What Goes Around... (cont.)
A drabble series that grew out of the 'Headmistress Hermione' challenge on Grangersnape 100.
Summary: Down on his luck, Severus returns to Hogwarts to seek employment. Will the Headmistress give him a chance?
Rating:PG-13
Thanks to my betas Septentrion and Sempra.
10. Tentative Progress.
An hour later, Severus wiped his brow for the umpteenth time and paused to admire his handiwork. There was an impressive stack of empty pots behind him, but there was still a long way to go. Huffing resignedly, he picked up the next small lavender bush, carefully eased it out of its pot and placed it in the earth he'd so painstakingly prepared the day before. It wasn't as boring a job as he'd expected—repetitive, certainly, but it was also strangely contemplative. Firming the soil around the base of the lavender with his hands, Severus let his mind drift.
In her study, Hermione was catching up on her private correspondence. Ignoring her owl's impatient wing-flapping, she put the parchment to one side and called for some much-needed tea. It was proving difficult to concentrate, her mind forever returning to Betty's shocking revelations about Harry's sainted mother. The vampire hadn't pulled any punches: not bothering to conceal her contempt, she'd made a scathing attack on Lily Evans' character, which went way beyond the usual Gryffindor/Slytherin animosity. Severus, however, could do no wrong. He's like one of my own. But don't tell him I said that. He'll think I've gone soft.
She'd resisted the temptation of watching him from the window, yesterday—well, she'd taken the odd peek, just to see how he was getting on. It had absolutely nothing to do with the sawn-off jeans, cut just above the knee, and the black T-shirt he was wearing to work in, of course. Picking up her mug, Hermione sighed. This was ridiculous. They'd barely spoken all week, and the tension between them was palpable. She walked slowly over to the window with her tea, making her mind up. She was the Headmistress; any bridge-building would have to be instigated by her.
Getting up to rest his knees and stretch his back a bit, Severus cast a gentle rainmaking charm on the bed he'd just planted. One down, three to go. He glanced up at Hermione's office, then at the window to the side. She was standing there, smiling at him.
'Looking good,' she called out, her voice echoing around the courtyard.
Severus almost quipped, 'Me or the garden?' but stopped himself. He had been waiting for an appropriate moment to speak to Hermione, and it looked like this might be the perfect opportunity. 'Any chance of some tea?’ he called back.
'Of course. I'll send some down.'
'Don't bother.' Severus wiped his hands on his jeans. 'I'll come up.'
Seconds later, he was perching on Hermione's window sill. She swallowed. Flying without any means of support was unnatural, whichever way you looked at it—it gave credence to all those old vampire rumours, for one thing. But sitting there, legs dangling, black-kneed, clutching his mug, Severus looked more like some overgrown urchin—boyish, grubby, and rather endearing.
After an embarrassed silence, Severus eventually spoke. 'I feel I owe you an explanation—’
'You don't owe me anything,' Hermione replied, rather too quickly.
He sighed. 'Hermione, I dream about Lily from time to time—but I dream about all the others, too.'
'I see—'
'But...' Severus took a large gulp of tea. 'When I lay dying, it was Lily I saw, and I knew if I could get to her, I would be safe...'
'Oh, Severus.' Hermione reached out to touch his arm but pulled back. 'I had no idea...'
He shrugged, staring into his mug. 'She turned away from me; I woke up in the hospital wing. And when I dream of her now, she still pulls away... but, er... you... didn't.'
Severus finished his tea. 'I can't control my dreams, Hermione, but when I... when we... I-I wasn't thinking of her. I want you to know that.'
Frowning, Hermione worried her bottom lip. She'd needed to hear it, but she wasn't sure it changed anything. 'Besotted he was,' Betty had told her. ’Followed her around like a lost lamb.' She still had no desire to be compared with a dead woman and found lacking.
'I had a visit from Betty the Bloodthirsty, yesterday—'
'Don't tell me.' He scowled. 'She never liked Lily.'
'But she does think a great deal of you...'
'In my day, certain 'ladies' kept dwarves as servants to enhance their beauty. I believe having Severus in tow made the Evans girl feel superior...'
'Lily was my friend...,'
Some friend. If anyone had humiliated Harry or Ron in front of the entire school, she'd have hexed their bits off—not used it as a flirting opportunity.
'...and I was responsible, at least in part, for her death.'
'I realise it must have been very hard for you, all these years...'
