Chapter 1
Potions and Parchments Gift Fic
For Dora Russel
Prompts I tried to use/Prompts that Inspired me
> 17 plus year old Hermione going back to finish her study after the War and them falling for each other - role play of power is free to explore. .
For AU scenarios, I like when one (or both of them) is a musician/artist.
>>
I thought I would Combine these. In some way.
Also listened to Instrumental: Frédéric Chopin and Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky.
Alpha: IREM, couldn’t have done it without you
Beta: thank you so much to Corrie, Keren and Purple. I love you all so much.
Words: 5200
One Hundred Thirty-Six Days. That was how long it had been since the Final Battle. One Hundred Thirty-Six days since Voldemort had been defeated and the people of the Wizarding World had started rebuilding their lives. One hundred thirty-five days since the re-construction of Hogwarts started and one day since it ended. Hermione had been there for every single one of them.
They had worked so hard to try and have the school ready for the first of September, but unfortunately, it hadn’t been possible. They had decided that they would prolong the school year two more weeks into the next summer, and that next year, they would start on the first of September as usual.
Initially her two best friends, Harry and Ron, hadn’t wanted to come back. However, the time since the Battle had changed their minds. If Hermione wanted to go back to finish her education and apply for one of the Magical Universities, Harry and Ron would return so all three of them could be together, and without any adult responsibilities. They could have become Aurors, but that would require them to fully acknowledge the childhood that had to be left behind. If she was honest to herself, Hermione had partly decided to come back for the same reason.
A year on the run, and having to care for her friends, and making plans and making sure that everything was alright and safe had taken its toll on her. She was twenty years old and a half, but she felt the war had aged her beyond that. She couldn’t even remember ever being a teen and yet, she was almost done with her teenage years.
Hermione also suspected that the majority of the Eighth Year returning students had come back precisely for the same reason too.
If she were to bet, it was probably why Severus Snape, traitor spy turned hero, had returned to the school full of students and teachers who’d despised him for years.
When Harry had proclaimed in front of everyone that Severus Snape had actually always been on their side, Hermione hadn’t even waited for the final battle. She’d run out of the Great Hall and straight to the Shrieking Shack, hoping beyond hope that it wouldn’t be too late. A sight she would never forget awaited her when she got there.
…
Fawkes, Dumbledore’s pet familiar, who had disappeared without trace after the funeral, was sitting next to Snape, silently crying into his wounds.
“Fawkes! What are you doing here?”
For a moment Hermione sat mesmerised at the crystal-like tears that were falling onto the snake’s bite, closing it up.
The Phoenix looked at her when she entered the room and letting out a musical cry flew and grabbed her by the clothes, bringing her directly next to Snape.
“You also came to help,” she said and quickly got the potions out of her bag and proceeded to nurse Severus Snape back to health. After a few minutes of her casting spells and administering potions, Hermione stopped and looked at the bird who was watching her intently.
“Fawkes, he needs a Healer. Can you bring Madam Pomphrey?”
For a moment she’d doubted that he would go, or if he even understood her, but then in a flash he was gone and immediately came back, holding a confused Madam Pomphrey by the claws.
“What in Merlin’s name is happening?” the Mediwitch shouted, and upon noticing Severus Snape she drew her wand.
“YOU!” she exclaimed before realising that he was lifeless and in no position to attack, and that Hermione Granger was sitting next to him, trying to heal him.
“Miss Granger?”
“Madam Pomphrey! Please, you probably didn’t hear Harry, but professor Snape was always on our side. I came here as fast as I could to try and help and I found Fawkes here already trying to heal him with his tears!”
“On our side? But… but, he killed Albus! He…” And perhaps she would have said more, but at the notion that Severus Snape might have killed Dumbledore, Fawkes went and poked her hand, giving her a very much what Hermione would call a glare.
“No, Madam Pomphrey. Harry said Dumbledore wanted to die. So he asked Severus to do it! Do you think Fawkes would be here if it wasn’t true? The Headmaster must have asked him to look out for professor Snape! You have to help me!”
After Hermione’s words, Fawkes left out a musical cry as if in agreement with her, and flew right near Snape’s head. That seemed to shake the Mediwitch out of the trance.
