Regaining

Also, think of the Blessing Books magic as that of public library/school filtered internet providers - they only capture appropriate images ;)

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Severus kept his back to the door of the Tranquillity Parlor. His eyes were closed, and he was slowly bending to the power of the room. He hated the Parlor not because it was an unpleasant place. On the contrary, it was a treasured place, although he had come here only a handful of times. He hated it because in this room, he was forced to let down his barriers of self-loathing and bitterness. He was used to those barriers; they were comforting because they had been part of him for so long. The initial serenity he felt here was foreign to him. The longer he spent in the Parlor, the more the peace became a solace. When he had to leave it, it was like being expelled from a paradise. He knew he needed to be here to get control of himself, but the pain of leaving tonight would be excruciating.

He breathed in the soothing air, listening to the waterfall. Then he heard a rustle which didn't quite fit. He opened his eyes and was shocked to see Hermione Granger's surprised face peering over the top of a sofa. "What are you doing here?" he exclaimed, too startled to paint his voice with its normal acid.

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Hermione was surrounded by photo albums. She had looked through all of the ones from her school years and then had looked to other times. Some of the albums were very thin, especially the ones from the late 1970's. The one from 1981 was the largest. Hermione was fascinated by the pictures from that year. There were celebrations and parties documented throughout most of the book. She had deduced by now that these albums showed the wonderful moments, planned and unplanned, at Hogwarts. It was hard not to smile back at the pictures sometimes. She had found few pictures of Professor Snape. None of them showed him looking particularly pleased, but in some he seemed a bit less gloomy than others. She had almost giggled in spite of herself when she found one from his Sorting. He was sitting on the stool and grinning slightly, a small, scrawny boy with the Sorting Hat falling down over his eyes. Other pictures showed him in class, as a student mostly, working on projects or receiving high marks. He was never shown in groups of friends, although there was one where he stood on the fringes of a group of Slytherin teenagers, smirking and laughing in their formal robes. The students were in pairs, but he was alone. His sad eyes betrayed his stern expression. As the years progressed, there were several awkward staff pictures, but not many candid ones. There was one unusual picture from 1981 that kept drawing her attention. In it, Snape was sitting in the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore was sitting beside him, a hand on his shoulder. His face looked care worn yet comforting. Snape's face was covered by his shaking hands, and on his left forearm she could see bloody scratches still dripping. This didn't look like a happy moment in time, but it must have been significant somehow.

In the volumes from her own school years, she saw herself and Harry and Ron and their friends on page after page. Pictures of Fred and George Weasley alone could have filled their own series of albums. Despite the awful things that had happened and were still happening, people could smile, laugh, and achieve in their studies. Even the slim albums from the time of Voldemort's greatest power were full of witches and wizards carrying on with their lives as joyfully as possible. She glanced at the picture from last year's Potions class once more. 'I have had so much to be happy about,' she thought. 'I am smart. I have friends who would do anything for me. I have people who can help me and who want me to get better - and if one of those is Snape, well.... I guess I can handle it.' Of course thinking that in this beautiful, warm room was a bit different than actually starting back to work with him, but she was reconsidering her opinion of him. Seeing the different pictures of him had made her feel for him. He was always alone, always unhappy... it couldn't be a very fun life to live. 'I can give him a chance,' she thought, 'It's not like he'll be my best friend. He's a teacher, and I like teachers as a rule.' If Dumbledore trusted him, she would as well. Even if he had initially started all of this, he had not been the one who poisoned her. Hermione didn't like how anger, hatred, and vengeance made her feel; the thought of forgiveness, on the other hand, was cleansing. 'That's all well and good, but how are you going to feel when you see him again?' she thought. Then she heard the door open and close. She huddled into the sofa, her eyes peeking over the top of it. 'Sweet Circe, it's him!'

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"How did you get in here?" Severus asked, his face paler than usual..

Hermione held up the key to the room. "The Headmaster said this was a good place to think," she said in a small voice. She was quite surprised her stomach was not churning again upon the sight of him.

"Did he really now? Crafty old man," Severus muttered to himself. He wondered if he could make a quick exit without Dumbledore noticing. 'Not bloody likely - he probably put up a ward to keep you in here.' He groaned inwardly. Dumbledore must have decided the two of them needed to come to terms with the events of the evening in a neutral place.

"I can leave, Sir," said Hermione quickly, scrambling to her feet, "I can think just as well in the Library."

"No, Miss Granger, please stay," Severus said with a sigh. "I think the Headmaster wants us both to be here."

"Why?" asked Hermione. "And what is this room, by the way? It's a wonderful place." As she was speaking, she realized that she was talking to him without going to pieces. 'I can be in the same room with him. That's a good start.'

