hands over his face in an attempt to shake away whatever remained of his nightmare. Much to his displeasure, waking in a panic had become a common occurrence.
During the war, Severus had been too sleep-deprived to fear sleep. There were far deadlier things alive and waiting for him to slip up. Now, without the real terrors outside his door, sleep had become something of an enemy. His nights were plagued with visions of snakes and blood on marble floors.
Sometimes Severus gave in and took a vial of Sleepless Draught, but he tried not to. After spending years as a Potions Master, he knew all-too-well the ramifications of potion reliance. Instead, he hoped that with time the nightmares would lessen.
The sun had been up for several hours by the time Severus walked downstairs and set a kettle on the stove. As the water heated, he gazed out the small kitchen window. It looked out over the rocky landscape behind his cottage. The day was overcast–as it often was. The clouds were dark, but it had yet to begin raining.
The kettle began to sing, steam pouring into the cold air of his kitchen. Severus poured himself a cup of tea and wandered into his living room to start a fire. The air was cold these days. When he awoke the house was often a bit frosty. He had been meaning to find a warming spell meant for homes but had yet to do the research.
Having a home of his own was a new feeling. Severus decidedly enjoyed it. He enjoyed his mornings near the fire and his evenings with his nose in a book. Lately, in addition to brewing potions for the Ministry, Severus had been spending his time researching Tactile Empathy.
Granger was a curious case. After less than four visits from her, he realized quickly that she was far more intelligent than he had previously given her credit for. She was a fast learner and quick to pick up on what he needed her to do. Despite this, she still had nearly no control over her ability. The moment she touched him; he was sent back into a distant memory.
Because of his skills as a Legilimens, Severus could pick and choose what Granger saw. There was no real reason he feared her ability. So far, she had seen nothing that he hadn’t hand-selected her to see. Even so, it was strange to have someone in his mind so often. He didn’t particularly like the idea of Granger ‘getting to know’ him.
That afternoon, Severus spent his time brewing a new batch of Essence of Dittany. The monotonous task was a welcomed reprieve from the restlessness of his night. As he worked, he focused solely on the task at hand, unwilling to fester on the villains that plagued his night.
Afternoon faded into evening and evening faded into night. The fire crackled as it warmed the cottage. Outside gales began to roll across the sea, splattering Severus’ windows with rain and saltwater.
After finishing the potion, Severus leaned back in his stool and glanced out at the dark night. For the first time that day, his mind began to wander.
Is this it? Asked a familiar voice in the back of his mind. Is this all I’ll do the rest of my life?
“It’s better than pretending to be a Death Eater, isn’t it?” He asked out loud.
At least back then I had purpose, the voice chided.
Severus couldn’t help but grip the edge of the table in an attempt to suppress his sudden anger.
At least when I worked for Dumbledore, I was contributing to the Wizarding World. Now, I’m just a sad excuse for a wizard. Have I locked myself away because I’m too afraid to face the truth?
The truth. It was a slimy creature at best.
I should be dead. I should have bled out in that shack while the world celebrated their victory. Dumbledore is dead. My friends are dead or in prison. What am I doing playing hermit?
Severus rubbed his forehead and let out a long sigh. The night had only just begun and already his thoughts were beginning to argue their points. The dark parts of himself were at war with the parts that had found solace in the sea-side cottage.
Dawn wouldn’t be breaking for a long while and Severus finally began to feel the chill to the air. He wondered absently why in Merlin’s name Granger had saved him. Just as he was beginning to spiral on these thoughts, a knock came to the door.
Severus couldn’t help but jump slightly at the sound. Who the hell was at his door at midnight? No one knew where he lived. Well, no one except a strange little witch who should know better than to arrive at his cottage when she wasn’t invited.
Cursing silently to himself, Severus crossed the room and opened the door.
Granger stood on his front steps dressed in an oversized red and gold sweater and a serious expression. Her curls were damp from the sea-spray, looking longer than they had before. Her ever-present smile was gone, replaced with a look of genuine distraught.
