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 25

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 25 ~ Nurturing the Fields


The next morning Hermione waited outside of the worksite for the Potions master to appear. The morning was bright and crisp, the trees beginning to turn, leaves of green, with hints of gold and red twirling and rustling in the limbs overhead. The air smelled particularly sweet, and Hermione’s mood was still rather happy as if inebriated from the over flux of intelligent conversation she had enjoyed the night before after such a long time.

Professor Snape strode through the woods, wearing two large satchels, pale in the sunlight, his expression sober as his dark eyes fell on the witch. She was dressed in robes, warmly enough for the day. She smiled as she saw him and his lip quirked slightly at the welcome in her eyes.

”Good morning, Professor,” Hermione sang out, her eyes drifting over the satchels strapped to him.

”Good morning, Hermione,” he replied, inclining his head at the witch. “Ready for a bit of a walk?”

”More than ready,” Hermione replied.

”Come along then. We have some ground to cover,” the wizard said. And they were off.

They walked in silence for the first ten minutes, keeping to the path until they came to the first area Hermione recognized as one that used to have a large “Keep Out” sign. Actually, it was where she was first covered in the sticky bubble gum-like substance and unceremoniously pulled back into the worksite.

“You had some . . . interesting protections around your fields, Professor,” Hermione ventured.

Snape looked at her sideways.

”Ah, the bubble gum. Yes. Well, I toned it down somewhat when you accepted the position. I remembered your tendency to break rules and adjusted my wards accordingly so only your pride would be injured rather than your body. The original wards were quite nasty and meant to disable intruders in a rather painful manner,” the wizard said, “and I wanted you to be able to start work immediately rather than spend several months recovering in St. Mungo’s.”

Hermione turned quite red when the wizard referred to her tendency to test rules. Well, it was a good thing he did. Hermione would have ended up in the hospital. Trying to show she wasn’t all bad, she referred to Rose and Hugo.

”At least I learned my lesson after the first experience. Hugo and Rose returned gum-covered several times,” the witch said.

Snape couldn’t help but give a short, quick smile.

”They . . . they may have had a bit of help with that,” the wizard admitted.

Walking beside him, Hermione drew her brows together. Help?

”Help? What kind of help?” Hermione asked him.

”Let’s just say they were more determined than you were when exploring my wards. They developed a way to test them to see if they were active by throwing objects over the ward line and seeing if they were affected in any way,” Snape said.

“Those little imps,” Hermione seethed, “You would have thought they learned their lesson after the first time.”

”They are their parents’ children, believe me, Hermione,” the wizard said, his lip quirking, “You and Mr. Weasley were quite determined to circumvent several rules when you were students. The fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree. In this case, I moved the ward lines back, so when they tested them, nothing happened and they believed the wards were down.”

Hermione’s mouth formed an “O.”

”Oh, you didn’t, Professor!” she exclaimed.

”I’m afraid their reappearance at the worksite covered in gum proves I did, Hermione. It was quite . . . entertaining,” the wizard said, “And I noticed your son Hugo didn’t seem to mind it at all.”

Hermione shook her head.

“No, he loved it. He always said how cool it was, even when I punished him for it,” she said, “But Professor, that was terrible to do to them.”

”Think of it as a learning experience,” Snape replied, “Things are not always the way they appear. The children learned to continue checking the ward lines even when they appeared down, thus avoiding any further gumminess. They learned, Hermione. I am still . . . a teacher.”

“Yes, you are . . . but I think you were thinking of your own entertainment rather than schooling my children,” Hermione scowled at him, trying not to smile.

It really was pretty funny.

“There was some entertainment value, yes,” Snape admitted, turning to the right, Hermione following him. After walking over a rise, Hermione saw a cleared area, a harvested field. The earth was a rich, reddish color.

“This soil looks interesting,” the witch said, kneeling and letting it run through her fingers as Snape removed his satchels and set them down. He opened one and took out two small baggies, then his wand. He touched the tip to each of them and enlarged them so they both contained about five pounds of powder.

“Yes. I grow my Jaberia plants in this field. I am going to treat it now. By spring it will be ready for planting,” he said, handing Hermione a bag.

Hermione looked at it, then up at him.

”I’m afraid I had ulterior motives for asking you to accompany me, Hermione. I figured you would be just as helpful here as you were with the collecting of the fungi,” he said.

“I should have known,” Hermione said, smirking.

Actually she was glad she was going to help the wizard with his work.

”Start at the opposite end of the field and evenly spread the fertilizer over the soil until we meet. Try to use all of it,” Snape said, striding away.

The field was rather large and it took about an hour to spread the fertilizer, which reacted with the soil, turning it almost black as the nutrients sunk in. This was a good indicator of how much coverage was needed and the pair got the work done admirably.

Snape stood at the head of the field, approval in his eyes.

”Good work,” he said to Hermione, who returned the empty bag to him, “I believe you would have made a good farmer, Hermione.”