Severus snorted. 'Guilt, Hermione. Nothing but. I'm not still carrying a torch for her, if that's what you're thinking.'
'I don't want you to feel you have to tell me...'
'I know.' He sighed. 'It was a long time ago. And while I deluded myself for years that she returned my feelings, she loved James Potter...'
... She let him hold her hand in the library, got him to do her homework—but she always had her eye on the rich boys... She went after Sirius Black first...
'... Even after she married him, I hoped she'd come to her senses eventually and leave him—and I'd be there to pick up the pieces... But it wasn't to be.'
Hermione nodded, not really knowing what to say. Arms folded, she took a step closer to the window and looked down into the courtyard. 'Still a long way to go,' she said softly.
'Yes,' Severus replied, staring at her, 'but at least I've made a start...' He followed her gaze down to see Corvus settling onto the handle of his garden fork, cawing loudly.
She smiled brightly. 'Any news on the key?'
'No, not really, I'm afraid. According to my new... valet, Corvus just keeps repeating, 'Not yet time’.'
'Is that all?'
'What do you expect? He's only a raven.'
Hermione giggled. 'Betty said you should try the Bloody Baron.'
'Already have. He wasn't terribly forthcoming, either. I think he recognised it, though.'
'Well, I suppose that's progress...' She sighed. 'You know, I think I may have been wrong about Betty.'
He smirked at her admission. 'So, you'll reinstate her?'
'I've found a compromise.' Hermione smirked back. 'Gary objected to the painting, so I'm going to commission a new home for Betty without the bloody heart. She's agreed to being re-housed—'
Severus started laughing.
'What's so funny?'
'She's been after a change of scene for years, didn't she tell you?'
If she didn't know better, Hermione would have thought she'd been the victim of some Slytherin plot.
Severus was still grinning. 'You know... the fork in the heart was an artistic embellishment— she never actually ate it.'
'But even so, she did rip it out of her first kill—while it was still beating.' Hermione grimaced. 'And it was her husband's, for Merlin's Sake!'
'Indeed.' There was no denying it. 'Did she tell you he'd been cheating on her for years? She always said, he'd torn her heart out; it seemed only fair for him to suffer the same fate.'
A thought occurred to her. 'Severus... Is Betty still... erm, undead?’
His upper lip twitched slightly. 'You don't expect me to give away all of Slytherin's secrets, now, do you?'
Hermione's eyes widened.
'Well... Thank you for the tea.' Severus shifted his weight on the sill, getting ready to jump. 'I suppose I'd better be getting back to it.'
'What? Wait... I want to know about Betty...'
He paused, appearing to give her demand due consideration. 'All right. Come and help me in the lab tonight, and I'll think about it.'
'Tonight?' Her face fell. 'Sorry. I can't, not tonight.'
HGSS
The garden seemed to have lost all appeal, and Severus couldn't drum up any interest in his research, either.
Gary Burbage. She was out with Gary sodding Burbage.
Severus chucked back a large tumbler of whisky and flopped into his chair.
'Am I disturbing you?'
'Yes, but that's never stopped you before.' He pinched the bridge of his nose. 'What do you want, Minerva?'
'She likes you, you know.'
'Who does?'
'Severus...' Minerva expertly swatted a swarm of midges. 'Hermione would rather be with you—she told me.'
'How the Headmistress spends her Sunday evenings is no concern of mine.'
'Idiots—the pair of you. I don't know why I bother.'
‘I don't, either.' Severus scowled at the former headmistress. 'So stop interfering.'
'You could do a lot worse,' Minerva continued regardless, 'as could Hermione. I'd really hate to see her devote her whole life to this pile of stones and end up like me.'
'What makes you think I...' He shook his head. 'No, she's better off with someone her own age.'
'Och, Severus...'
'Enough, Minerva.'
'Pining for something you never had is far safer than taking a risk on a living woman, isn't it?'
'I said that's enough!'
11. A Bit of a Dilemma.
Hermione said a hurried goodnight to Gary in the Entrance Hall. Judging by the look of disappointment on his face, he'd been expecting something more, but Hermione hadn't even looked back. She had been right to suggest drinks in the Three Broomsticks, she thought wearily, stepping onto the spiral staircase. It had been an informal, not-quite-a-date, a way of testing the waters to see if she wanted to take things further. And now, after a few hours in Gary's company, Hermione was absolutely sure that she did not. It had felt awkward: the conversation forced, stilted, and mostly about work.
