Through Tinted Windows

Chapter 4

For everything there is a season,

And a time for every matter under heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die;

A time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal;

A time to break down, and a time to build up;

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;

A time to mourn, and a time to dance;

A time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

A time to embrace, And a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to seek, and a time to lose;

A time to keep, and a time to throw away;

A time to tear, and a time to sew;

A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

A time to love, and a time to hate,

A time for war, and a time for peace.

-Ecclesiastes

------------~~~~~~~ o ~~~~~~~-------------

The room was quiet, save the crackling of the fire and the hiccoughs of what was left of Hermione's tears. She now knew what hitting the bottom meant. She had felt absolutely pointless in the world those hours before. Snape had a way of saying things that pierced through the well-built barriers she always put up when she tried to shield herself. This time - Lord, she felt as if he twisted a knife into her heart. Childhood memories of being in the presence of herself or Crookshanks came flooding back as he had spoken the word of agreement.

Her eyes were dry - had been for an hour or so - but still puffy from the long cry she had, as she stared listlessly at the door. Some things never changed - this situation being one. Her mind was pleasantly blank, allowing her ther relief of peace at mind. A plate of food had popped into the room as a chime from an unseen clock rang seven. The aroma of steak and potatoes with gravy with a side of buttered vegetables wafted her way, but her stomach did not sing at the smell. Her mouth did not water. She just watched the steam rise from the plate and dissipate into the surrounding air. Her down turned lips twitched slightly but she did not move other than that.

As midnight came, her eyes grew weary and she closed them, letting out a sad, breathy sigh and she fell asleep. Nightmares filled her dreams - red eyes on darkness chasing her as she ran, calling for help. In it, she banged on a door but no one would answer. So she ran to another door... then another... and there was no one. She finally got to a respectable home and she knocked frantically on the door and to her relief someone answered. It was Snape; he looked down at her with a sneer so cold it made her insides freeze. At that moment he moved away from the door only to reveal the red eyes that were chasing her.

Hermione woke with a scream ready on her lips. Covered in cold sweat, her eyes flew wildly across the room recalling what had happened. 'You can have her,' Snape had said in the dream. 'She is a useless child - even as a muggle. It will be no great loss. Go ahead.' And the red eyes would chuckle from an unobserved mouth, the sound reverberating within her causing big fearful shudders to run down her spine. At that moment, she had tried to get away but in vain as a hand clamped down on her shoulder. She knew it was holding the wand. The Unforgivable curse was at the tip of its tongue... but she woke up.

She turned over and curled in a tight fetal position and whimpered, rocking her self back and forth searching for comfort in it. Hours passed unnoticed by her as she watched the light from the fire slowly die, leaving the remaining embers glowing. She heard another pop a while after the fire was out totally and smelled the scent of sausages, bread and coffee as it filled the air. She didn't want to eat at all. Hermione just lay there, her back to the food - as well as to the door - her body wrapped like a baby in the womb.

When Snape entered, he noticed instantly that all the food he had prepared was cold and untouched. He could feel the anger boiling in him. He had painstakingly searched high and low for muggle-type meals and fixed them up himself and she had not even made an effort to at least take one bite of it. He gave a pointed glare at one and willed it to go back to the kitchen with his mind. He did the same with the other with the anger emanating from his obsidian eyes. Then he stormed back out, leaving Hermione once again.

------------~~~~~~~ o ~~~~~~~-------------

It had taken him only half an hour to reach some state of realization. The remorse he felt as he made her meals returned, clenching at his stomach insistently. The disarray that she was in was so palpable yet he was so blind as to not see it. Hermione was utterly depressed by what had transpired the day before. How could he have been so utterly insensitive? He had always accused others of being such with him and here he was, a hypocrite to his own words. Making an effort to pull her out of her stupor, he went back to the room.

He noted that she was still in the same position as when he had left, but now the cold hearth was burning with an ironically cheerful blaze. He had to thank the house elves for their attention for the little details. Swallowing his pride for once in his life to someone who did not hold his life in the palm of their hands, he walked over and squatted down, hearing the crack of his joints as he did so. Grimacing slightly, he opened his mouth to say something, then thought again and pursed his lips together. She would not accept his sarcasm at that moment.

Sighing, he stationed himself on the settee - allowing at least some certain distance as a warning should she have a desire to physically attack him. He lay back and watched the shadows the fire cast dance along the ceiling, feeling uncomfortable with the silence that hung between them.

