After the Fall

Disclaimer: Not mine.

After the Fall

Those Left Behind

Hermione stood on the platform and waved to the students as they boarded the Hogwarts Express. She knew she would miss the students' noise and laughter once she was gone. Sometimes she would open her window just to add noise to her room, the way her mother turned on the radio in the next room when things got too quiet. She wondered if she should buy a radio when she left here. It had been so long that she had thought of Muggle things that she found a sudden longing in the memory of a radio.

The parting ceremony had seemed hollow but still left a bittersweet taste of what had been. She had looked out at the faces and wondered if she had ever been that young and free. She had smiled and applauded with the rest of the staff as the winner of the House Cup was announced, and pretended that it was a wonderful thing that one house could win over another.

After the meal was completed, and the Headmistress said good-bye for the term, Hermione walked back to her quarters to pack and prepare to leave. She picked up the acceptance letter to the university that she had left out, laying on her desk, and felt again as that young first year getting her Hogwarts letter. She sat down to go over yet again the list she had made of things to do and people to see.

The first thing she had done was to open a Muggle account and have her Gringotts funds transferred. She had paid her tuition for the first year and set aside enough for books. Shopping had been the hardest thing she did by far. No longer used to the crowded streets and undergrounds, she had been disoriented and nervous at first.

The first time she had walked though the Underground, from one side of the street to the other, she had caught her breath and stopped on the steps, unable to go to the bottom. It was damp and cold and the sounds of footfalls echoed against the poured concrete walls. She took a step backwards, stumbling on the steps when a hand slid under her elbow.

"Miss Granger." The voice was low and close to her ear. "I assure you it is quite safe."

She looked up to see Professor Snape looking not at her but straight ahead to the far end of the Underground.

"What are you doing here, Snape?" She yanked her arm away from him and glared.

"It seems Miner... Headmistress McGonagall was concerned that your first trip out in several years would be hard on you."

"So she sent you to tend me?"

"No, she asked me to make sure you did not have difficulties."

"I can do this myself. I do not need your help," she snapped at him and walked down to the bottom of the steps, looked down the tunnel and then back at him. "Well? Are you coming or just standing there?"

He smirked and walked to her, taking up her elbow again and matching her stride. He walked her to the end of the passageway and up the steps on the other side of the street before he released her.

"I, myself, had difficulties in lifts after leaving this world for so long. It is the closed-in feeling and the difference in the sound from those at the Ministry," he offered, looking down at her. "I learned to merely find the stairs. Perhaps you should use a taxi until you have grown accustomed to the closeness of the Underground and the difference in sound."

"I grew up as a Muggle and do not need your advice on how to live as one." She lifted her chin and pressed her lips together, feeling the stir of anger beginning.

"As did I, Miss Granger, as did I." He nodded and walked away from her, disappearing into the crowd on the pavement.

That was the last time she let it be known that she was leaving the grounds of Hogwarts for the day. She learned to walk to Hogwarts and use the Floo at the Three Broomsticks to travel to the Leaky Cauldron, and then stepping out to Muggle London, she would hail a taxi and give her destination.

She hated to admit that he had been right. Twice more she had tried to use the Underground, and both times had lost her breath before reaching the end. Once, she had to sit on the stairs to still her stomach and to stop from vomiting. It was more than the sound and more than the closeness. She knew her back was exposed and the only way out was the way ahead. If she were caught in the middle, she would have no place to turn and no one to hear her scream.

She remembered the story of Harry's attack by Dementors and at first thought this was what preyed on her mind. She would put her hand in her pocket and hold her wand, ready to feel their coldness, only to find it was something more she was scared of, something with no name. Something that sat in the shadows and corners of her dreams and now followed her into the daylight.

She packed her robes and gowns from Diagon Alley into a trunk. Next, she stacked her books and all magical items into a pile and sat on the edge of the bed, wondering what to do with them. She knew she could store them here in one of the many empty rooms in the utmost parts of the castle, but decided her empty vault in Gringotts would suit her needs better. Then, with a laugh and a flick of the wand, she reduced them all to ash.

Now, as she waved to the students, she felt the books and trunk of clothes for only a Muggle life in her pockets. From here, she would head to Gringotts and change into her Muggle jeans and tee. Then, taking the last of her life from a vault underground, she would step into Muggle London and be gone.

Hermione smiled and hugged her arms around herself as she walked back to the castle for the last time. She was suddenly excited to be going and thought of new places and new friends in places she had never been.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Severus did not like being in the position of spy for Minerva. Although his only assignment was to keep an eye on the witch as she navigated the streets of London, he felt like a voyeur following a young girl he had no business watching. After her first three trips, he had smirked upon seeing her hail a cab instead of trying the Underground again, knowing by the whiteness of her face she was not growing use to it.