Yawning, Hermione closed the door to her quarters and hung up her cloak. The evening had started off okay, but when they'd veered off the subject of reforming Slytherin house, it soon became apparent that Gary's favourite topic of conversation was himself. Time had dragged by after that, and she'd found herself wondering what Severus was doing and wishing she was helping him instead. Then, as they were leaving, she'd casually mentioned the commissioning of Betty's new painting and noticed a flash of annoyance cross Gary's face. He'd hidden it well, but not quickly enough. What was that all about?
She kicked off her shoes and lit the fire. Rubbing her arms briskly in the welcoming glow, Hermione frowned in consternation, unable to shake the nagging suspicion she was being manipulated. Why was Gary opposed to reinstating Betty in a less offensive setting? Whatever the reason, Hermione's confidence in the man had suffered a blow. And she was normally such a good judge of character, too, but... had Gary's charm and flattering attention affected her objectivity? Hermione snorted in annoyance. Maybe Phineas...? No, she wasn't going down that road, but... from now on, she would be a lot more wary.
Later in her bedroom as she brushed out her hair, Hermione was still berating herself for being taken in by a pretty face. 'Stupid... stupid...'
'How did it go with Professor Burbage?'
Hermione jumped. 'It's late, Minerva, and I'm tired.'
'Not good, then, I take it.'
‘I don’t wish to discuss it.’
'Well,' Minerva pressed on regardless, 'if the object was to make Severus jealous, you've succeeded. He hit the whisky again.'
Hermione groaned. 'That's not why...' She walked over to the window and peered out. There didn't seem to be any lights on in Severus' apartments. 'Is he okay?'
'His elf put him to bed.' Minerva sighed. 'Hermione, I would generally advise you against mixing business with pleasure—'
'I know, I know. Spare me the lecture. It won't happen again.'
'I was about to say that Severus is different. He knows what it's like to be in your shoes. He understands, and he does care for you, but if you're expecting him to come crawling, you'll have a long wait.'
Hermione shook her head. 'I don't want him to crawl. I just want him to be sure it's me he wants. Iwant to be sure it's me he wants.'
'For Merlin's sake! What will it take...' Minerva counted to ten. 'Do you know how many heads teachers have died in that bed alone and unloved? And more importantly, do you want to be the next one?'
'No, I...' It wasn't something Hermione wanted to dwell on.
'Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, my girl. Hogwarts is your job. Not your life—and get some sleep. You look exhausted.'
Too tired to argue, Hermione was soon snuggled down in the bed where Severus had once slept, dreaming of knot-gardens, rosebuds and a man with the biggest trowel she'd ever seen.
~HGSS~
Approaching the Head Table for breakfast, Severus noted with no small satisfaction that Hermione, who had her nose stuck in the Prophet, was largely ignoring Burbage's attempts to draw her into a conversation.
A bowl of steaming porridge appeared as he slid into the seat on Hermione's left. Bile rose in his throat as the smell of food hit his nostrils.
''Morning, Severus,' said Hermione, putting her paper down.
Severus grunted a reply and picked up his spoon.
'You look a bit peaky. Are you not feeling well?'
'I'll survive.'
His liver screamed in protest at such a rash pronouncement.
Despite a double dose of hangover potion, Severus was still feeling rather delicate. He tried to force down a spoonful of porridge.
'If you need help in the lab,' Hermione said, a bit too cheerily for his liking, 'I'm free this evening.'
Turning towards her, his prepared caustic remark froze on his tongue when he saw her concerned face.
He swallowed. 'Thank you, no. I need to go to London for supplies, and—'
'I'm having lunch with my parents,' Hermione interrupted. 'I can return via Diagon Alley, no problem.'
Later that evening, Hermione was beginning to regret her offer of help as she dissected the wings off yet another Chinese horned dung-beetle. 'This is just like being in detention,' she grumbled.
'You wanted to help.' He scanned his notes once more.
'This was what put me off Potions as a career, you know.' Hermione wrinkled her nose up in disgust as she ground the beetles to a paste in the mortar and pestle. 'At least with Arithmancy, all you get on your hands is ink.'
'Really?' He looked surprised. 'You hid your revulsion well in class, I must say.'
Hermione grinned. 'I saw how you treated the squeamish. I wasn't about to let that happen to me.'
'Are you sure you want to stay?' Severus smirked back. 'No doubt Professor Burbage could find you a more... pleasant task.'