“Thanks a lot,” the witch replied, “But I think this would become quite tedious and mindless after a while.”

Snape put away the bag and hoisted the satchels again, wrapping them around him.

“To one who doesn’t have a love of Potions, yes, I imagine it could quickly become quite boring. But for me, this is part of the process and I find it rewarding work. What I grow here is very potent and powerful. The best of the best,” he said with a bit of pride. “My ingredients could claim top galleon if sent to market. As of now only a small amount is actually sold. Hopefully your work will help me to increase my production,” the wizard said as he began walking again.

They took care of two more fields before the Professor suggested they stop for lunch.

Hermione was quite hungry and agreed. They stopped at the edge of the next field and the Professor produced a large blanket from the other satchel and gave it to Hermione to spread, then two containers containing bread, cold chicken and potato salad, and two bottles of water. He handed a container and a bottle of water to Hermione, then they both settled on the blanket and began to eat.

The first five minutes was spent in silence, the pair taking the edge off their hunger and thirst, then Hermione engaged the wizard.

”When you actually plant, Professor, do you use magic to cultivate your crop?” Hermione asked.

”Only with the watering,” the wizard replied, “As far as weeding and aerating the earth, I’ve found that the plants respond better to hands-on care. They are living things after all, and everything living responds to care.”

Hermione blinked at the wizard, unable to believe this statement came out of the mouth of one of the coldest wizards she had ever known. But no. Professor Snape wasn’t cold. That was the perception they all had of him back at Hogwarts. For years, he did all he could against the Dark Lord because of his love of Harry Potter’s mother. Even after she was dust, he worked tirelessly to protect her son. He had done that because he loved her and continued to love her up to the time of his purported death. More than likely beyond that as well. Hermione thought about Harry and decided she needed to tell the wizard about the oath he had taken swearing to help him.

“Um, Professor, I need to tell you something I don’t think is going to please you, but you have a right to know,” Hermione said to him.

Snape rested his eyes on her for a moment as he chewed a mouthful of potato salad. He swallowed.

”Go ahead, Hermione,” the wizard said.

”When I told Harry about you being alive and how you didn’t want to see him, he took an oath to help you,” Hermione said haltingly, “A wizard’s oath.”

Snape looked at her, but said nothing.

”He said he wanted to bring you some peace, some closure. What I’m concerned with is he will never be able to be free of that oath. That it will torment him for the rest of his days,” the witch said.

Snape looked at her.

”There is no need to fear. Though Mr. Potter was as stupid and impulsive as ever when making such an oath concerning me, in this case . . . he met the requirement when he sent me the Resurrection Stone,” the wizard said quietly. “The oath has been fulfilled.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide.

”You found closure?” she asked the wizard.

“Of a sort,” the wizard replied.

Hermione was dying to know what happened but knew it was too personal to ask about directly. Snape didn’t seem as if he were going to offer any information as he bit into his chicken. Hermione decided maybe she’d share some of her own experience with the stone.

”You know, Professor, when you sent the stone back to me, I was examining it, and Ron appeared,” she said softly.

He looked at her, interested, but didn’t say anything.

”He . . . he told me I had made him very happy and that he was proud of me, proud that I found a way to keep going and to take care of our family,” the witch continued, her eyes beginning to glisten as she remembered their final meeting. “It was good to talk to him one last time. I was rather tempted to . . . to keep the stone and keep him here, but . . . but decided against it,” the witch said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Snape looked at her.

”It is hard to let go of the ones we love,” Snape said quietly, “A very human reaction, Hermione. What matters is that you did let him go.”

She looked at the wizard.

”Were you tempted to keep . . . to keep Lily here?” she asked, afraid she had overstepped her bounds. But she wanted to know.

Snape shook his head.

“No. I had always loved Lily from afar. I never consummated my love as you and Mr. Weasley did. She was already beyond me when she was killed, though my love for her had not lessened. You see, we were never meant for each other, Hermione. My love for her, the guilt I felt at her death and my need for revenge against her murderer was the driving force that led me to do what I had to do concerning Mr. Potter and Voldemort. Lily Evans never belonged to me. She was my . . . my motivation. That was all she was ever intended to be,” the wizard said softly, “So I couldn’t keep her with me. I had no inclination to do so. My one consolation was that she did love me in her way. Not as I wished, but in as pure a manner as possible,” the wizard said, his eyes distant.

Tears rolled down Hermione’s face.

”That, that seems so . . . so cruel, Professor. To love someone so much, someone who was never meant to be yours,” she gasped, her heart going out to the wizard.

”Life is cruel, Hermione,” the wizard replied, “Just as cruel as to take a beloved husband away while you were both still in the bloom of life and love. We have no guarantees when it comes to Life. We can only be thankful we have it and do our best to keep it and to live it.”

Hermione wiped her eyes and looked at him.

”We have to continue,” she said softly.