'Well, the poor girl can stand to be in the same room as me. That's a start," thought Severus. He walked over to the farthest window corner, maintaining as much space between them as possible. "This is the Tranquillity Parlor. It's charmed with every spell possible to make a person feel at peace. Primarily it's used for making difficult decisions or for healing hurts of the mind. It belongs to Dumbledore, but he encourages the staff to use it when needed."

"Did he encourage you to use it tonight?" Hermione asked.

"Did you ever stop to think that your incessant questions are not welcomed," he snapped. He saw Hermione flinch, and he flinched as well. After all that had happened, how could he still be so cruel and unthinking? "Please forgive me that outburst, Miss Granger. I am... a bit on edge, as I'm sure you are. To answer your question, the Headmaster ordered me to come here." He paused for a moment. "Miss Granger, if I may ask... how are you? Now, I mean?" he said softly.

Hermione felt composed instead of panicked, despite the burst of irritation he had directed towards her. This room had powerful magic indeed. When she spoke, her voice was even. "Well, aside from still not knowing how or when I will recover from the magical attack that has changed my life, I am... well, I've been better, but I'm okay. I had a good talk with the Headmaster, and I have been quite contented sitting here looking at pictures. There is a Muggle saying which goes 'A picture paints a thousand words' - very fitting for these photos. I know that my questions aren't welcome, but could I ask you about these albums?"

"Of course, Miss Granger, I owe you that much at the very least," said Severus grimly.

"Please, Professor, you needn't look so grave," said Hermione, smiling. It was a bit amusing to see him look so intimidated. "I'm not going to ask you for secrets of the Enemy or answers to the Potions final. I just want to know about the photos. Are they Dumbledore's as well?"

"Yes, they are. He calls these albums his Blessing Books because they contain records of the happiest moments at Hogwarts. He uses them to reflect on the favorable times in his life when faced with times of tragedy."

"How does he take the pictures?" she asked, "I don't remember seeing cameras in use for any of the pictures of me."

Severus had only ever been alone in the Tranquillity Parlor. Now he discovered that in the presence of another, the blasted magic made him want to talk. He didn't even mind now that she was asking questions. "I believe the images are captured by way of the Headmaster's net of Protection magicks. I never thought to ask how the images are made, but I know that they are recorded in a book in his office. Whenever there is a joyous or pleasant moment in the castle, it's entered in the album as it happened."

"I've been looking at pictures of you, Sir," Hermione said, stacking a few albums in front of her.

"Indeed," he said warily, settling into an arm chair still quite some ways from Hermione's sofa.

She held up the picture from Potions class. "Dumbledore said you thought a great deal of me, but you would never let on. Why is that? In this picture you look as proud as any of my other teachers. Why must you always glower and make me feel as if I accomplish nothing in your class?" Hermione had wanted to know this for some time. It was a relief being in a place where she could ask.

Severus gazed at the picture. One side of his mouth curved up in a faint smile. He remembered that day very well and was not surprised it had been recorded in the Blessing Book. "I was quite proud of your efforts that day, Miss Granger," Severus began, "I hardly believed you would be able to do the potion correctly until I saw it glowing in your vial. Sometimes your class needs to be brought down a notch. I am sure you have noticed that between the Gryffindors and Slytherins of your year, there are a few particularly headstrong and persistent students, yourself included. My intention that day was to give the class a problem that could not be easily solved. However, you astonished me by solving it, thus making my plan irrelevant. I glower, as you say, because I am surprised constantly by your abilities."

"And you can't simply say, 'Nice work' on a job well done?" asked Hermione, a bit flippantly.

"When I was a student, I surprised my teachers constantly as well. I was given a remarkable amount of praise which resulted in an overwhelming amount of arrogance. I felt that I could do no wrong. When I made... unfortunate choices, I was not prepared for the consequences. I don't dole out praise because I don't want to contribute, however marginally, to encouraging arrogance in my brightest pupils. Besides that, only the brightest students are worthy of any of my praise. They are a precious few."

Hermione pulled out some more albums from the stacks in front of her. She slid them across the table towards him, opened to various pages. She was going to take advantage of his loquacity while she could. "All right, so you don't want to give us big heads. I can see that. It still doesn't explain why you can't be civil to your students." He did not respond to that, so she changed the subject. "You're always alone in these pictures. Did you ever have any friends?"

He looked at the pictures she was showing. "No, Miss Granger, I did not. Not like most people anyway. Oh, I was envious of loud groups of friends making noise and causing mischief. But I had my studies and my books. They were more important to me in the long run."