'We-ell...' She pretended to consider it. 'On the whole, I think I'd rather be up to my elbows in beetle goo.'
'That bad, eh?'
Hermione didn't bother answering and carried on pounding. It was strange, really, but there was nothing awkward about the silence, no need to fill it with meaningless small-talk. She looked up to find Severus looming over her.
'Hair,' he murmured, tucking a stray lock behind her ear. 'You should know by now to tie it out of the way.' Severus hesitated a moment before cupping her cheek. 'Hermione...'
Her breath caught at the look of intense longing he gave her, and she wanted nothing more than to lean into his touch, however...
Gently, she peeled his hand away from her face but kept hold of it. 'Severus, if you were to cast your Patronus, what form would it take?'
His expression darkened abruptly and he pulled away. 'Leave. There is no more to be done here tonight.'
'I disagree.'
Unperturbed, Hermione stepped towards him. 'So you know, I care about you. Very much.' She placed her palm on Severus' chest. 'If you ever find room for me in here, talk to me. I'm not going anywhere.' She stood up on tip-toe and kissed his cheek.
The Bloody Baron chose that moment to float through the wall. Glancing at the scene, he moved quickly across the room and disappeared up the chimney.
'Has he mentioned the key?'
'No,' Severus replied, touching his cheek. 'But I expect news of our... liaison will be all around the castle by morning.'
12. So that’s where it goes.
Summer Term. Quidditch. The House Cup. A sense of eager anticipation for the summer holidays, combined with the dread of impending exams, was hanging in the air. Stressed out fifth and seventh years, realising that their O.W.Ls and N.E.W.ts were approaching at an alarming speed, wore worried frowns of concentration while attempting to cram several years-worth of study into a few short weeks. And in the background, the teachers—part of the scenery, a necessary evil, whose only purpose in life was to pile on the pressure until their brains exploded, not people with worries and yearnings of their own.
The boys struggling with raging hormones, hair sprouting in peculiar places and voices they could no longer trust, wrestled with the mystery that was girls and yet had no inkling that the dour professor with the bad hair and the beaky nose was suffering comparable agonies. The girls huddled together in giggling groups on Hogsmeade High Street paid little or no attention to their Headmistress smiling at Professor Snape for holding the door open for her at Scrivenshaft's, or the way he gently steered her inside, or their animated conversation when they emerged from the shop a few moments later.
The same could not be said for the portraits and ghosts of Hogwarts castle, for whom Hermione and Severus' obvious attraction to one another was the hottest topic of conversation. The former heads of Hogwarts, in particular, had plenty to say on the subject—when Hermione was safely out of earshot, of course.
'... conduct unbecoming a headmistress of this school.'
'Fiddlesticks, Armando.' Dilys Derwent's silver ringlets swung violently as she shook her head. 'This could be the making of both of them.'
'Romantic drivel,' Albus muttered. 'If the governors get wind of this—'
'They won't. Unless you tell them.'
'Save your breath, Dilys.' Minerva sighed. 'You may as well talk to the wall. Now, are you ready? It's getting late.'
'Almost. I'll just get my bag...'
'You don't fool me you, you old goat,' Phineas said once the witches had left. 'You're loving this, aren't you?'
'Can you blame me?' Albus chuckled. 'I haven't had this much fun in years—and Dilys has a point. If Hermione does decide to take Severus on, he won't know what hit him.'
'Severus is no pushover.' Phineas glared at Albus. 'He's more than a match for Hermione.'
'Care to wager on that?'
~HGSS~
Frowning, Minerva rearranged the hand in front of her.
Betty called spades.
'Any news on our two lovebirds?' the Fat Lady asked, leading with a five of hearts.
Minerva snorted, following suit. 'None.'
'She entertains him in her private chambers, you know,' said Dilys. 'Drives Armando potty.'
'I've no idea why that should be—since nothing improper happens,' Minerva was quick to emphasise. 'All they ever do is talk.'
'Sir Nicholas said—'
'Don't believe a word he tells you.' Betty threw a card down and smiled at Minerva. 'And I think it's rather sweet. Like a proper courtship should be.'
Minerva was visibly shocked. 'You approve of a Gryffindor?'
'I like Hermione,' Betty replied. 'And they'll come to their senses, eventually. Have faith. Now, whose turn is it?'
'Um... mine.' Dilys studied her cards. 'Any news on your new home, by the way?'
'Almost ready, I believe.'