“Granger, I thought our meeting times were clear. Thursday at-”
“Can I come in?” She interrupted.
“No,” he glared down at the young woman. “Who do you think you are to show up unannounced and…” His tirade faded when he realized that the moisture on her cheeks was not from the sea, but rather the tears coming from her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she wiped aggressively at her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I just…I don’t…I can’t…”
Severus had always prided himself in his ability to remain emotionless even when those around him were being controlled by theirs. However, upon seeing Granger so torn up, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Something in his chest twisted.
Let her in, you bastard .
“Would you like a cup of tea?” He practically groaned in annoyance after he uttered the question.
Hermione’s eyes flickered up to his. “I…yes, thank you…are you sure? I can leave…I just-”
I can see you’re upset. Come inside and tell me what’s going on , he wanted to say.
Instead, he said, “I’m tired of standing here with the door open.”
Despite his cold words, Granger let out a sigh of relief as she entered his house. Her eyes lingered on his fireplace as she wrapped her arms around herself.
“Dry yourself off, I’ll make some tea. By then, I hope you’re ready to explain yourself.”
She only gave a small nod in response.
In the kitchen, Severus felt an odd wave of anxiety pulse through him upon realizing that Granger was in his living room, crying. Something was upsetting her greatly and (for whatever reason) she had decided to seek him out. Surely, she had better people in her life to help her sort through her emotions? Hell, even one of the Weasley’s had to be a better option than him.
After several minutes, Severus returned to the living room with two cups of tea. He placed one on the table beside the chair Granger had claimed. Her hair and sweater were dry, but her cheeks still glittered with the clear sign of tears. She startled slightly when he placed the tea beside her.
“I know I shouldn’t have come here,” she said after a moment.
Despite her words, she made no attempt to leave. Instead, she crossed her legs under herself and grabbed the cup of tea as though it was her only anchor to reality.
“Why did you?” He hated how cold his words sounded. If he had been anyone else, he would have been able to find a more suitable way to speak to a distraught witch.
Granger didn’t seem to notice his roughness. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. After a moment, she took a sip of tea.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
She frowned. Her eyes were still steadily watching the flames in the hearth. “I don’t want this,” she said at last.
“The tea?”
“Empathy,” her eyes finally met him.
“And you think I am the one to voice this to?” Again, he cringed inwardly about the harshness of his tone.
Granger didn’t flinch. She assessed him and after a moment she said, “probably not but…Harry and Ginny are much too busy to have to deal with my problems on top of their own. Ron’s been supportive but he...I just don’t know who else to go to.”
The admission took Severus by surprise. Granger was the Gryffindor princess--the brains of the Golden Trio. It was odd to hear her admit that her friends couldn’t help her. Then again, who could help someone in her position.
“I’m not trying to put this all on you,” she looked down at the mug of tea in her hands. “You’ve made your intentions clear. I just…I’m not sure why I’m here. I’m sorry for intruding. If you want me to go, I-”
“It’s fine,” he said neutrally.
Severus leaned back in his chair and gazed over at the fire. He wasn’t willing to admit it out loud, but Granger’s sudden appearance had pulled him out of a rather dangerous spiral of thinking.
“I’ve always been someone who enjoys showing my affection to the people I care about,” her voice was small as she spoke. “A big part of that is…touch. Holding hands, hugging…I never really thought about it until I couldn’t. Even with my gloves I’m afraid. And I see it with my friends, they’re afraid too, although they won’t admit it.”
“They are afraid to see their memories?” Surely her friends didn’t have that terrible of pasts. Likely, they had more happy memories than bad.
“Yes and no. Not all the memories I see and feel are inherently bad. Some are, while others are quite pleasant. I think the primary discomfort comes from the fact that people don’t always want to be reminded of their pasts--good or bad. Even good memories leave people feeling nostalgic or even a bit sorrowful.”
It was a fair assessment and one that Severus hadn’t considered. “I suppose that makes sense. Perhaps they see you as a representation of the past.”
“Exactly,” she met his eyes again. He was pleasantly surprised to see that the tears had dried. “I can’t help but feel like I’m trapped in the past while the rest of the world is moving forward.”
