The Burning Pen

A New Beginning
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 15

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 15 ~ The Initial Conversation

“Leave it to you to put a million questions into one word,” Snape responded, his eyes leveled on the witch.

Hermione had filled out, age and motherhood maturing her. Her face was rounder as was her body, not a bad thing really considering she had been a bit on the thin side at Hogwarts. But those amber eyes were still inquisitive and sharp.

”I presume you want to know why I hid myself,” he continued.

Hermione wanted to say, “That’s a start,” but merely nodded.

”The answer is quite simple. After years of servitude, Mrs. Weasley, I wanted out. I wanted to be under the thumb of no one but myself. No Albus Dumbledore. No Lord Voldemort. No Hogwarts. I saw a chance at liberty and took it,” the wizard said.

“But Professor, no one knew your true role, and you gave no one a chance to thank you,” Hermione said.

Snape looked at her incredulously.

”Thank me? Thank me for what, Mrs. Weasley? For helping the wizarding world’s most brutal despot come into power? Or for getting Lily Potter killed?” he asked her, scowling. “You like most people have the mistaken idea that I did something noble, when in fact, I was cleaning up my own mess. It was my potion that made Voldemort as strong as he was, and my intelligence that got Harry Potter’s mother killed and the boy targeted. I did nothing but try to ease my own conscience.”

Hermione stared at him. Was that all the Professor thought that he accomplished?

“But Professor, without you, Voldemort could never have been killed,” she said to him plaintively. How could he believe he wasn’t a hero?

”Without me, Voldemort would never have risen to the level of power he did. Without me, thousands would not have died. This is why I disappeared, Mrs. Weasley, because of people like you who have a warped sense of what heroism is. By rights, I should either be in Azkaban or dead for my part in all of this,” Snape said, “Still, I corrected what I could and cling to my life . . . for what it is.”

Hermione couldn’t believe this.

“It’s your thinking that’s warped, Professor. You may have made some errors in judgment when you were younger, but you suffered terribly to protect Harry and bring about Voldemort’s downfall. You became a hunted man in order to fulfill Dumbledore’s last wishes. Even when Voldemort attempted to kill you, all you wanted to do was find and protect Harry,” Hermione said, “You were dedicated, Professor. You were willing to give up your life for Harry, for all of us.”

Snape looked at her then leapt out of the chair, his face terrible.

“I only wanted revenge, Mrs. Weasley. My motives were purely selfish! This is why I hid myself away. I don’t want the praises and accolades that you and others want to so badly give me. I am not, nor have I ever been a damn hero!” he snarled at her, his robes billowing as he paced.

Suddenly he stopped and looked at Hermione, wrestling his emotions under control.

”I suppose now you will reveal my whereabouts to the wizarding world,” he said quietly, “Throw me into the seething cauldron of notoriety and celebration that I so desperately do not want to be embroiled in, showing the world how clever you were in discovering me in the process. How Gryffindorish.”

Hermione scowled at the wizard even thinking she would try and cash in on him in that manner. Professor Snape had always made it clear he believed those of Gryffindor house were attention-seekers.

“With all the clues you left, even a first year could have figured it out, Professor,” Hermione retorted, “You didn’t hide yourself very well. From the wizarding world at large, yes, but not from someone who knows you. You gave yourself away, Professor. I wasn’t actively looking for you. I believed you dead. When you saved Hugo, that is when you revealed who you were. When you said what you did, and when you flew. The only other wizard that I know of that could fly without a broom was Voldemort. Then all the anagrams. If you had hired anyone other than me, Professor, you would have remained a secret. Which makes me wonder if deep down, you didn’t want to be discovered,” Hermione said to him.

“Of course I didn’t,” he snapped at her, “I simply wanted an employee who was up to the job.”

”Oh and that was me after nineteen years of homemaking, Professor,” Hermione said sarcastically, “I was just brimming over with potential.”

Snape frowned at her.

“You get the work done, don’t you? I wasn’t wrong about that,” he said evenly, sitting back down. “Besides, you needed the work to support your family after Mr. Weasley’s death.”

Hermione stared at him and Snape looked away from her.

“You hired me to help me. To help me and my family, Professor,” she said softly.

Snape looked back at her, his lip curled with disdain.

”I hired you because I saw an opportunity to get a brilliant witch in a bind to work for me,” he declared, “Why do you Gryffindors always try to put a noble spin on every cursed act? It’s annoying!”

”And thank you for saving my son,” Hermione said, her eyes glistening a little.