'You know you're always welcome to stay with me.' Dilys added the two of spades to the pile.
'You're most generous.' Betty trumped the lot and gathered the cards towards her. 'That broom cupboard reminds me far too much of my coffin.'
The others shuddered, thankful that was one memory they'd been spared.
'I'm just glad Hermione had the sense not to get involved with Professor Burbage,' Minerva said hastily, anxious to change the subject.
The Fat Lady began dealing the cards. 'Ye-ess... way too smooth for my liking...'
'Definitely.' Dilys nodded in agreement. 'I can't put my finger on it exactly, but... Something's off there. Definitely.'
Betty looked up sharply. 'What did you say, Dilys?'
'I said there's— Betty, dear. Are you all right?'
'I'm fine, thank you. I've just remembered something...'
The others looked at her expectantly.
'Oh, I don't suppose it's terribly important.' Betty shrugged. 'It can wait until tomorrow.'
~HGSS~
She was doing it again. Slowly winding the quill feather though her fingers while checking her calculations. The way she was nibbling her lip was damned annoying, too. And did she have to lean over the desk like that?
It had been weeks now. Weeks of utter torture. Of course, she wasn't flaunting herself deliberately. It was all quite innocent—he knew that, but it didn't make it any easier or make him want her any less. Two steps. That's all it would take, and he would be behind her, scrunching up her skirts, burying himself up to the hilt...
Turning her head slightly, Hermione gave him a weak smile before returning to her Arithmantic problem. Seeing her so distracted hauled Severus' thoughts out of the gutter.
'Governors giving you a hard time?'
She nodded, not looking up.
'Hermione...'
'Hmm?'
'Come here. Please.'
She frowned. 'Why?'
'I want to hold you. Please.'
Two steps and she was in his arms, head tucked under his chin. 'Do you want to tell me what happened?'
'Oh...' She sighed against his chest. 'They didn't think much of my idea to abolish the Sorting, that's all.'
Severus chuckled softly. 'And you find that surprising?'
'It's not like I suggested doing away with the houses.' She huffed. 'That wouldn't be practical. I just don't see why a child's future should be decided by a hat. It's a nonsense.'
'It's tradition.'
Hermione twisted around to glare up at him. 'It's completely arbitrary! Take me, for instance. My marks were consistently higher than any Ravenclaw in my year; I'm loyal and I'm ambitious. And you. You're the bravest, most intelligent, most loyal man I know. Why not sort the first-years alphabetically? It would make just as much sense.'
'Hermione... You're trying to change too much too soon.'
It would have been too easy to point out it was Hermione's inability to see the shades of grey in any given situation, together with her unswerving conviction that she always knew best, which marked her out as a Gryffindor. But she was in his arms, holding him tight, and he wasn't about to spoil the moment. Nothing he said could ever change her, anyway, which was absolutely fine by him.
'I knew you'd take their side.' She was staring at him accusingly.
Severus shook himself out of his reverie. 'On the contrary, I think your suggestion merits due consideration.'
'Really? I never thought I'd ever hear you say that.' Hermione put her head on his chest again, and Severus' heart speeded up a little.
'Yes, well... I think you'll find that I am... not quite so resistant to change as you might think.'
Hermione inhaled sharply. 'No?'
'No... I....' He swallowed. 'Tradition will always have its place, but one should always be... open to new ideas.'
'Are you trying to tell me something, Severus?' Hermione asked, raising her head once more.
'Subtlety... Thy name is Gryffindor...'
'Oh...'
'A-hem.' A hollow cough overhead made them spring apart.
'It is time.'
'Time for what?' Severus asked somewhat tetchily.
The Bloody Baron ignored him. Floating towards the fireplace, he stopped and hovered, pointing a ghostly finger at something.
Glancing at each other, Hermione and Severus crossed the room to join him.
'There, Snape. Your wand.'
'Very well... If you insist.' Severus touched his wand to the wall under the ghost's watchful eye. 'Now what?'
A second later, scraping and rumbling, the stones rearranged themselves to form an archway. Without looking back, the Baron passed though.
'Well, I wasn't expecting that,' said Hermione.
'Indeed not. Shall we?'
She mock bowed. 'After you.'
Lumos!
The passageway, though vaulted, was a bit on the low side, and Severus and Hermione had to stoop as they walked. Narrow shafts of light punctured the darkness at intervals, but they were glad of the wand-light nonetheless—if only to avoid walking into the cobwebs that were strung across their path.