“You’ve been coming here for three weeks,” Severus said. “Be patient. You’ve yet to master this skill but that doesn’t mean you won’t.”
Granger scowled and took a sip of tea. “Patience isn’t one of my skills.”
He felt a smile tug at his lips, but he did his best to keep his features neutral. “And welcoming intruders into my home is not one of mine, but I didn’t leave you standing out there alone, did I?”
At that, she gave a small smile--the first of the evening. “No, you didn’t. I’m still a bit surprised by that.”
“You came here assuming I’d slam the door in your face?” He raised an eyebrow wondering if all Gryffindors had such little self-preservation.
Granger shrugged. “I hoped you wouldn’t, but I didn’t make any assumptions.”
Severus said nothing, letting silence fall upon the conversation. In the fireplace, flames crackled. Wind howled outside and the old cottage groaned quietly in the gales. Across from him, Hermione sipped her tea. Her legs were still curled up underneath her as her eyes focused on the fire.
“What made you upset enough to come here tonight?” He asked at last.
Hermione didn’t respond right away. “I don’t think you want to hear about my…problems.”
“Granger,” his eyes scanned over her. “It’s well-past midnight. Tell me why you’re here.”
She toyed with a piece of her unruly hair, twisting it around one of her fingers absent-mindedly. “I can’t share everything since it involves my ability, and I prefer to keep things private when it comes to the minds of others but…I saw something I shouldn’t have. And I’m afraid that Harry will…I’m afraid of what he is going to do.”
Severus furrowed his brow. “Surely you didn’t see anything too terrible--it’s Potter.” The young wizard was hardly a complex individual.
“I wouldn’t say it was terrible. It was just something I was clearly not meant to see. When I pulled away, he was frantic. He kept explaining that it wasn’t what it seemed and…”
His curiosity was piqued. “I suppose you won’t be telling me what you saw?”
“Of course not,” she said quickly. “I’m only saying this much because I don’t know what to do with the information. If what I saw is real, Harry…well, I’m just worried for him.”
“Tell me, Granger. When have you not been worried for him?”
Her nervous energy stilled, and her eyes met his. “Never, I suppose.”
“Against all odds, he survived Voldemort. Whatever you saw certainly will not kill him.”
“No, but he’s…I think he’s suffering.”
“We’re all suffering.”
For a moment, she just stared at him.
“The suffering of others is not your priority right now. Potter will sort his life out however he decides.” He crossed one leg over the other and took a long sip of tea. “You cannot hold yourself responsible for everything your friends struggle with.”
“I just want to help,” Granger was quiet as she spoke.
“And I am certain your friends know that. If Potter needs your assistance in a personal matter, he will find a way to approach you about it. In the meantime, there are plenty of other things you can be focusing your energy on.”
“Like what, I haven’t even found a job yet?”
Severus let out a sigh. With a quick Accio, he summoned a book called 'The Soft Arts'. He had half a mind to give her 'The Empath' to read, but she wasn't ready for all that quite yet. For now, a brief outline of what the soft arts were was all she needed. He let the large book fall onto the table beside Granger with a dull thud.
“Research. With an overactive mind like yours I suppose it’s best to fill it. Read up on the concept known as the Soft Arts. During our next meeting, I expect you to know nearly as much on the matter as I do.”
Homework. He was giving the witch homework. However, the idea had the desired effect. Upon seeing the pile of books and the prospect of learning, Granger’s anxiety visibly lessened. She took the book off the table and began to page through it.
“Thank you,” she said, refusing to look up from the pages.
Severus merely grunted a response.
“I plan to apply to work at Hogwarts,” the declaration pulled Severus out of his head.
He glanced over to see Draco stirring his own potion idly. The younger wizard had a determined expression as if his idea of returning to Hogwarts was one of utmost interest. Severus was surprised by the decision, but it was one he could understand.
“I think that will suit you fine,” he offered.
“Will it?” A sudden look of worry crossed his face. He looked up from his station and towards Severus. “McGonagall is Headmistress now. I don’t know if she knows about my condition, but she will soon if I’m to start next autumn.”
