The Burning Pen

A Dark Scenario
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.

Disclaimer:  All HP characters are the property of JKR.  I make no $$$ from the writing of this fanfic.
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CHAPTER 8

Chapter 8 ~ Changes

As Hermione walked back out of the dungeons and headed up to the third floor to finish sorting the waiting parchments, some of the shock wore off. Severus really wasn't acting out of character at all. When she was with him, he had very little to say and didn't gracefully accept any form of thank yous, or even defending him when he did speak.

Hermione had tried to tell him on a number of occasions how brave she thought he was, and he'd respond by telling her to be quiet and that he didn't need her or anyone's praise for what he was doing.

"Just make me some tea," he'd snark.

He did like her tea.

Hermione entered the Charms classroom and groaned when she didn't see the parchments on the desk. Her first thought was the castle's House Elves had put them back into the file cabinet because they were always looking for "work."

With a sigh, she pulled open the file cabinet, prepared to take everything out again when she noticed that the first drawer was very neatly arranged and there were dividers, all in ascending alphabetical order.

"No," she breathed as she rifled through the spells. They were all alphabetized! Quickly, she opened the rest of the drawers. Yes, they were all alphabetized perfectly! Who did this? The elves? She quickly summoned one. You just had to call for an elf and one would wink in.

"Yes, Miss?" a little green creature squeaked from behind her. It had a long nose, bulbous brown eyes, bat-like ears and clasped its hands anxiously, waiting to be of service. It was wearing a tea towel like a poncho. The Hogwarts crest was on it.

Hermione turned around and looked down at it. The creature paled. It was Her. The one that had kept trying to give them clothes years ago.

It stepped back, looking at Hermione suspiciously as if she were going to whip out a pair of trousers and throw it at him. Hermione didn't know it, but she was something of a boogiewitch to the house elves. They often told their offspring when they were naughty that "Hermione Granger's going to clothe you if you don't watch out!"

She probably wouldn't like her legacy at all.

"Did the house elves sort my parchments for me last night?" she asked the creature.

It shook its head vigorously.

"No, Miss. We never touches parchments. They could be important," it said.

Hermione's brow wrinkled.

"Do you know who did it, then?" she inquired.

The house elf nodded.

"Yes, Miss."

Then it just stood there. Hermione frowned at it.

"Well, tell me who did it," she demanded, irritated.

"I can't do that, Miss. It's a secret. House elves keep secrets, Miss."

"Oh, honestly!" Hermione exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips and scowling down at the elf, who shrugged. "Oh, just go, then."

The elf happily winked away. All of the elves knew Hermione was in the castle, of course, not much got past them, but they didn't expect her to summon any of them since she didn't like to receive service. They'd all want to know what she wanted.

Hermione considered the possibilities. It couldn't have been Minerva, because she would have mentioned the parchments if she had done it. Hagrid was bright-eyed and bushy-bearded at the table, so it was doubtful he'd stayed up all night doing it. Filch was complaining about his arthritis, so he wouldn't have gone up and down the stairs. That left only one person.

Severus Snape.

But why would he do this? It would make no sense to try and ask him. He never revealed his motives, if he even had any. But Hermione was certain the dark wizard had come to her aid. It was quite nice really. Still, if she tried to thank him, she'd just get another door in the face. She stood there a moment, then hurried out of the classroom.

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As he was shelving his books, Snape heard a loud knock on his door and tried to ignore it. The pounding didn't stop. Scowling blackly, he climbed down the ladder and billowed into the Potions office. He yanked the door open, intending to startle who was out there.

There wasn't a person at the door, but a floating tray with a pot of tea and a few cakes on it. A folded note standing on the tray had "Thank You" neatly printed on it in Hermione's handwriting. Snape stepped out of the door and looked up and down the corridor, the scowl still on his face. He didn't see anyone.

The delicious scent of the tea filled his nostrils as he returned to the doorway and stared at the tray. Suddenly, he grabbed it out of the air, stepped back into the office and quickly closed the door.

Hermione melted into view, a smile on her face as she removed the Disillusionment spell. She had stood in a shadow and held her breath to keep from shimmering. She hurried back up the hall, still smiling.

Severus Snape might not like thank yous, but he certainly liked her tea.

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Hermione was seated in the Charms classroom, examining a few of Professor Flitwick's old syllabi, intending on using them as a template for her own lesson plan when she heard her name called. She looked up and frowned immediately.

Ron was standing in the door, holding a few slightly wilted flowers in one hand.

"Oi, Hermione," he said softly.

"I don't want to talk to you, Ron," she snapped.

"I know. I know. I just wanted to say I was sorry," Ron said, entering the classroom.

"Well, you've said it. And it's not enough, so please leave," she told him flatly.

Ron blinked at her, his eyes slightly wet.

"That's not all I wanted to say, Hermione. I said something really nasty to you, something horrible, and I'm sorry, but—but I'm hurting inside. You've got to realize that although what happened, happened to you, I had to watch it. I wasn't able to help you at all. I should have died trying to save you from that, but I didn't even try. I—I let it happen to you—because of me, Snape had you."

Hermione stared at Ron.

"I love you, Hermione—and it wasn't enough. I can't get it out of my head, Snape behind you just—just shagging you like a machine—everyone yelling and jeering as my heart was breaking—and I was too scared to do anything—"

Ron began to cry.

Hermione's eyes became wet as she realized just how much pain Ron was in. She rose from the desk and approached him as he covered his eyes with one hand, trying to both stop and hide the tears. She drew her wand out of her pocket.

"Don't cry, Ron," she said softly, stopping in front of him and focusing. "We were all scared. It's all right. It really is."

"It will never be all right, Hermione. Not ever."

"Yes, Ron. Yes it will." Hermione said softly, raising her wand.

"Obliviate."

As Hermione carefully adjusted Ron's memories, outside the classroom, Snape slowly put the tea tray down on the floor and walked away.

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A/N: Just a little more. Thanks for reading.

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