Severus stopped abruptly causing Hermione to bump into him.
'What is it?' she asked.
'A door...' Severus fished in his pocket and produced the golden key. 'If this leads where I think it does...' It was a perfect fit. The lock clicked; Severus lifted the latch and pushed.
Perplexed, Hermione followed a grinning Severus up the spiral staircase. Reaching a landing, Severus picked the first door on his left, which opened into a lofty, formal hall. As they looked around in wonder, the fire roared to life of its own accord.
'No one's been here in years,' Hermione muttered, noticing the dust-covered tapestries. 'Not even the elves. Where are we?'
'Shall I tell her or will you?'
Hermione spun around and stared, open-mouthed, at the portrait above the fireplace. Even without the locket around his neck, she'd have recognised him anywhere.
'Headmistress.' He bowed. 'Welcome to Slytherin Tower.'
13. Faded Grandeur.
A thousand questions running through her head, and Hermione could only stare.
'Sir...' Severus broke the silence, gesturing around him. 'Why now?'
Hermione blinked. 'Yes, yes... And... have you been here all this time... alone?'
Stroking his beard thoughtfully, Salazar Slytherin gazed at them. 'To answer your question, Snape, the time is right, and... Headmistress, I believe that I appeared here shortly after my... demise. Few know of my existence, but I am not without company.' He turned his head at the sound of beating wings. 'Am I Caradog?' Landing gracefully on Salazar's shoulder, the raven nipped his ear affectionately.
'Is that...?'
Severus nudged Hermione as Salazar looked at her disdainfully. 'Of course not,' he hissed. 'Use your brain.'
'Right. How would a live bird get into a painting...?' Throwing her hands up, Hermione walked over to one of the large mullioned windows, trying to gather her wits. Slytherin Tower... That was confusing enough. She remembered Severus mentioning its existence, but she hadn't paid much attention, thinking it had disappeared—as in been demolished and not hidden from sight—centuries ago. Looking through the leaded glass, Hermione confirmed its aspect: facing due south, to capture the best of the sun.
Severus and Salazar watched Hermione taking in her surroundings. The room was certainly imposing, with its high ceilings, panelled walls and large refectory table, even if it was sadly neglected.
'The elves'll think Christmas has come early,' Hermione murmured, examining the moth-eaten tapestries. 'Impressive. This is some common room, sir.'
'Common room?' Salazar spluttered. 'This is my—that is, my Head of House's—reception hall! The entrance to the dormitories is down the corridor.'
'Really...?' Hermione smiled. 'Your apartments must have rivalled the Headmaster's in their day.'
'Rivalled and excelled,' Salazar replied. 'But then, Godric always had rather... plebeian tastes.'
Hermione's smile froze. 'Perhaps the safety of Muggle-borns was a more pressing concern for him,' she ground out. 'And at least he didn't leave when the going got tough... A Slytherin trait, incidentally, that survives to this day!'
'Hermione! That was uncalled for.'
'No, she's right, Snape.' Salazar smoothed his familiar's plumage and sighed. 'I've witnessed many changes down the years—Caradog, here, keeps a keen watch from the paintings for me—no one takes any notice of a raven sitting in the background, you see—and I, too, have been saddened and embarrassed by Slytherin’s... attitude in recent times...'
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. 'That is behind us now—'
'It still needs to be said.' Salazar inclined his head towards Hermione. 'My apologies, Professor Granger. There were fewer Muggle-borns in my day. Not enough to be worried about. But I have observed your numbers increase, and I am enough of a pragmatist to realise it is better to bring them into the fold and train them here than leave them to their own devices and run the risk of our world coming under attack.'
Hermione nodded. 'Apology accepted. So... why have you brought us here? Why now?'
'A good question,' Salazar replied. 'And one I cannot answer. The key was to be delivered to Slytherin's Head of House on my orders or, in the event of my death, when a compelling need arose.' He turned to Severus. 'You know the quarters under the lake were only ever intended as a short-term solution—to stop Godric from sticking his oar in while I was gone, mainly—but the time has evidently come for my house to return to the home originally built for it.'
'But Severus isn't Head of Slytherin.'
Salazar looked down his nose at Hermione. 'Exactly.'
'Now, what does that tell you, Headmistress, hmm?' Salazar asked, tapping his fingers together impatiently. 'What can you deduce from that, eh?'
