A Certain Amount of Sense

Chapter 19

"And how are the Occlumency lessons proceeding?" After having known Albus Dumbledore for the last thirty-odd years or so, Severus was not surprised that the headmaster knew of the private lessons he was giving Hermione. In fact, he had been expecting the very question from him for quite a while now.

"As you undoubtedly already know, we have only met together the one time. The results of which were rather...interesting."

"Oh?" inquired Dumbledore as he raised the teacup to his mouth.

"Yes. Since Miss Granger's intent for learning Occlumency is to be able to teach it to Potter himself, I had her practice Legilimency on me first." Dumbledore's eyes sparkled with interest.

"Albus, she was able to break through my barriers," said Severus with all seriousness in his voice.

"I see. And, was she able to see anything interesting?"

"Albus! I am not in the mood for your brand of levity right now." The force of his words caused Fawkes to jump slightly on his perch. The bird glared at the Potions Master before returning to his preening.

"Now, now, Severus. As Miss Granger has not been back to the hospital wing since your lesson, I can only assume that whatever she did see was innocuous enough. Am I correct?"

Snape conceded a barely comprehensible "Yes".

"Well then, I suppose the reason behind your outburst would be the fact that she was able to see anything at all."

Severus considered the statement. His reply surprised even himself.

"No."

"No?"

"No, damn it. You know as well as I do how clever and powerful of a witch Miss Granger is. Even if she hadn't been able to succeed, it would only have been a matter of time before she did. The problem is.... The problem is, Albus...." Snape bowed his head in defeat. The headmaster patiently and silently waited for him to continue.

Slowly and softly, pacing a full breath between almost every other word, Severus confessed: "I fear that I am becoming attached to the girl."

"And is that really such a bad thing, Severus?" Although the words could have been taken as such, the tone of his voice told Severus that the headmaster was not joking again, for which he was profoundly grateful. It would have been unbearable for him if his admission had been taken lightly by the old man.

"How can you ask that of me, Albus? You know who I am and what my life is like--how dangerous it would be for me to have any...weaknesses. Hell, you bloody well know how I feel about Potter and Gryffindors in general."

"But not this Gryffindor." It was a statement, not a question.

Severus sighed. "No. Not this Gryffindor."

"Have you ever considered, Severus, that she might become a source of strength for you, instead of a weakness?" The remark surprised Snape, and he looked up at Dumbledore askance.

"What do you mean?"

"I fear I have done you a great disservice, Severus, if you cannot comprehend the meaning of my words." It was the headmaster's turn to sigh. "I understand why you have thought it necessary to live a solitary life, but I have never agreed with it. In fact, I have often wondered, if you had had more friends while you were a student here...."

"That maybe I wouldn't have so readily joined with Voldemort? Don't fool yourself Albus. Who would have possibly wanted to be friends with me? Snivellus." He said the hated nickname with such venom that even James Potter would have considered apologizing for ever calling him that, if he only could have heard it.

Dumbledore decided it would be better to cut Severus off before he ventured any further down the darkness of memory lane and tried a different tactic.

"And what of Miss Granger? How do you perceive she feels about you?" Again, Severus was slow to respond.

"I believe...she is not entirely averse to the idea of befriending me." His tone clearly implied that he could not imagine why she would ever do such a thing.

"I see. And I trust that your intentions towards her are also entirely platonic?" A deep glare was the only response. "I had to ask, my friend." The headmaster's eyes were back to their twinkling selves. "I am deeply honored that you chose to share this with me, Severus. It has been my hope that for some time now that you would be able to find someone else with whom you would place the same amount of trust in. To quote a great Muggle poet, 'No man is an island.' Not even yourself."

"It doesn't even rhyme," was the dry reply.

"No, I suppose not. But I assume you have recovered from your dark mood if you have taken to critiquing poetry."

It was true. While he hated the act of confession, to be able to share his fears with another person had given him a sense of freedom. And to know that the headmaster was not only not disapproving but even condoning this particular relationship had also helped to relieve the burden in his heart.

"Thank you, Albus, as always." He allowed the warmth of his sincerity to surface in his voice.

"You're very welcome, my child. Oh, and Severus," he said as his Potions Master was leaving the room, "I do believe that it will be Miss Granger's birthday tomorrow."

"I see. Thank you for the information."

