“beyond wandpoint” 041 by gingerbred
Mar. 20th, 2019 11:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beyondwandpoint“11 10d Monday - Sorting Staff”
Severus and Hermione, Hagrid, Poppy, Terrence 'Call-Me-Terry' Taylor, Miscellaneous Faculty
Originally Published: 2017-12-18 on AO3
Chapter: 041
Pairing: Hermione Granger / Severus Snape
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Hermione's finally found him. She stands waiting, not eager to interrupt the Professor's conversation. She's just incredibly relieved he seems... not severely damaged. She hadn't known what to expect. He's leaning against the wall again in a way that isn't encouraging; he doesn't do that unless he must. She knows this. His posture is excellent, he's a proud man, and she's seen him stand almost unaffected after some frightening treatment, so she knows he can't be alright, but at least he's upright. That makes for a pleasant change to how he'd spent most of the weekend.
Taylor gives him a nudge and with a jerk of his head, indicates something over Severus' shoulder.
He turns, and whom should he find lurking there but Miss Granger.
He can only assume this is a manifestation of the Loyalty Vow.
Apparently considering their conversation ended, Taylor walks back to the Staff Lounge. Once he has passed Miss Granger, he makes a point of very visibly turning to examine some of her finer... qualities. Luckily, Hermione doesn't notice, although that's probably half the reason he did it; she's only got eyes for the Professor, preoccupied, as she is, with trying to assess his condition.
Taylor nods decisively, gives Severus a satisfied smile and a wink, and calls back, "I'm not wrong." And now Severus find himself trying not to look, and hating Taylor just that little bit more. It's sort of like not thinking about a polar bear on command.
"Miss Granger, what brings you here?" Severus enquires, as though in passing, vaguely hoping she'll have the decency to pretend she hadn't been summoned by the bond.
"I thought I felt... How are you, Sir? Is everything... Did everything go... alright?" She's not sure if he will appreciate her knowing the things the bond gives away. In fact, she's rather sure he won't. She bites her lip apprehensively, nervous in equal parts both about his condition and his response.
"Hagrid didn't take it well," he answers in typically understated fashion.
"Oh!" She can only imagine. Hagrid really is a dear. Well, except for mangling the Professor it would seem. Even more nervously she now asks, "What did you do to him?"
"What did I do to him? Nothing," he answers fairly evenly, but Occludes ferociously and despite that is nevertheless somewhat offended at the question. Not that he expects better, but still...
"Really?" She sounds somewhat shocked.
"Oh, how I love the note of surprise," he deadpans. She's fairly certain that's sarcasm.
That's the second time in minutes she's thought worse of him than he is, and she's wondering why. First Malfoy, now Hagrid. She thinks it must be due to her frightening dreams last night. She assumes she'd been trying to come to terms with some of the horrifying things he'd told her yesterday. She doesn't consider how the bond might affect her sleep. But somehow those dreams left her thinking, feeling, worse about him.
That stops now.
"I'm sorry, I just have a hard time picturing you holding still for abuse."
"If I hadn't, it would only have escalated, and then where would it end? With the entire staff in the Infirmary?" It's a perfectly reasonable sentiment, no question, that she's somehow not expecting to hear from him. That's probably because of what she takes for an almost pacifistic element she has trouble reconciling with him, because she knows he's definitely not that. Which makes her think.
She senses she's somehow viewing that incorrectly. It's not pacifism in the least, it's pragmatism and a willingness to sacrifice for what he perceives as the greater good. It follows perfectly from the other things he does, that she knows he does, and she doesn't quite understand why she's having such difficulty seeing him differently, more clearly, for who he is.
They... Her friends have spent too many years vilifying him for unrelated and in retrospect rather trivial reasons, and she's having a bit of trouble adjusting, catching up. That doesn't seem like her, and so she asks herself 'why'. Very little contemplation is required to realise that in her friendships, the people she has chosen to include in her life, and one would hope, thinks presumably... well of, there's frequently a lack of regard for others on display. Evident as recently as a quarter of an hour ago, even. It makes it that much more surprising to discover just that regard in the curmudgeonly man before her.
He manages, only just, not to tease her about how she'd prepare for her N.E.W.T.s were all of staff so indisposed. Whether he realises it or not, that's probably only because he can feel her concern, apparently for him as well as Hagrid. And even he would have to admit, she had been concerned before she had any reason to fear for Hagrid's welfare.
Instead he continues quietly and unexpectedly openly, "I'm forced to 'hold still for' it rather often. For... them." Hermione recognises the truth of those words as soon as she hears them. "Hagrid meant well, it seemed... wrong to... punish him for it." Her feelings of guilt only increase. "If I can take maltreatment from people I despise, I should be able to do so for those I consider... friends."