"What is it you want, Professor Snape?" she demanded coldly, her voice raspy from disuse that sent his stomach tumbling against the rest of his insides.

"A chance..." he told after a long hesitancy, his voice quite strained as he struggled not to choke on his words.

"'A chance' meaning... what exactly?" There was a hint of amusement and satisfaction in his state, causing him to clench his hands tightly. She was beating around the bush when she knew the answer was right there in front of her. He felt a retort bubble up his throat, but downed it, knowing that the conditions of saying it were unstable. You brought yourself into this, the voice in his head hissed. Now fix it.

"You didn't deserve what I said," he began in a flat voice. "I overreacted - as Albus indicates to me on a regular basis when something happens. Nevertheless, the thing I said... it was quite uncalled for."

"I'd say," she almost spat.

"Please don't make this any harder for me, Miss Granger." The irritation was boiling in him now, but the guilty feeling was far worse allowing him to restrain himself.

"I plan to make this the hardest thing you've been put through." She rolled over and got to her feet, folding her arms in a forbidding way. He followed suit, but did not fold his arms, hoping that it would be some indication of his feeling of being exposed to her. "You put me through another load of shit that I was hoping to further avoid in my life. I'm going to make this hard on you because you owe that much to me."

He held up his arms in exasperation. "Look, all I wanted was some sort of truce during the time we were in my cottage - my personal space. If you would allow it, we could start on a clean slate; which, by the way, I rarely do with anyone, so be honored for that." She snorted. "Miss Granger, please. We'll start our acquaintance off from this moment on. I shall forget the fact that you used to be my student and treat you as I treat any other respective adult."

She looked up at him, her eyes wary and so tired. He had an impulsive need to just hold her close, but refrained from doing so, motionlessly awaiting an answer. The seconds ticked by and still she said nothing. She just stared at him with her sad little brown eyes, making him want to shift his weight. He relentlessly stared back with a measured gaze though he dreaded she would reject his offer. She turned suddenly and walked two steps away from him. Just as abruptly as she moved, she turned and walked back to him with a neutral look on her face and held out a hand.

"My name is Hermione Granger. I'm twenty, half muggle and half witch and I am good friends with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley." She smiled a little, her demeanor warming slightly.

He was a bit stunned by quickly took her hand into his grasp and shook it, nodding. "I am Severus Snape, Potions Master. I am a middle-aged ex-Deatheater and I know Potter and Weasley to a certain extent."

He allowed himself to smile down at her.

------------~~~~~~~ o ~~~~~~~-------------

They ate a civilized meal together, Hermione thought dazedly. Never in her imagination had she believed such a thing possible with a man as - unpleasant as Severus Snape. And yet, as he sat across from her, he neither observed her like a lab rat or sent her scathing remarks as she had been bracing herself for. There was silence - yes of course there was that - however, they had followed the bits of conversation they had shared during the course.

She realized that when he said he wanted to clear the past, he meant it. She felt like a normal adult around him, not speaking of the years when she had been under his tutelage. They spoke of the current issues that the wizarding world was faced with and sometimes fell into a good debate. It was - well, the only word she could think of at the moment for such a thing was 'nice.' The whole situation was simple, like the word that lingered in her mind.

After they had finished with their dessert, he had politely escorted her to her chambers, where she was, leaning back against the door. It was a lovely little room, soft off-white carpeted floor shielding her feet from the sting of cold marble, the walls charmed to change its hue to fit her mood. When the two had entered, it had been a mellow lavender color clashing with the every-so-often dark green. She had assumed that the green was his aura, being the Slytherin that he was. She was surprised that a closet with clothes of her preference was there as well.

"The house elves like to run those kinds of errands as well," he explained casually. He said nothing more and escorted her to the next room. The bathroom was spacious, with a bath tub with all the provisions in a basket placed on a granite tabletop. She had almost sighed at the thought of a nice bath.

At that moment, she pushed herself away from the support of the door and made purposeful strides towards that same bathtub. She had been too preoccupied the past two days to really notice that she was still in the same attire as she had been two days before. She crinkled her nose at the fact that she was that dirty. With the water filling up in the tub, she shed her used clothes and by the time she finished doing so, the tub was full. She placed the liquid soap to create foam for her bubble bath and slipped in, reveling the soothing warmth of the water as she did so.