“Goodness Merlin! Severus! Oh no, my dear boy!” In a flash she bent down and got to work.
Hermione left herself at ease then and wondered how the Mediwitch could so easily switch between hatred and anger, to concern. She wondered if it was an act, or something else, but with Severus unconscious, Hermione didn’t see a reason for it. Maybe Madam Pomphrey had always held out hope that professor Snape wasn’t truly a traitor.
Alas, she knew it wasn’t the right time to ask.
----
And somehow, it had never been the right time to approach the subject. Madam Pomphrey had stabilised the Potions Professor and then had moved him to Hospital Wing, with Fawkes hot on their heels. The phoenix had been the constant companion of Severus Snape ever since. Many people wondered why and how exactly, but to Hermione, Harry and Ron it was obvious. He was there to make sure the Potions Master would never be punished for what Dumbledore asked of him. A way out in case Harry’s negotiations failed.
Of course, because Fawkes was always there, it helped Harry’s case much, much more. Dumbledore’s portrait also corroborated that while Albus was alive, his last instructions to his beloved pet were to protect Severus and keep him alive through the war.
All of these had happened without the man in question being present for any of the trials, court orders and whatnot. Severus Snape had been comatose for weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts, and Harry and herself had feared he wouldn’t make it. Until he did. Fawkes had let everyone know he was awake by letting out the first joyous, musical sound in months that Hogwarts had witnessed.
It was safe to say Severus Snape had been confused upon seeing Fawkes at his bedside and even more confused to discover that he was alive. And probably already sceptical of the reality of things when Harry had come to apologise and thank him for everything. Hermione had swung back later, once the crowd had dissipated to check upon the man and see if she could do something to help and if he would be okay to continue sitting in the Hospital Wing for a little longer, while they finished renovating that part of the school. They’d put a magical protective bubble around the area, and he was still too weak to pass through it. They couldn’t take it off because of all the construction taking place. Hermione had only the best intentions in mind, but she wished she hadn’t gone back so soon. It was the first and only time she’d seen her Potions Professor break down and cry in her years of life till then.
…
Hermione was greeted with ugly sobs and tears coming from the room where Severus Snape rested. The sounds stopped her in her tracks. She knew she should have either left or made her presence known, but something kept rooted in place, silent and unmoving.
“Fawkes,” the voice gasped, and Hermione realised that the sobs were coming from the man himself. “I cannot believe Albus did this, that he asked you to watch over me. I never believed he cared. No one ever really cared.” More sobs. But this time the bird seemed to answer with a soft musical cry.
Hermione couldn’t take it anymore. She knew she had to see him. She took a few steps back and then walked loudly forward, knocking on the door. The sobs stopped at once and a shallow voice whispered, “Enter.”
“Miss Granger,” he murmured. “What brings you here?”
“Hello Professor! I’m sorry to intrude. I just wanted to check on you, how are you feeling? Do you suppose it would be okay for you to remain a couple more days in the hospital wing, until your magic fully replenishes?”
“Miss Granger, Mister Potter already informed me that there is a barrier protecting the Hospital Wing from the construction, if that’s what you’re here for.”
“Oh,” was all she could say, stilted and awkward. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think… Harry would…”
“Yes, I was equally surprised that Mister Potter had the capacity to think and the insight to inform me about this. Alas, I am aware and unfortunately so, I know there is nothing else for me to do but wait. Could have been worse. I was fully expecting to find myself in Azkaban.”
“Harry would have never let that happen!” Hermione said fiercely. And neither would I, were the words left unsaid.
“Indeed. So-called Gryffindor honour code.”
She scoffed. “You know full well it’s not just that.”
“Maybe,” he whispered, shifting his glance towards Fawkes who was rubbing his head on his shoulder.
“I think he’s yours now, Professor.”
For the first time in history, Hermione saw her Potions Professor give a shadow of a smile. “I suppose he is.”
…..
After that first interaction Hermione had spoken with the Potions Master a handful of other times, enough to conclude now that he had purely stayed at Hogwarts for he had nowhere else to go. Spinner’s End held bad memories for him. There were people outside Hogwarts who were too thankful for his service, and people who hated that he’d been given a Get-Out-of-Azkaban-Free card. Both sides were inclined to hunt him still for different reasons and Hogwarts was the best place for him to remain.