Her free hand reaches almost automatically into her pocket and closes tightly around the miniaturised phial that holds her top from Friday, and she concentrates on what this man did for her, went through for her. She thinks about the shape he was in at the time, the state of his chest, what the scars reveal about his past, apparently all because he accepts absurd amounts of abuse for the Order. It sets something to rights in her thoughts.
"'For' friends maybe. But not 'from' them. Friends shouldn't treat you like that." She's angry. She's furious, in fact. He smirks a bit meanly, but he's in pain and it really isn't helping his disposition any. But it's not like he's the only doormat present; he's in excellent company here.
He can't help thinking of any number of times staff had gossiped, ad nauseam, about how Potter or Weasley or both hadn't treated her all that well. Hagrid himself had practically sung epic ballads on the subject while wringing his hands, and Severus assumes he doesn't know the half of it. On the other hand, he'd have to admit he's never heard of them breaking her ribs, and she's indignant on his behalf, and for once he manages not to self-sabotage and holds his tongue.
"Are you alright?" She asks softly.
"Poppy has seen to me," he half answers.
"I guess that's something of a habit for her," she looks frankly worried as she says it. "Is she still in the staff room?"
"Unless she returned to the Great Hall by the other door. She hasn't passed me." In fact, no one had. Apparently they'd deemed it unadvisable. Cowards.
She puts her books down next to him, draws her wand and Engorgios the bunch and then asks, "Would you mind terribly keeping an eye on my books? Maybe just take a seat? That'd probably be easier." She's definitely not a Slytherin. He assumes that's Gryffindor for he 'still looks shaken'.
He's a mite surprised to find himself taking the proffered seat, and is reminded a little uncomfortably of their shared adventure from Friday by the way she now stands before him, examining him, checking for damage. It seems a reversal of fortunes somehow. Involuntarily he thinks of her hands running through his hair, across his face, and it's a stark contrast to now when she all too consciously avoids contact. Which is clearly preferable, of course.
Satisfied, or something like it, with what she sees, she nods her head determinedly. "Do you need anything? If she's still there that is?" She enquires.
He wouldn't dream of admitting it, and he's only minutes from his own supply of anything she's likely to be able to procure here, so he just shakes his head in reply, "No, I'm quite alright."
There's a flash to her eyes echoed across the bond that tells him she doesn't believe a word of it. "I'll be back in a few minutes," she reassures him, which strikes him as amusing that she'd consider it reassuring, and then even odder when he notes it somehow is. And then she turns and heads for the faculty room, and again he finds his eyes trying to slip to the backside whose virtues Taylor had extolled, while he battles to keep them firm... firmly on the back of her head. Taylor's an arse.
Hmm. Poor choice of words.
She straightens, and with a determined set to her shoulders, she steps into the Faculty Lounge.
When Taylor returned to the staff room, he'd been quick to report that Snape's bondmate was in the Hallway. A few of the more reckless types had crowded around the entrance, somehow ignoring the fact if they can see Snape, he is perfectly capable of seeing them should he turn his head. Not one thought to cast a Notice-Me-Not, including the DADA Instructor. Instead this brain trust stands, snooping in the doorway, only to have to scramble as Miss Granger approaches.
Cooler heads might have prevailed, but Albus and the remaining Heads of Houses had already returned to the Great Hall, and at least half their heads aren't particularly cool to begin with. But they've had more time to come to terms with the news, and they've gone ahead to see to the students.
There's a sense that they need to keep an eye on things; the teachers are under orders not to speak of this until it's announced to the student body, but as agitated as they are, there's always a danger someone might slip. Sybill can undoubtedly be relied upon to make several not so veiled predictions in the interim. Albus probably should have insisted on a Wand Oath, to stave off the imbroglio that's far too likely to ensue, but adults are good deal less malleable than children in that regard and considerably less willing to take such Oaths. Instead, he's relying on luck.
It's probably best just to see about getting the students to their classrooms and give the other teachers a little more time to cool down before they're confronted with them.
Hearing Hermione was in the hallway, Hagrid had shifted closer towards the door to catch a glimpse of her. With his size, he has no trouble standing at the rear and looking over everyone else's heads. For one thing, he really needs to reassure himself that she's not hurt.