No sooner had she settled in, a loud ringing brought the tension back into her body. Her phone! She scrambled to lean out and rummage through her clothes and with a pleased 'Aha!' she pulled out her cellular phone and clicked answer.

"Hello?" She hadn't bothered to look at who it was calling her so she was unsure about what to expect.

She was suddenly bombarded with an explosive voice that startled her and bewildered her at the same time. "'Mione! You didn't call the passed two days and the last two times I called you refused to answer! What the hell is up? Are you alright?"

"Meg..." she trailed off and blinked. "Meg! Oh my God, I'm truly sorry! I've been... I've been engrossed in other things..."

There was a slight pause before a smug chuckle on the other end grew in volume and met Hermione's ears. "Ooh, she's been getting some action! Yeah, baby, yeah! Ohoho, wait till Harry hears about this! No, no, no, wait til Ron here's about this! They'll both be thrilled!"

"Meg," she warned, the mention of Harry alarming her. "Nothing of the sort has happened. And don't you dare say anything to Harry or Ron. He has enough to worry about as it is. And if you want to know, a few... non-sexual things have occurred that has kept my attention away from the luxuries of muggle life-"

"What?" Meg sounded miffed. "Pray tell, what would have the power to cause you not to call your best friend that hadn't been a good long shag with a sexy man? He is sexy isn't he? Does he have an available sister?"

"Arguments is what it is and no the guy is not 'hot' as you say. He..." she paused, unsure of how to put it. She went for telling the truth. "He's my former teacher. And as far as I'm concerned, he has no sister so don't expect to be coming over to visit."

"Wow! I can't believe it, our little smart bookworm has finally become a butterfly! Quite scandalous, 'Mione! Bloody scandalous, indeed!" More laughter. "Who is the lucky man with my lovely best witch?"

"Uhm... my - my Potions Master from Hogwarts."

"The guy that the Ron calls the 'greasy git vampire?!' Dear Lord, Hermione Granger, pack your things. I'm finding a way to get to that hellhole and take you home. No wonder you've been preoccupied. Give me the address right now, will you? Sex indeed - from what I hear, that professor -"

"Please, Meg, stop that insolence right now." The ranting on the other end of the phone stopped. "Thank you. I would love to see you in the next few days. However, there are certain circumstances that disable me from departing from this 'hellhole' as you well put it. I'll be back in approximately five days. If not, then you can come and collect me."

"You make it sound like you'll be murdered and I'm supposed to bring back your remains. Hermione, I don't trust people that your other wizard friends don't trust. I'll be far more worried than I have been the past two days and if I get some odd heart disease from it, it's you I'm going to blame."

Her friend's voice sounded sulky and Hermione couldn't help but smile, scooping up some bubbles with her free hand and allowing them to fall . "Don't worry, I'll be fine. No need to lose sleep over it. It's actually become... quite pleasant now."

This seemed to spark interest in her Asiatic friend as some of the energy returned into her voice. "Is that right? Do tell, from what you've experienced, what you can now say about him. I want to see what your impression of him is."

Hermione couldn't help but think how easily the girl changed opinions. She sighed and gave into the curiosity of her friend. Maybe, she thought grimly, just maybe she would find answers about her standpoint on the man. So on she went, telling her friend of the happenings those couple of days, the highs and utter lows and how it all came to the present situation. At the end there was an unusual silence resonating from the other end of the phone line that she thought the girl had fallen asleep.

With uncertainty, she spoke. "Uh... Meg? You still there?"

"What? Oh, of course, I'm here, 'Mione. I was - I was just mulling over a few things that you mentioned." She could almost picture the her waving her hand to reassure her. Or maybe herself...

"Hm... well, I'll let you go and do that, okay? I've soaked myself thoroughly now and I think I better wipe myself off."

There was a slight pause and a rustle. "Huh? Oh yes, of course. You go ahead. I'll talk to you later or something. Take care, sweety. Bye." The line clipped off and Hermione was left, slightly surprised in the tub by the abrupt end to their conversation.

Shrugging, she placed the phone down on the side and got up shrugging into a bath robe. She had just finished tying it when a knock resounded through the recesses of her room. "Miss Granger?" It was Snape. Alarmed by his intrusion, she quickly walked over to the door and put her ear to it.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Haven't I insisted that you to call me Severus or was it just my imagination?" he asked in a mocking tone, muffled only by the few inches that separated them.