“You will do fine.”
Draco scoffed.
“I cannot tell if you are concerned about being a professor or a werewolf.” Severus said with a sigh.
“Both, obviously. A werewolf isn’t the kind of professor most people want their children to have.”
“The parents will likely never find out.”
Draco gave him a long look. “People have a way of finding things out.”
“Who knows other than your mother and myself?”
“No one but-”
“McGonagall will know, yes. But she will not spread that information.”
He looked unconvinced.
“I assume you’ve been smart enough to stay on top of brewing and taking Wolfsbane.”
“Yes.”
“Then you will be fine. It’s not as if you are the first werewolf to teach and Hog-”
“What?” He looked more shocked than before.
Severus put his own potion under a stasis spell and cleared his throat. “If I could be a professor, you will do fine.”
“No,” he furrowed his brow. “You just said there’s another werewolf at Hogwarts.”
“ Was . Yes.”
“Who?”
“Lupin.” Severus disliked the man, mostly due to his association with the so-called Marauders. However, as far as he could tell, the man had been decent at teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Draco seemed to be processing the information rather slowly. Severus rolled his eyes and returned to his work.
“So, I really could be a professor,” the younger wizard said after a long time.
“Yes,” Severus replied. “However, I thought just the other week you were interested in joining an apothecary.”
Draco let out a long sigh. Since getting to know the fellow Slytherin a bit better, it was clear that he took after Lucius when it came to the dramatics. Everything was a big deal to Draco. It was almost endearing, if it hadn’t been so annoying.
“I did want to work at an Apothecary but I…I met up with an old friend and she reminded me of how much I enjoyed Hogwarts. I didn’t really realize I missed it until I was away.”
“It hasn’t even been a year since you left.”
“I know but it wasn’t like my last year there was very…nice.”
“If it's what you want to do, then do it.” After a moment of silence, Severus asked, “which friend of yours have you been catching up with?”
He couldn’t be sure what made him ask the question. Perhaps it was because he was growing closer to Draco during their time together. Or, perhaps, a certain Gryffindor was beginning to rub off on him a bit.
If Draco found the question odd, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he simply answered by saying, “Pansy.”
Severus nodded. He should have figured as much. Pansy and Draco had always been relatively close during their time at Hogwarts.
“She started owling me a couple months ago. We’ve been catching up a bit over owl but just the other day she came over for tea.” He paused. “It’s the first time anyone’s been over other than you and Potter. It was…pleasant.”
Despite himself, he related to the sentiment. While Granger was far from his first choice for company, he was beginning to find her visits almost pleasant. It could be isolating being alone in an empty house all day.
“Does she plan to teach at Hogwarts?” Severus raised an eyebrow. Parkinson was far from the studious type. It was hard to imagine her running a classroom.
Draco laughed. “No,” he said quickly. “She’s actually working in Hogsmeade. After the war, her parents were arrested, and she decided to make some big changes.”
For a moment a wave of silence filled the room. Big changes. It had been a common sentiment for most of the former followers of Voldemort. While most Death Eaters were either dead or in Azkaban, many of his followers who hadn’t taken the mark were attempting to put some distance between themselves and the dark wizard.
“I suppose that’s for the best,” Severus said after a long moment of silence.
“Do you really think you’ll stay hiding from the world forever?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He met the younger wizard with an irritated look. “Why do you think?”
“It’s not like you were even a Death Eater. You saved Potter and-”
“I may have changed my allegiances but that doesn’t change the fact that I took the Mark and followed his orders. I am not innocent in this.”
“But you’re not the one under house-arrest. So, why are you so intent to live like a hermit?”
“Do I strike you as a wizard who enjoys the company of others?” He raised a dark brow.
Draco couldn’t help but give a small laugh in response. “No, I suppose not. But,” his silver eyes met with Severus’. “When I’m released, I’m going to figure out where you’re living and visit you.”
“Good luck,” he bit back in response. Hopefully he never befriends Granger, was all he could think.