After the door closed and the stone staircase rotated to let the man down, the paintings adorning the walls came to life as they voiced their opinions of what had just transpired in the room. Dumbledore was grateful for the wisdom and advice his forerunners usually gave him, but even he had to admit that sometimes they were just a bit too nosy and opinionated for his own good.

***

The next day was Saturday, and after the mid-morning brunch Ron asked if he could speak to Hermione in private. She had maintained her silent treatment towards him for almost a full week now, but she had to admit that it was only her pride that had kept her going the last few days. So it was with relief that she followed him outside the castle towards the lake.

Despite his request and her own desire to start speaking with him again, they walked in silence at first. It was another cool, crisp Scottish morning and the fog was just starting to rise from the lake. Just the fact that they were walking together, side by side, with the comfortableness of silence between them spoke all the words they had intended to say. But sometimes, words needed to be spoken.

"I'm sorry, Hermione."

"Apology accepted," was the immediate response. They were now sitting on top of the slope that ran down to the lake, both facing directly ahead. Neither had looked at the other since leaving the castle. Ron picked up a small rock and threw it into the water. It bounced several times before disappearing under the surface. They both watched the concentric rings from each bounce spread out and intersect. It was so peaceful out there that they continued to just sit there in silence a while longer.

Finally, when the act of sitting still had chilled both of them considerably, they got up and returned to the castle. Before entering, however, Ron suggested that they go visit Hagrid to which Hermione heartily agreed. The two of them approached the hut, but just before reaching it, Ron slowed down to allow Hermione to go in first.

She knocked on the door and was surprised when it opened from her efforts. Immediately she became suspicious. Hagrid never left his door unlocked. She reached for her wand and opened the door wider, looking back at Ron and silently instructing him to do the same. She took a cautious step in. It was dark and before her eyes could adjust, she was suddenly blinded by a bright flash of light and assaulted by shouts of "Surprise!"

"What the...!" When her vision finally recovered itself, she saw that she was surrounded by the grinning faces of Hagrid, Harry, Ginny, Neville, and Ron, who was looking especially smug. Hagrid was holding what appeared to be a cake in front of him. Written in blue icing were the words, "Happy Birthday Hermione," and seventeen candles adorned the rest of the surface.

"Were you surprised, Hermione?" asked the bright-eyed Ginny.

"Bloody hell. You were all this close from being turned into toads. No offense to Trevor, Neville."

"None taken."

"I hope you didn't mind too much, Hermione. We just wanted to celebrate your birthday, but I know you don't like making a big deal of things so...."

"No, it's great, Harry. Really. Thanks everyone."

"Come on, Hermione. Blow out the candles," insisted Ron.

"And don' ferget to make a wish," added Hagrid.

She looked at the cake, the candles, and then everyone around her. A happiness filled her heart as she realized that everyone in the room was a loved one, someone who had been with her through the last five years (and in the case of Ginny, the last four) and with whom she had shared so much with. She was grateful that they had chosen not to invite anyone else; after all that had happened in the last few weeks, she wasn't sure if she would be up for a larger, less intimate celebration. As it was, there was only one other person she wished could have been there, and it was with that thought in mind that she blew out the candles.

***

Later that day when she returned to her bedroom there was yet another birthday present waiting for her on her nightstand. She had already received another month's supply of Chocolate Frogs from Ron, the latest edition of Hogwarts, A History from Harry, a set of book plates that read "From the Library of Hermione Granger" from Ginny, and an ever-blooming pot of miniature roses from Neville. Hagrid had contributed the cake, which they had left mostly uneaten. Neville had been unlucky enough to take a bite before they had been able to warn him about Hagrid's considerable lack of baking skills. Fortunately, Fang had been happy enough to eat the pieces of cake that they passed to him when Hagrid wasn't looking.

Although there was no card attached to the outside of the black wrapped gift, she remembered the last time something had shown up on her nightstand without her placing it there, and a little seed of hope sprouted. She carefully unwrapped the box, which was rectangular and flat, slightly larger than a deck of cards.

Inside, beneath a layer of tissue paper, she uncovered what looked like the torn stub of a movie ticket. Was this his way of answering my question? If it was, it was certainly a puzzling way to do so. She picked it up to examine it more closely. A sudden jerk from behind her navel and the loss of ground beneath her feet followed. Too late, she realized it had been a Portkey, and she still did not know who had given it to her, much less where she was going.