"Oh. Well then you should have called me Hermione," she shot back.

"My apologies then, Hermione. In any case," he went on, a bit impatiently, "There is a certain individual who is here to see you."

"Oh... how odd..."she whispered to herself, then shook her head. "I'll be out in just a moment," she called back across the door. He gave a muffled 'very well' before she heard his footsteps recede as he walked down the hallway. Hermione felt a bit of a jolt at the knowledge that someone would be looking for her. Who it would be, she hadn't the slightest clue. She flew to the closet and pulled out a pair of shorts and an large sweater that covered all of her arm and part of her hands. Putting on thick socks, she pushed her feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers - in plain white - and brushed her hair out of all the tangles. Approving herself in the full-length mirror, she walked out in a confident manner though her insides were trembling. She had a very bad feeling about this meeting, yet she hadn't the slightest clue why.

------------~~~~~~~ o ~~~~~~~-------------

The man sitting on the settee had taken Severus by surprise, but nevertheless, he had known Hermione, and by knowing her, he had to believe that she had called upon him. The visitor was tall and skinny and somewhat familiar. There was some desperate air around his figure as well as his request to see her so, despite his wariness to letting him in, allowed him to step in. The mention of his name brought back a memory that was solely connected to quidditch in Snape's mind. He had escorted the man to the living room and told him to wait patiently while he went to call upon Hermione.

When he did so, he became far more suspicious of the character who came by the surprised tone in the female's voice. As he walked back to the living room, a contemplative frown fell upon his face. There was something strange about the man in the living room and there was no way he would take his eyes off of him from then on. As the two waited in the room, Snape assessed the man with a lifted eyebrow. An uncomfortable silence settled on them and the other man shifted while Severus stood with folded arms and watched him.

"Where is she?" the man asked abruptly, his accent thick and foreign to the British borders.

"Still preparing herself," he replied and gave a cold smile. "You know women."

A nervous laugh emanated from the seated one. "Yes... yes of course..." It was obvious the visitor was searching for something to say.

"Where are you from?" the Potions Master asked blandly.

"Bulgaria, Sir," the younger man answered quickly, rambling on about his home country, seemingly comforted by the small talk. He was obviously unnerved by the ex Death Eater's presence, giving Snape much satisfaction.

"I see," he interrupted rudely. "And how do you know Miss Granger?"

"Ah... well, Sir, it is quite a long story... I believe a bit to long for the time being..." It was obvious that the young man did not want to talk about it. His eyes darkened prominently and there was a slight flush that crept up his sallow cheeks.

There was no time for explanation in any case as it was that moment that Hermione picked to appear, swinging the door open wide. He noted that she had a courteous smile and she had picked out a homey outfit from the closet of her temporary accommodations. He had little time to appreciate her assets when he noted the way she noticeably paled when her eyes flicked towards the man. Her mouth was frozen for a moment before it fell slightly open in horrified shock. Her hand held the doorknob in a vice-like grip, her knuckles turning white. Snape watched, fearful that she would topple over unconscious at any given second. It was a while before she finally gained the ability to speak.

------------~~~~~~~ o ~~~~~~~-------------

As she went down the hallway, her insides grew more twisted as the dread settled farther into her. At the door to the main living room, she held her breath and closed her eyes, willing her nerves to calm. From inside, she could here two male voices, one that gave her comfort. Feeding off of it, she regained some tranquility. Expelling that same breath, she opened her eyes and opened the door, a smile ready on her lips. The sight before her brought back the nightmares and torment that she had been faced with the last six months nearly driving her insane with its adamant reappearances. The smile fell from her face and her eyes widening in terror; the greeting dying before it could be made.

Oh God.

The muscles in her stomach convulsed at the sound and with the mingling sight before her she felt like fainting. There it was, her pain; her sadness; her bitter tears; her fears all rolled into one being. Thick eyebrows, thin, cold dark eyes on sallow skin and the large curved nose that only made her want to cringe. It was him - the darkness residing in her heart... The thing she had been running away from for so long had somehow found her in the only moment of relief in the wizarding world. And how the nightmare found her was a mystery.

"Viktor Krum." She said it in a choked voice.

"Hermo-ninny," the masculine voice acknowledged with a thick eastern European accent and the visitor stood up to receive her.