Hermione's frown deepened as she considered the implications of Salazar's question. 'You're either inferring Professor Burbage wasn't fit to receive the key, or that the Raven did not recognise his status,' she said quietly.
'I am.'
Head bowed, Hermione stared into the fire, finally accepting that something, somewhere, was terribly wrong. But with no solid evidence, she could hardly start flinging accusations around—seeing as Gary hadn't actually done anything.
Hermione sighed. 'What do you suggest I do?'
'We have no proof of any wrongdoing,' Severus said, echoing her thoughts. 'I therefore advise caution while further investigations are made.'
'Time may be of the essence, however,' Salazar offered, 'but as guardian of the key, the decision to reveal the Tower's existence is yours, Snape.'
Hermione's head snapped up at that. 'What?'
'Didn't I tell you?' Salazar smirked. 'The tower is still invisible to the outside world. The enchantment will only be broken if you leave via the main exit. Go back the way you came, locking the door behind you, and no one will be any the wiser.'
Severus didn't like the way Hermione was nibbling her bottom lip.
'Um-um. O-okay,' she stammered. 'That would probably be for the best. I'll have to order a structural survey to ensure the tower's safe for habitation first, anyway. And, er, with exams this close, it would be far too much of a disruption in any case— No. Without a good reason, I see no need to rush into this. We'll take our time and aim to have everything ready for the new school year.'
Salazar glanced at Severus, who shook his head imperceptibly. 'That is of course your prerogative, Headmistress.'
'Well,' Hermione said brightly, 'if that's everything... It's getting late, and I have work to do.' She turned to leave. 'Severus...?'
'It was a pleasure meeting you,' Severus said, bowing formally. 'Until we meet again.'
Salazar bowed in turn. 'Indeed. And I suspect it will be sooner rather than later...'
As soon as the door closed behind them, Salazar slumped back in his chair. He could do no more.
'Have they gone?' said a voice to his left.
'Yes, my beloved.' Reaching out his hand, Salazar pulled Betty into his lap. 'And you were right. She is a stubborn one.'
Betty smiled. 'I did warn you...' Sighing, she leaned her head on his shoulder. 'I'll miss having the tower all to ourselves, but I'll be glad when the enchantment's broken—for your sake.'
'It’s been a long exile,' Salazar agreed. 'Only made bearable these last four centuries by your presence, Elizabeth. It was a blessed day when Caradog led you here.'
'But soon you'll have your pick of the portrait ladies,' Betty whispered, toying with his locket.
Salazar stilled her hand, covering it with is own. 'I already have.'
'Charmer,' she murmured.
'Hmm... Ouch! Watch your fangs, old girl.'
'Sorry...'
~ HGSS ~
Once the archway had sealed itself, Hermione rounded on Severus. 'Sometimes I wonder if I'm fit for this job,' she snapped.
'Of course—'
'I mean, my judgment is obviously suspect, the castle hides things from me, and Slytherin house is doing its own thing as per usual.'
'Hermione, calm—'
'And back there, I was made to feel like a ten-year-old—by a bloody portrait! A portrait which obviously doesn't give two hoots about my position in this school.' She paused to draw breath, glaring at him.
'So what are you yelling at me for?'
'Because... because... Oh, I don't know.'
Arms akimbo, Hermione tapped her foot agitatedly. 'Guardian of the key,' she muttered.
The tapping stopped, and Severus braced himself. 'Please don't take this the wrong way...'
Oh, shit.
'I trust you with my life, but I need to know where your loyalty lies. With Slytherin or with Hogwarts?'
'Good God, woman. Is that what all this is about?'
'Don't be angry. Please,' Hermione said, stepping towards him. 'Just tell me. In a crisis, who would you support. Me or Salazar?'
Severus took her hands in his. 'Above all else, my loyalty is to you. As Headmistress and my... friend.'
Hermione nodded and smiled. 'That's good to hear.'
Severus tried to pull her closer, but she resisted. 'Tomorrow, we'll talk tomorrow. After all that's happened, I need time to think.'
'May I escort you back?' he asked hopefully, releasing her hands.
'No, I'll Floo.' She reached for the pot of Floo powder and scooped out a handful. 'Oh, and shall I ask the elves to see you about cleaning our newest addition to the castle?'
'I think that would be wise.'
'Well, then... Goodnight, Severus.'
'Goodnight...'
Kicking the empty hearth in frustration, Severus cursed his luck. 'Tomorrow... Always. Bloody. Tomorrow.’