”I saved him because I didn’t want Aurors climbing all over my site, investigating the boy’s death,” the wizard said, “It would have been an inconvenience. Besides, you would have stopped working to see about his burial arrangements.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows for a moment as she looked at the wizard, who met her gaze steadily, then shook her head and stood up.

“All right. I give up, Professor. You are a selfish, incorrigible bastard who cares nothing for anyone but himself and only acts when it’s in his own self-interest,” she said, turning and heading for the kitchen.

”That is correct, Mrs. Weasley. Now you know the truth of it,” the wizard called after her as she disappeared through the kitchen door.

Snape heard cabinets opening and dishes clinking. After a moment he called to her again.

“What are you doing, Mrs. Weasley?” he called.

Hermione was in the cooler, taking out a few cakes.

”I am preparing some tea and cakes, Professor. I imagine after twenty years of nothing but a house elf and Bartleby for companionship, you could use a bit of respite. How do you like your tea?” she asked him.

Snape sat there and scowled for a minute, then his face relaxed a bit as he resigned himself to the situation.

“Like my life,” he replied, “Without accouterments.”

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Snape listened as Hermione told him about Harry and his family.

”He named his second son after you and Dumbledore,” Hermione informed him, “Albus Severus Potter.”

Snape pinched his nose.

“Good gods. I have a Potter named after me?” he said, then smirked unpleasantly. “I only wish James was alive so he could die again from shock and horror.”

Hermione frowned at the wizard as he took another sip of tea, but said nothing. His hatred of Lily’s husband hadn’t seemed to have eased over the passing years.

“You know, Professor,” she ventured, “It would be good if Harry could see you again. It would give him closure. He never got that.”

Snape scowled over his cup at her.

“Closure? I gave him closure when I shared my memories with him,” the wizard snapped.

“No. You only gave him guilt. He hated you all those years when he shouldn’t have,” the witch said, “He never had the chance to thank you.”

Snape sighed.

“Again with the unnecessary thank yous?” he snarked, “Leave it to a Gryffindor to take what should have been the end of a matter and turn it into personal guilt to garner sympathy. No. I don’t want to see him.”

“Well, I’m going to tell him you’re alive,” Hermione said firmly, “I can’t keep something like this from him.”

Snape put his cup down.

”Why not just go to the Daily Prophet? The news will spread faster,” the wizard said sarcastically.

“Harry’s not like that. He won’t tell anyone,” Hermione assured the wizard.

”No, but then he will start sniffing about, trying to see me, Mrs. Weasley. As I said, I don’t want to see him. All that could possibly have passed between us already has. There is nothing more to say,” the wizard said.

“Harry will respect that,” Hermione said, “He’ll just be glad to know you survived.”

Snape doubted it. Harry was headstrong and impulsive as a youth. The dark wizard had no reason to think he had changed any. But Hermione would do what she wanted.

”Do what you must, Mrs. Weasley. My days as a recluse are numbered no matter what I do to try and preserve them,” he said, rising, “I must go now. I have potions to attend to.”

Hermione rose.

“Where do you stay, Professor?” she asked him.

”Someplace inaccessible to others,” he replied rather pointedly.

”Is it on the grounds?” she asked him, knowing it had to be.

“It is . . . nearby, Mrs. Weasley. Now may I go, or do you wish to deluge me with a new round of questions and ruin my work?” he asked her, scowling.

“Oh no. No, Professor. I was just wondering . . .” she began.

Snape sighed.

“Of course you were. You are always wondering, Mrs. Weasley,” he said, frowning, “But tell me what has your brain percolating at this moment?”

”I . . . I was wondering that since I know you are here now, if we couldn’t possibly get together and talk about the project? It would be helpful if I knew exactly what you wanted,” the witch said.

Snape’s dark eyes rested on her for several moments.

”I will have Eli inform you when I can come by. Is that suitable?” he asked the witch.

Hermione smiled.

“Yes. Yes it is, Professor. Thank you,” she said.

Snape studied her again.

”Good day, Mrs. Weasley,” he said, turning and exiting the apartment, closing the door behind him.

Presently the female voice spoke.

“Professor Severus Snape leaving the premises. Wards down.”

Hermione began to clear the cups and plates away. She had tea and cakes with Professor Severus Snape, and not only that, she had his permission (sort of) to tell Harry he was alive. She hoped she was right in saying that Harry wouldn’t try to force himself on the Potions master. She had a feeling if he did, hexes would fly.

Ah well, she’d find out this weekend. She wouldn’t be able to hold it in longer than that.

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A/N: Thanks for reading. ***


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