1.Begin Again

Rain. While most complained and ran for shelter, she always lingered, savouring each droplet as it raced through her hair and slid down her cheeks. It was cleansing, refreshing and allowed her to breathe in a way, which is impossible under the warm rays of the sun. And she needed to breathe. After sixth year, it was one way of relieving the tension and anxiety most had felt.



Hermione withdrew her hand from the window. The edge of her dressing gown was soaking wet and steadily dripping. “Arefacium,” she murmured with a quick wave of her wand. The dripping stopped instantly.



She glanced over at the other beds in the dormitory. Parvati slept peacefully, as did Erica, Callie snored slightly on her back and Lavender uttered something to herself softly before shifting onto her front with a slight smile on her face. Hermione swore she heard the name “Seamus.” She grinned slightly before strolling over to her own bed and pulling off her dressing gown to slip underneath the covers.



Staring up into the darkness, she thought about the year that lay ahead of her. It was N.E.W.T year, the final year before she left Hogwarts and ascended into the adult wizarding world. Her future career path was still left unchosen. She only hoped she’d picked the right subjects to gain her the position she desired when the time came.



The time ticked by before Hermione felt her lids begin to droop and fell into a peaceful sleep.




Severus Snape gazed out of the window in the direction the Forbidden Forest. Raindrops battered the pane ceaselessly. He didn’t mind the noise. On the contrary, he preferred it. The sound made him feel less lonely somehow, but in a way he favoured over most human company. It was the silence he most feared. With no distractions, his mind tended to have a permanent focus on the memories that were the darkest, the most daunting. And there was no fleeing from them.



He strode over to the tall, wooden desk in the corner of the room. The cauldron was now shuddering and the burnt-orange coloured potion he had brewed four hours earlier bubbled excitedly within. He bent over the cauldron and inhaled deeply through his nose. He nodded absently to himself. The essence of Murtlap had done the trick. He poured some of the liquid into a large flagon, corked it and set it aside to give to Madam Pomfrey the following morning.



Satisfied that he could no more tonight, Snape cleared up the equipment strewn across the desk’s surface. The rain had begun to ease outside and only the occasional droplet tapped against the glass.



He made his way soundlessly across the room towards his bedroom door, only stopping to mutter “Nox.” The candle perched on the windowsill snuffed itself out and a small wisp of smoke floated dreamily upwards.




Hermione rushed to the Great Hall and settled herself beside Ron. Harry sat opposite her, and smiled through his mouthful of cornflakes.



“Cutting it a bit short, aren’t you?” observed Ron whilst chewing with his mouth open.



Hermione frowned at him. “Overslept.” She reached for the toast.



Harry pointed to an envelope on the table. “That came for you. Oh, and there’s your Daily Prophet too.”



“Thanks,” she picked up the envelope and then sighed as she recognised her mother’s handwriting. She placed it back on the table.



“What’s wrong?” asked Ron.



“Nothing,” said Hermione shortly and resumed buttering her slice of toast. Ron opened his mouth again but Harry shot him a warning look. Hermione’s tone of voice clearly meant she didn’t want to discuss it further.



Breaking the silence, Dean Thomas came over to them. “Here’s your timetables for this year.”



“Thanks Dean,” Harry took the small slips of parchment from his hand and handed Ron and Hermione theirs. Dean continued down the table to where Seamus and Lavender were sitting.



Ron looked at his first and groaned. “Double Divination first this morning. Typical. I think I’ve run out of ghastly ways to die.”



“Just ask Trelawney if you can you borrow a few of her predictions about me. I can’t wait to hear what she’s cooked up this year.” Harry sighed resignedly.



“You should have taken up Muggle Studies, or Arithmancy instead, like I told you. Then you could have learnt something worthwhile. Divination isn’t much use unless you’re born with Seer blood.”



“Hermione, if I need to know anything about Muggles, I can just ask you. That’s what you’re here for. And who does Arithmancy if they’re not forced to?” Ron reasoned.

“Me.”

“You see my point.”



Hermione rolled her eyes and stood up. “I need to get my books for Ancient Runes. I’ll see you at lunch. Have fun in Divination.”


Up at the High Table, Snape watched the Trio as they engaged in breakfast. Much as he had expected, there appeared to be no apparent change in the way they usually interacted. He glowered as normal at the way Weasley and Potter treated Granger. Hermione, although she had somewhat of a reputation of being an insufferable know-it-all, possessed remarkable magical ability, certainly. He had rarely seen such precision, concentration and brilliance in a young witch. There was no doubt that, if she wished, she could have a remarkable future ahead of her. The only thing he could see as a cord dragging her down was her “best friends”. When would she learn that shaking them off would be the only way to rise to challenges that were worthy of her? They would never see her talent, her focus, her-



Someone prodded him on the arm.

“What?” he said, irritably.

Poppy Pomfrey, who had been trying to gain his attention for a while, to no avail, stood at his side, looking offended, but still as haughty as she usually was.

“I simply wished to enquire if you had managed to brew up that Sleeping Draught for me.”

“Sleeping Dr-?” His attention was still elsewhere. “Oh, yes. Finished it last night. I’ll get a house elf to send it up before my first lesson.”



Madam Pomfrey nodded her thanks and continued down the table. Severus picked up his fork to spear the leftovers of his breakfast and lifted it to his mouth. He grimaced as he found the bacon to be stone cold and cursed himself for loosing his concentration. Dropping the fork, he pushed back his chair and left the Great Hall, his robes swishing forebodingly behind him.


A/N: My first SS/HG baby. Still ongoing and I have seventeen chapters left to post here with plans for a sequel once it's finished. Thanks to beta Angel.