"Why, because they didn't talk back when you were moping about like a miserable prat?" Hermione said before she could stop herself. She froze. Maybe there was Veritaserum vapor in this room as well.

Severus stared at her. His first reaction was to lash out at her impudence, but that was tempered by the knowledge that she was seeing through him pretty well based on a bunch of pictures in old albums. "Actually, that's about right. I was never good with interpersonal skills."

This last statement struck Hermione as ludicrous. This whole series of events was plain ridiculous. Here she was, Hermione Elizabeth Granger, Muggle-born witch, best friend of the famous Harry Potter, sitting in an enchanted room talking with a personal nemesis about his lack of people skills. It was all too much. Hermione began laughing. Once she started, she couldn't stop. Every time she looked at Professor Snape, her laughter would intensify. He was sitting stiffly in his chair with his face fluctuating between alarm, bewilderment, and vexation. After several minutes, she managed to squeak out, "I am sorry, Sir," she began, "but that was the understatement of the century." She started giggling again, and any remaining tension she felt dissipated into peals of laughter.

To his great surprise, Severus felt the lightness of her mood affect him. He smiled and said, "I suppose it was an obvious statement." Hearing her laughter made him believe that there was good in the world, and that he could be part of it. But this was still a very serious situation, and he was the adult here. He had his responsibilities to this child.

"Miss Granger," Severus said haltingly, "I need to... to apologize. I am sorry for being the cause of your poisoning. If I had never worked on the Leeching Elixir project in the first place, you would not be suffering right now. I wish I could give you more than my regrets." He expected her to stare at him with hatred or disgust, but Hermione simply watched him with a gentle expression. Her laughter had stopped, and she felt purified from the mire of her own dark thoughts.

"Professor Snape, I know you didn't have anything to do with my poisoning," said Hermione in a voice that sounded older and more mature. "I can forgive you for discovering the potion. If it wouldn't be too awkward for you, I would like to continue working with you to regain my powers. I would, however, appreciate knowing what your plans are for dealing with my condition. I don't like to be kept in the dark."

"Very well, Miss Granger, I will be most relieved to begin again," said Severus. He felt like the dark shadows of his thoughts were being flooded with light from this noble Gryffindor girl before him. 'How could she consider forgiving me,' he thought, but even that black thought was whisked away before he could dwell on it. "It won't be easy, I fear, but I think a recovery is feasible. I must warn you that the... feelings you have right now may be intensified by the properties of the Tranquillity Parlor. You may not feel as magnanimous towards me once you leave. I will not change my behaviour to please others. As I told you during the first session, I will not be your friend or confidant, but I will do my best to make you better."

"Sir, I would simply like a skilled teacher to work with me," said Hermione. "I do not like being ordered and bullied, but I am always ready for a challenge. Do you think... Can we do this?"

"I am willing to try," said Severus.

"As am I," replied Hermione.

"It is getting late, Miss Granger. Am I correct in guessing that you skipped dinner as well as your evening dose of Magnifying potion?"

"Yes, Sir," said Hermione, "I'm pretty hungry." She yawned, and her bones felt heavy all of a sudden. "And more than a bit tired. It's not a good idea to skip the Magnifying potion, is it?"

"It is of utmost importance to take it as scheduled," he said with his usual rigid demeanor. "Come now, I will escort you back to your dormitory. Would you be averse to having a house elf bring a late dinner to your room? I rather think you shouldn't be traipsing about the castle by yourself at this hour." Severus took out his wand and with one wave sent the Blessing Books back to their proper spaces.

"That would be fine. Sir, could we meet for a session tomorrow?" said Hermione, standing up. "I should like to get my recovery on its way. I am tired of waiting."

"I think that would be an excellent idea," said Severus, standing as well. "Shall we?" He gestured towards the door. Hermione turned to face him. Maybe it was because of the magic in the Parlor, or maybe it was because a part of her had grown up this night, but Hermione felt the need to make some connection with Professor Snape. She extended her right hand to him. Severus was not sure what she was doing for a moment, until he recognized she wanted to shake his hand. He tentatively reached out to grasp her hand. This was merely a formal gesture, but the intimacy of it almost overwhelmed Severus. It implied her trust and goodwill and her acceptance of him. It was a touch unlike anything he had ever experienced. Once in the hallway with the Parlor behind them, Severus noticed that the feelings of despondency he had expected were not weighing upon him.

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In Albus Dumbledore's office, a book with golden numbers on the spine was glowing. When Albus opened it up, he was pleased to see a new picture developing of a brave, eager student and a tired, relieved teacher shaking hands in front of a wall of snowy windows.