He didn’t have to worry about things here. Professor McGonagall, or Minerva as she’d asked Hermione to call her, had taken up the mantle of Headmistress again, and was hell-bent on protecting Snape. Like every other professor, perhaps even more so considering the amount of time she’d known Severus Snape for, she’d felt guilty over her treatment of him during the war. It didn’t matter that he’d told her that she’d done exactly as expected.
“I should have known you better, regardless of how good of a spy you are,” had been her only response. The Potions Master hadn’t said anything, but Hermione could tell that he was touched and that silently he’d agreed with the statement.
In a way, Hermione understood too. After all, if she were to come out as a traitor for whatever reason, she’d sure hope Harry and Ron would know there had to be a good reason and that she was still on their side regardless of any events.
Hermione sighed. She was getting too deeply philosophical. First night of school and she was already breaking the rules by being out after curfew. Not even Harry and Ron were out at this point. The boys were heavy asleep in their dorms. Not Hermione though. For the past couple of months as she’d worked in the Hogwarts renovation day after day, she’d use the nights to relax. Long strolls along the castle, up to the Astronomy tower and back. It was a sense of safety and peace, knowing for once, there were no more bad guys to jump out of the shadows. She’d even befriended Filch.
Tonight, when she’d tried to sleep, Morpheus simply had refused to come. So she’d tiptoed out of her room and onto the castle corridors she’d gone, like a ghost in the middle of the night. She missed the ability to play her music box until she fell asleep. However, she couldn’t play it in the dorm with the other students. It was a Muggle box, and while she’d managed to have it work while at Hogwarts, she had not yet managed to make it work while under Muffliato charm.
So roaming at night it was. As she was going down through the Great Hall, and admiring the fake night sky, she heard a most beautiful musical sound coming from the dungeons. As if in a trance, Hermione went down the stairs, down into the Slytherins’ lair. Listening carefully, she realised she was hearing the Swan Lake theme! By Tchaikovsky!
Hermione walked until she found herself right in front of Severus Snape’s quarters. She knew where they were for she’d been the one to help him move there from the Hospital Wing. More than anything she wanted to go in and see if he indeed was playing the beautiful melody or if he had another music box on hand. But she couldn’t dare, it’d be too bold. Bound to cause trouble. She already felt like an intruder in a special moment. Besides, what if he wasn’t alone?
Sighing, she closed her eyes and rested on the cold wall, listening to the music. It was so soothing she nearly fell asleep. The only thing keeping her awake was the knowledge that outside of her Potions Professor’s classroom was not the place to be sleeping.
“Anything I can help you with, Miss Granger? Any particular reason you decided to try and sleep outside my quarters? Perhaps you’ve confused the wall with your bed?”
At the sound of his voice, Hermione snapped out of her trance and stood up, coming face to face with the Potions Master.
“P-Professor! I am so sorry! I was… couldn’t sleep, you see,” she babbled. “I couldn’t sleep and I was walking around the school when I heard the music. Swan Lake is one of my favourites by Tchaikovsky!”
He was looking at her with an intensity she was not accustomed to, like trying to read deep into her soul, to see if she was lying about being familiar with the music. She’d never realised before, but his eyes were truly beautiful onyx with a slight sparkle. His face looked so much younger without having to be on constant guard all the time, trapped between two masters.
“Miss Granger?”
“Ah, yes?” she said, not realising he was now staring at her suspiciously.
“I said, would you like to come in?”
“Oh. Oh!” she exclaimed, looking at the opened door. When had he opened it? She could see a giant piano at the edge of the room and a couch surrounded by shelves and shelves of books. He’d made some decorations.
“Yes, yes, I’m sorry,” she said and entered. I can’t believe he invited me in. I wonder if he’s on something…. He’d never seemed this welcoming in the past. But then, he does seem that he’s been changing. He’s much more pleasant to be around. We actually have meaningful conversations. Maybe this is why he’s letting me in now. I was there when he couldn’t sleep during the construction.
“Miss Granger?”
Hermione realised she was standing in the middle of the room, staring at him.
“Is everything okay, Miss Granger?”
“Yes!” she shouted and moved forward, straight to the piano. “Sorry, I was just… Uh, I was just thinking.”