Snape nodded and looked up at the sky, watching the birds wheel by, chirping and darting between the trees chasing one another full of the joy of living their small, quick lives.

“Yes, we must continue,” he said, then began to gather up his container and bottle. Hermione handed her own containers to the wizard, who replaced them in the satchel.

”And at this moment, it’s time to continue in the fields,” he said, rising and offering the witch his hand.

Hermione took it and Snape pulled her up, then helped her gather up the blanket and fold it, then put that away as well.

”Let us go, Hermione. There’s work to do,” he said to the witch.

Together they made their way through the forest, each thinking his or her own thoughts.

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Sunday, Hermione went to Harry’s house and Professor Snape spent his day setting up for the next week’s work. His mind turned to Hermione from time to time, thinking he wanted to see her, just to talk.

“No. The witch needs her space,” the wizard said to himself as he checked his stores for ingredients.

He didn’t want to crowd her. It was as if all the years of solitude were weighing on him heavily, and the witch was a way to ease that weight. He had enjoyed her company this weekend. She was a good companion, and a hard worker. They had walked all over the forest and not once did she complain.

Having done all he could in his labs, he returned upstairs and walked into his bedroom. It was decorated quite sparsely. Nothing on the walls or floors, containing only a bed, a dresser, a wardrobe and a chair. There was a Master bathroom as well. He had only one decoration that sat on his nightstand. A framed, torn photograph of a smiling, red-haired woman. It was the picture of Lily he had taken from Grimmauld Place after tearing off the rest of it that contained James and Harry as a baby. He sat down on the bed and picked it up, studying it, running two pale fingers over her face, blinking down at the woman he had loved for all these years.

“Goodbye, Lily,” he breathed, then opened the drawer of his nightstand and carefully placed the photograph inside, closing it slowly, putting away forever a memory that haunted him for most of his life.

”We must continue,” the wizard breathed, laying down in the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

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”It helped him?” Harry asked the witch, delighted.

”Yes. He said he got closure, Harry. You did what you meant to do,” Hermione said to the wizard, who adjusted his glasses several times.

”What did he say?” Harry asked her.

”He didn’t say too much, only that he realized your mother was never meant to be his true love, only his motivation to stop Voldemort and protect you,” Hermione said softly.

Harry looked at her.

”You know Hermione, that’s so sad,” he said to the witch, who nodded.

“Yes, it is, Harry. But . . . that was his destiny. There’s nothing we can do about that,” she said, “At least you helped him. That’s what matters.”

”Yes, I guess there is that,” Harry said rather doubtfully.

”And . . . and I saw Ron too, Harry. I accidentally invoked him when Snape returned the stone to me. He said he was proud of me, and he said …” the witch began.

”He said what, Hermione?” Harry pressed.

”He said he wants me to find love, Harry. He doesn’t want me to be alone for the rest of my life,” she said, her eyes filling.

”Ron? He said he wants you to find love? Are you sure it was him, Hermione?” Harry asked her.

That certainly didn’t sound like Ron. He was as jealous as a dragon guarding his treasure when it came to Hermione. Even after years of marriage he used to swell up if a wizard even looked at her with interest.

“It was Ron all right. He said things were easier to see from the other side, and that love is important and life should be full of love. He doesn’t want me to waste my life or my love. He said, he said someone else could benefit from it,” Hermione said.

”The afterlife must mature people,” Harry said, shaking his head, “Our Ron would want you to go to the grave by yourself.”

”I don’t think so Harry. He loved me, he’d want me to be happy,” Hermione said, wiping at her eyes.

Harry stared at her.

”So, are you going to start dating?” he asked the witch.

“No! I’m not going looking for anyone, Harry. If something should develop naturally, I’ll take it from there,” Hermione said evenly.

Harry looked at her.

“How is anything going to develop ‘naturally’ if you don’t do anything but work and come here and to the Burrow. You’re going to have to get out and about, Hermione,” Harry said to her.

”Harry, Ron’s only been gone a little more than a year. I’m not ready to go out. Really, I don’t know anything about dating or things like that. I don’t want to look for anyone. I’m happy as I am right now,” the witch said.

Harry’s green eyes rested on her.

”If Ron said that to you, he probably wants you to start looking about,” the wizard said thoughtfully.

”No. Actually he said he wasn’t telling me to start hunting for anyone, just be willing to explore if I start developing feelings for anyone,” she said.

“But you can’t develop anything if you don’t go anywhere, Hermione!” Harry argued.

They argued for quite a long time before Hermione left, frustrated and irritated at Harry for trying to butt into a love life that didn’t exist. A love life she wasn’t ready to resurrect yet. She was still mourning Ron.

Harry listened to the sound of her apparition and scowled slightly.

Hermione was going to need some help, and he was just the wizard to help her.

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A/N: Wow. Nosy friends. Got to love ‘em. Nice connection with Snape though. Thanks for reading. ***

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