He had turned on his heel, returned to Hogwarts, and assured Minerva that the girl was fine. He saw no further reason to follow her and pry into her life and frowned when Minerva stressed the importance of knowing more.

"She has a right to her own life," he had sneered at the Headmistress. "I also have the right to be left out of this. I thought I was through with controlling and overbearing Headmasters."

"Severus, you know I worry about her."

"You have hundreds of students to worry about, Minerva. Perhaps you should place your concern where it should be."

"I need to know..."

"No, you do not. If you want to know her plans, I advise you to talk to her."

"She would not tell me, I tried." Minerva sniffed and raised her chin higher.

"Then let it be, and let me be." He turned on his heel in a billow of robes. "I am through with this. My oath was over when Albus decided to leave this world early. I will not fall back under someone's thumb."

Severus had returned to his lab to work on his potion. Now, as he stood looking at the ingredients that he had laid out in front of him, he knew they would not work. He swept them to the floor with his arm and leaned on the worktable with his head down. Madam Pomfrey had offered to take his problem to St. Mungo's and ask that research be done. He had scoffed at her and told her that St. Mungo's would have no interest in helping a former Death Eater.

His Order of Merlin lay at the bottom of the lake where he had thrown it in a fit of anger. The Ministry had a knack for adding insult to injury, he thought. They ignored his potions and contributions to the medical field that saved lives, and awarded him a medal for fighting and killing. He had no use for them or the monthly deposit that found its way to his vault each month laying unwanted and untouched.

He sat on the high stool at his workbench and took up his journal, etched with his name and the year, to go over his notes again. He needed to find some measure of relief. He needed to stop the venom that felt like it was liquefying his joints, although Poppy had reassured him that no further damage was evident. He gave up on finding a potion for pain when he realized he could no longer concentrate and had trouble forming coherent thoughts as the potions became stronger and stronger. His students had begun to look at him strangely when he repeated whole sentences or fought to stay awake during essays.

He now had the whole summer to work with no interruptions of noisy students. He read his notes and scratched out whole lines. The secret had to be in an anti-venom. He would need the original venom to find the cure but he had depleted his stock years ago. He stood to find Poppy, thinking perhaps he would take her up on her offer to intercede with St. Mungo's after all. Perhaps if he funded the project with his monthly check from the Ministry they would help. At least, he thought, perhaps they still have a stock of venom they took after the final battle that he could buy for his own experiments.

Severus Snape could not remember the last time he had asked for help. Only once since he had come to his halls had he turned to another and Albus had been all too ready to take what was offered in return. Severus had sworn then to never ask again. He shook his head as he headed for the infirmary, wondering how the end of the war had changed them all.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Minerva had seen Hermione on the platform as she waved goodbye to the students. She had stepped back into the shadows and watched as the girl-turned-woman stretched her arm high in the air and mouthed the words of farewell and smiled. She never saw the smile light her eyes, and knew then that she planned to leave. She stepped out into the sunlight and watched as Hermione turned to walk to the village, feeling a cold steel as it settled in her chest.

Minerva had never been a witch known for demonstrations of affection, but that did not mean that she shunned them. She ached to call to Hermione and wrap her arms around the small witch and let her cry into her shoulder and speak of her plans. Instead, she raised her chin and walked stiffly back to the castle, knowing that in being slighted Hermione was protecting herself. Still, it stung and shook her to the core.

Now, she stood at her office window well after midnight. This was the first time since the end of the war that all the students had gone home. She was glad for the older students and hoped that as the war faded in memory more and more of those affected would be able to let it go and feel safe in this world again, no longer needing to hide at Hogwarts.

She looked out on the grounds and realized with a start that she was looking for Hermione. When the young Professor had not returned from Hogsmeade she hoped that she had not left today. Although she knew now what was coming, she had hoped to still have a day, perhaps two. This time, however, she did not return when the shops in London closed.

Minerva walked to Hermione's chambers and politely knocked on the door, waiting for the familiar voice to bid her enter. When no sound came, she opened the door and walked into the empty room. Every trace of the former occupant was gone. The bed was stripped and bare, the walls empty of Hermione's awards and certificates that had been so proudly framed and hung where she could see them.

Minerva walked to Hermione's window, pulled it shut, and then turned and left the room. She walked slowly back to her office, hearing her footfalls echo back at her from the cold stone walls, and found her peace in the familiar hallways and the knowledge that Hermione had been strong enough to leave.