He chuckled. Hermione turned so fast, she almost got whiplash. She’d never heard him do anything even close to chuckling before!
“I didn’t know you played the piano.”
“My mother taught me when I was young. It was before I showed any signs of magic. I enjoyed it. Swan Lake was also her favourite. But I loved Chopin more as a child.”
“Frederic Chopin?” Hermione asked, itching closer to the piano. There were so many music sheets sitting atop it.
“No, Amadeus Ludwig Chopin. Of course Frederic! Do you know any other one?”
Hermione laughed. He could make jokes too!
“I love Chopin too,“ was what she said instead. “Music was the one subject I struggled with in school. I wished I could understand the genius behind such beautiful compositions. To compose myself.”
He came and sat in front of the piano. Without speaking he started playing the most heartbreaking music Hermione had ever witnessed. It was raw and full of emotions. She couldn’t remember ever hearing it before. As she noticed him playing with his eyes closed, a sudden realisation came to mind…
“You’ve written this! You… make music.”
“I try…” was his answer.
“Professor! That was the most beautiful lullaby I have ever listened to! You have a gift!”
This time he chuckled bitterly. “That was what my mother said when I excelled at Potions. And that was what my father said after my first piano recital. The first and last time he was proud of me.”
“Professor,” she said again, this time subdued.
“Don’t pity me, Miss Granger. I made a choice between Potions and Piano, and I always thought I would be stuck with one or the other, but in the past months sitting here at Hogwarts… Did you know that Minerva got me this piano?”
“What?”
“Yes. It would seem Albus left her a letter to be given after the war, and he’d mentioned to her that I had a penchant for playing piano. The night you brought me here and left me at the door after finally leaving the Hospital Wing, I entered the room and found it. I’ve been playing every night ever since. It seems like I have not forgotten the basis.”
Hermione couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Wow. You have great talent.”
“Do you know how to play, Miss Granger?” he asked, and Hermione shook her head.
“I’ve wanted to learn, but I was going to sign up after I finished primary school. Then I went to Hogwarts and my parents didn’t want me to do more classes during the summer.”
He looked at her, as if staring into her soul. “Would you like to learn? Since, it seems you still cannot sleep.” He threw her a pointed look and Hermione realised that he knew she’d never truly slept a full night through ever since the war had ended.
“I’d be delighted,” she answered, looking into his eyes as well.
Severus couldn’t stop pacing the floor. What in Merlin’s name had possessed him to ask Granger if she wanted to learn to play piano? He wasn’t a piano teacher! He was barely a teacher anymore at all.
You know why, Severus. A voice in his head said. Of course he knew. Granger had been at the forefront of his thoughts ever since he’d woken up from his weeks-long coma. If he was honest, maybe even during it if his dreams were any indication.
It was truly foolish of him. And yet, the goddess from his dreams, the fierce witch that had awoken him… when he’d opened his eyes, he’d realised that she was Granger. It was inexplicable and yet… She’d been the one to come back and save him. While Potter was apologetic and almost worshipped him, Granger… treated him normally. She didn’t behave like he was made of glass like some of his colleagues did or as if he was above normal like Potter did. No, she saw him as someone normal.
Their lessons had been a joyful experience for Severus so far. Music was meant to be shared, and having Granger to play his compositions for had been a true delight. Besides, she was a really good student. She’d learnt to play piano come December, a natural like he was.
And yet, with the lessons night after night had come feelings. Feelings he had no right to be feeling. Not when Granger came and trusted him night for night, when she treated him as a friend.
Which brought him to his current predicament. He had to stop these lessons. If he didn’t, Merlin knew what could happen. He was a spy, yes. He had a self-control made of steel, yes. Was he tired of having to maintain it? Also yes. Was there any reason to contain himself? Not really.
Of course there is a reason, you fool! His inner voice scolded. She trusts you. You have become friends … companions. Why ruin that? Why ruin another friendship with your worthless feelings? Why do you have these feelings anyway?
Good question indeed. Why did he feel? Severus himself couldn’t truly answer it. It was maybe the way she acted and the way she carried herself around. The way her smile lit up the entire room whenever she walked in. Or maybe the way her laugh was music to his ears. He loved making her laugh. Even if it meant him laughing in front of her. Hearing her laugh was worth the embarrassment of others seeing him laugh.