What Professor Dumbledore had said... An attack! You-Know-Who's Death Eaters! Here! It was worrisome, it was, and he just wants to know the poor girl isn't hurt. He would also kind of like to know how she stands to the Potions Master, and he'd really like to know that because of how he reacted before. He shouldn't have done that. It's bad enough to have angered Professor Snape. He'd hate to have Hermione mad at him, too. He wouldn't like that at all.
In that position, he's clearly visible to both of them now, particularly as all his colleagues standing in front of him have scarpered. But Hagrid's eyes remain somewhat shamefully focused on the floor as she approaches. There's a Silencing Charm on the doorway, which means Severus can't hear a word of what's going on in there, but he watches as Miss Granger marches into the staff room, without permission, and stalks up to Hagrid, without wavering, and evidently unleashes a tirade of the first water on him. Judging by the way her hair crackles, it's quite the tirade at that. She's not really that short, but she is very thin, and it makes her seem even tinier. He finds her so next to himself. Next to Hagrid, well... It's almost absurd to watch her tiny form completely cow his gigantic one.
And yet she does.
Severus can practically see Hagrid shrinking. Her finger keeps stabbing his chest, more like his stomach, really, and then Hagrid is actually in tears. Severus has no way of knowing, obviously, but those tears come at the thought that she had been in danger again and something could have happened to her, completely missing the point, in best Hagrid fashion, that something actually had. But as he stands there crying and apologising, she folds him into a hug. The sight of it gives Severus a queer turn, and leaves him feeling possibly more strangely than Taylor's comments had. It really seems everyone else on staff has a better relationship to his... wife than he does.
Barring Sybill, that is.
Hermione stands there hugging Hagrid as he cries. His huge hand fanned across her back actually covers a significant part of her spine, and his tears are just as proportionately large. She's getting rather damp under the deluge, and yet it's a comfort somehow. The Professor was right, of course. The half-giant had had the best of motives for his attack on the Potions Master. Hagrid had been concerned for her. It's hard to stay angry with him in the face of that.
And yet... They'd been told the Professor has acted in her interests, had rescued her, and still Hagrid chose to doubt him. He's not the only one. Yesterday it had been Professor McGonagall. She has no doubt today there were others. She's seen this behaviour from Harry often enough, the willingness, the readiness to believe the worst of the Professor, no matter what's said to the contrary, and it really is time someone put a stop to it.
No better time than here and now, and she's just the witch for it.
Between his sobs, Hagrid manages to choke out, "I'm so glad you're safe, 'ermione."
She smiles at him gently as she steps back to better take in the rest of those present, but very clearly tells him so all can hear, "You owe him an apology, Hagrid."
"No worries, 'ermione, I know I do. I was wrong, I shouldn't a done that. And I apologised, I did. I just don't think it mattered much, yeh know? It was as though he didn't really hear me."
"Then you need to make yourself heard, Hagrid. He deserved better from you. From all of you," she accuses on speculation, but off the guilty looks she sees around the room, and the scarcely contained satisfaction on Madam Pomfrey's face, she suspects she's right to have done so.
"He rescued me, he's continuing to protect me, and that's how you treat him?" For the majority, her tone, her words are sufficient. She's obviously not some half-witted creature being taken advantage of. But one or two have axes to grind, and won't let it go at that.
"Miss Granger," Professor Trelawney begins in reproach.
Hermione gives her a slightly smug smile as she corrects her, "Madam Snape." It's every bit as effective with those present as it was with Professor McGonagall, save Professor Trelawney, who refuses to be deterred.
"How unexpected to see you in the Faculty Lounge."
Hermione's smile probably crosses the boundary from smug to cruel, it's mostly in the eyes, but most wouldn't notice, not expecting it of her, and she really has run out of patience with people and just can't help herself. She's had to stomach enough this weekend, she won't stand around and allow anyone to abuse her any further. The same goes for the Professor. It stops here.
"I should have thought you of all people should have seen it coming." Professor Trelawney looks stricken at that, but she had practically handed her the line. Hermione feels no qualms. It's ludicrous and infuriating that these people find it acceptable to give her or Professor Snape anything less than their full support. They're the victims in this. "As the bondmate of a faculty member, I took the liberty of letting myself in."
"I'm not certain those privileges are transitive," Professor Vector comes to her colleague's aid, but she sounds just a little amused. The Arithmancy Professor has always liked Hermione, and as with Hagrid, her negative response to the news had primarily been motivated by concern for her student. Able to see for herself that her concerns were misplaced, Septima now regrets the tone she took with Severus.
"Well as long as you're not certain they're intransitive, we'll agree I'm exactly where I should be. That's the second time in as many days that he's suffered abuse at the hands of a colleague for the sacrifices he's made for me, if you think I'm going to stand idly by..."