The way he’d feel electrocuted the moment her hands even remotely touched his clothes, let alone his skin. He’d never felt like anything before. The night before she’d touched his hands while sitting next to him playing piano, and she’d leaned down and rested her head onto his shoulder. Completely innocent, and yet, Severus felt like he was touching fire.
In the Potions Class, things were the same though. Of course, his heart skipped a beat each time he saw her, but fortunately for him, he didn’t have to worry about his feelings ever impairing his judgement. She was the most brilliant NEWTS student he’d ever had and truly deserved to have the brightest witch of her age title. Severus had a feeling that if he tried to mark her down as he might have in the past, to maintain Slytherins at the top, everyone would riot. Everyone knew she was the best.
She put a passion into making potions that he rarely had seen. Of course, she at times was stuck using the instructions to the dot, but her hair fizzled and her face was basked in fumes, and she would stay until the potion was one hundred percent finished.
Lately, he’d seen her less. She was starting to sleep better again. He couldn’t begrudge her that, and yet he was jealous. For his own sleep was not improving. He laid awake, dreaming of her. Over and over again, seeing her floating under the moon, eyes glowing in the dark. The previous night he’d seen himself giving her a rose in front of a cottage with a guitar in hand.
You don’t even know how to play guitar.
One can learn, he responded to the voice.
Lessons have to stop. You know that. These feelings… are wrong. She’s your student, a child. The voice said again. She’s over 20, he countered. Call her anything, but Granger, she was anything but a child. Truthfully, save the current first years… Severus doubted there were any true children left at Hogwarts. So much of their innocence had been robbed from them all.
Still, she’s so much younger than you…
“She’s capable of making her own decisions,” he said out loud, fed up with his inner voice. It’d only ever got him in trouble.
“Professor?”
“Miss Granger!” he exclaimed. Checking the clock he realised she’d come earlier than he’d expected. She was looking at him expectantly, the same look that made him want to grab her and never let her go. And yet, he’d asked her to come tonight to do just that. A clean break, or so they called it.
“Miss Granger, we need to stop the piano lessons.”
“What?” she asked, and he could see the hurt and confusion on her face. She took a step towards him. He wished he could back away, but he was already backed against the piano. “I thought they were going well! I thought you enjoyed our sessions!”
He swallowed hard.
“That’s the thing, Miss Granger. I enjoy them…. Too much.”
“Professor?” she quizzed and took another step forward.
“Miss Granger, please!” he said and put his hand in front of his chest as if to stop her.
“I don’t understand, if you enjoyed them… why?”
Slowly she moved and she was so close to him, that if he reached his hand, he’d touch her chest.
“Because,” he said slowly, “I enjoy them… too much,” he repeated, willing her to understand.
She looked at him, up and down and then exclaimed, a soft “Oh!’
“Oh, indeed,” he replied. “Do you understand now, why they have to stop?”
“No.”
“Thank.. NO?
“Yes, no. I enjoy them just as much. I don’t see the issue.”
Severus felt like he was losing his mind, staring at the stubborn girl in front of him. In one swift motion he grabbed her and spun them around, having her back the piano.
“You can’t mean that.”
“I do,” she said and as his eyes searched hers, he could see that she was not lying.
“I’m too old for you.”
“Wizards and witches live for centuries. What’s 19 years?”
“I am not a liked man. Or a nice man.”
“You’re nice enough.”
“I’ve done so many wrong things. Being with a student wasn’t on my list.”
“I’m an adult. Besides, it’s all about power, isn’t it?”
“Miss Granger-”
“Hermione,” she cut him off.
“Hermione, you don’t know what you’re asking of me.”
“Then why don’t you show me,.... Severus?”
And with that his resolve broke and he kissed her. He kissed her as if she was the answer to all his prayers, and in a way, she was. He put one hand in her hair and the other around her waist, bringing her closer to him.
He knew he’d found the inspiration for his next hundred lullabies when she kissed him back, just as fiercely. Maybe he’d learn guitar too after all.
…
Hermione was laying in bed wide awake, taking in her surroundings. It was the first time, of many she hoped, that she was seeing the inside of Severus Snape's bedroom. It was exactly how she'd imagined it would be. Not overly green and silver, but rather with a dark tone to it and filled with smells of potions and spices. The walls were a beautiful maroon. Hermione felt so calm in his arms.
"Are you regretting not leaving when I told you that I'm cancelling the lessons?" a deep voice from beside her asked and turning Hermione saw Severus, raised above the sheets, although still covered enough that he wasn't naked, looking at her with a slight frown on his face. She could see in his eyes the utter fear that she indeed was regretting her actions.
"What gave you this ridiculous idea?" she asked, turning and grasping at the sheets to fully face him. "Are you regretting it?"
His hand grasped her face, caressing it gently. "Don't be absurd. While bedding my student wasn't on my list of sins, I find it's one I cannot regret."
She chuckled. "Then why are you being absurd? And I should let you know, while bedding a teacher hasn't always been on my list…. I've dreamed about you for a while."
"I… What?"
"Ever since that first time I saw you in the hospital wing, after you woke up from your coma…. I don't know. Can't really explain it. You've been at the forefront of my dreams for a while. I've never realised before, with all the stress of the war. But you have a really wonderful voice."
Hermione could tell she'd stunned him into silence.
"So, silly man…no. I do not regret anything. Stop being absurd."
His eyes searched hers, deep onyx eyes into brown ones, looking to see if she was telling the truth. Slowly, he moved closer and kissed her. While kissing him back, and putting her hands on his face she realised he was crying. Small tears falling down his face. When they pulled back, his eyes were shining. Hermione realised that he trusted her to wipe them.
…
That had been the second time she'd ever seen him cry; and while the first time it'd broken her heart, that night in bed had been the moment when she'd realised she wanted to be with him forever. Maybe to others it would have seemed a little rushed, one night of love and she was ready to promise forever, but to her it'd been much more than one night. It was a series of meetings where she'd seen him slowly open up his heart to her.
Since then she'd seen him cry once more. Hermione remembered it as clearly as the first time. Many had asked her if he'd cried at their wedding or when he'd proposed. But the truth was he hadn't. It was she who'd cried when hearing his heartfelt vows, and the way he'd sung to her. He'd dedicated two songs to her. One on piano and one on guitar - something he'd learnt without even telling her.
The surprise of the evening had also been Fawkes who'd erupted into a beautiful song the moment they'd been proclaimed husband and wife.
No, Severus had cried the moment he'd heard their daughter cry after being born. They were at St Mungo's and the Healers had just placed their daughter in his hands while working on Hermione. It was the first time he'd seen him cry so openly, unafraid of who might hear him. It was also the moment everyone else of her family and friends, with the exception of Harry and Ron, truly realised she hadn't been wrong in marrying him. Severus Snape was capable of emotions and love and oh, how he loved! Those tears were tears of relief because he'd been saddled with worries ever since she'd confessed the pregnancy to him. She was glad people finally saw him for who he was, a man who'd anything for her and Evelyn.
As she entered the chambers she was greeted by Severus with a finger upon his lips.
"She's sleeping," he whispered. Evelyn was teething and she'd been hard to fall asleep.
"How did you manage that?" she whispered back.
Silently he pointed back and for the first time Hermione noticed the Phoenix softly nuzzling the baby's face.
Slowly, they exited the room hand in hand. As they closed the door, Hermione couldn't help but murmur.
"Fawkes, the babysitter."
He chuckled. "Indeed. I never thought I'd be this fond of the old man's bird."
"Sev, I think he's your bird now."
And Fawkes was truly Severus' bird through and through. Anywhere Severus went, Fawkes wasn't far behind. Hermione knew that her husband was beyond grateful for him, though. Fawkes had played a huge part in others seeing her husband for the man he was, and even in their relationship.
Hermione herself was grateful for the phoenix who had saved her husband's life with his tears. Despite Severus claiming that it was acting on Dumbledore's orders, she had an inkling the Phoenix would have helped either way.
"Maybe you're right," he whispered and took her hand in his, touching slightly her wedding ring.
Hermione couldn't help but smile, looking at their intertwined hands.
"Of course, I'm right. When am I ever wrong?"
A deep baritone laugh erupted, which she quickly shushed, pointing back to the closed door.
"You wish, you cheeky minx," was his reply. "You wish."