"No, by all means, Madam Snape, speak your piece," Professor Vector encourages her, and Professor Trelawney withdraws a little more now that her perceived support is gone. It doesn't feel good to be standing there without it. Unfortunately, she doesn't make the connection to how the assault victim in front of her might feel faced with her own behaviour.
"Maybe Professor Dumbledore failed to get this across, but both of us were attacked by Death Eaters Friday. He rescued me despite life threatening injuries, and struggled to save me until the point of collapse." Professor Trelawney softly snorts her disbelief, and Hermione rounds on her, indicating the Matron, "You don't have to take my word for it, you can ask Madam Pomfrey for confirmation."
Very few still feel the need by now to look to the Mediwitch to confirm that, but she nods her complete agreement. "We were extremely fortunate, both that he was able to recover from that, and that he was successful in chasing off her attackers before he succumbed to his wounds."
Hermione takes up her cause again, "And this is how you respond?
"This stops here and now. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume until now you were only trying to help, but I want it made perfectly clear, you're not helping me with this. That's for the record. Anything more, from any of you, from this point on, is solely down to your own questionable agendas, and very obviously not intended for my benefit. Don't even try to pretend it is. The only one who helped me is out there, and being mistreated by the people I'd expect to see applauding him for his bravery. It's simply deplorable."
And with that, Madam Pomfrey's arm comes to rest around Hermione's shoulders, she gives the little witch a squeeze, scolding the others, "Don't you have classes you need to get to?" As they turn to leave, towards the Great Hall she notes with some derision, she leans close to the young woman and whispers, "Good show!"
Severus is still seated in the hallway. Truth be told, he's begun cringing. He hasn't a clue what's being said in there, but he can't imagine it won't make things worse. Still, it's probably nice that she thought to try.
Taylor is the first to leave, and again has no hesitation heading towards Severus. He probably hasn't had enough encounters with the man's abrasive barbs to see the wisdom in taking the room's other exit. Notably none of their coworkers follow. With a wide grin, he approaches Severus and says, "Bit of a firecracker, too. I hope you know what you're doing..." And then waddles off in the direction of his classroom, laughing. Apparently he enjoyed the spectacle.
Miss Granger follows very shortly after. She hands Severus a Pain Relieving Potion, which he silently accepts. "Madam Pomfrey had some with her." He doesn't argue, he just quaffs it and Vanishes the phial. There's no point in compounding his problems.
He rises and casts an Finite Incantatem on her books, which he then lifts from the floor with a Wingardium Leviosa. She reaches for them, but he puts up a hand to stop her. His hands are empty, and she was kind enough to try to fight his battles for him, and somehow he feels the thing to do is take them for her. Anything else and he'd feel like a cad. "Which class do you have first?"
"Charms."
"Of course." He should have known - he did know; it's the class she takes... she took before his. That all his N.E.W.T.s students have before his. He's just not used to having to think about his wife's class schedule. It'll take some adjustment.
Her books secured under his arm, he turns and heads towards the Grand Staircase. Hermione bites back a smile at the sight of him lugging her texts. Naturally, that's what Lightening Charms are for, he'd have to be a bit of an idiot not to use one with the pile she had.
He can feel her amusement and feels the need to tease. "So he breaks three of my ribs and you embrace him. I shouldn't like to think what you'd have done had he hospitalised me."
His tone is dry, but the bond lets her know there's no bite to it, so she chuckles and suggests, "Baked him a cake?"
"I thought as much."
"No, trust me," she laughs, "that's a punishment. Worse than his Rock Cakes. By far." It gets her a slight smile in response.
When they reach the stairs she'll need to take to Charms, he hands her back her books, the Lightening Charm still in place. That gets him a smile. With a slight nod, he wishes her a good day and makes his way back to the dungeons for his first class. He shakes his head as he goes, thinking about the scene in the Lounge. He can't imagine she helped matters any, but he's decided he appreciates the effort.
But it seems Hermione, at least, was heard. Tomorrow morning in addition to Rock Cakes, inedible, from Hagrid, there will be a variety of presents from his colleagues waiting in his office. Some wine, more flowers from Pomona, elf wine from Filius, a gift voucher from Flourish & Blotts from Septima, Ogdens from Taylor, a bottle of champagne from Hooch who still doesn't quite get it, or maybe she's just more practical... It's a pity Severus won't be there to see it.
(no subject)
Date: 2019-12-13 04:55 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-12-13 08:19 am (UTC)And (also going by comments) there are some truly lovely Severus scenes that come up as a direct result. You wouldn't want to miss that. :-)