Part 8- Hermione’s Advice
Hermione Granger started at the ringing of the phone next to her bed; blurred brown eyes squinting open as she searched for the phone. Having been taking a nap in the middle of the afternoon while writing upon parchment, she cursed her inability to stay awake, and her roaming hand found the cordless phone with a soft grunt as she brought it back to herself. She squinted out towards the bright Egyptian sunlight as she pressed the “talk” button, and put it to her ear.
“Hermione??” She jumped in shock, and she got out of the bed, adjusting her bra strap, which had twisted annoyingly. She glanced outwards through the glass door, which reached out to a balcony, and then back down to her rumpled bed. She sat back down upon the ruffled sheets and roughly brushed fuzzy hair back from her eyes.
“Harry, what’re you doing, calling me?” Hermione hissed, her dark brown eyes darting to the hotel door, suspiciously, as if someone was listening on the other side. “You know they trace back where the phone calls come-“
“Look, Hermione, they can’t track anything suspicious from a phone used in a muggle house, all right?” Harry shrugged indifferently, his voice nonchalant to calm his friend’s paranoia, as he paced back and forth in his room. He kept his heavy feet quiet against the rug, for Sirius Black was working on Auror papers downstairs, and even though he didn’t say anything to Harry about the racket, Harry had noticed that it bothered him. Sirius had ended up being involved in the war influentially, and once his name was cleared of all the charges accusing him of serving under Voldemort and killing innocent muggles, he had taken part in protecting Snape when Voldemort had discovered he had been spying for Dumbledore. While the war was going on, grudges were dropped, and everyone had worked together, whether they liked each other or not, and while this had happened, both Sirius and Snape had begun building a friendly relationship that had never really been on the best of terms. Remus Lupin stayed at Sirius’ house now, leaving once a month for obvious reasons, and both of them had created a secure family for Harry to rely upon. But why would Harry ask them about this kind of thing? They’d go into some sort of shock.
“Okay, okay, Harry,” Hermione’s voice sounded relieved. “So…how is everything going on there? I meant to send you something for Christmas, but I couldn’t find an owl to send it to you. It’ll have to wait until I get back. And did you know, Harry, that there were undiscovered pharaoh wizards? Isn’t that fantastic?” Hermione, always wanting to speak of things she learned, sounded excited. “Egypt is so nice here…” she sighed happily and trailed off.
“Everything’s fine,” Harry said, and his voice sounded flatter than usual. Hermione, smart as ever, caught on to the fact that he didn’t sound as spiffy as usual, and instantly asked him what was wrong. “Well, a few things have been happening, and it’s been a bit confusing…I was hoping you could help sort them out with me.”
“All right…what kind of problem is it?” Hermione stretched out on her bed in her purple and blue striped pajama pants and sports bra, staring out at the bright blue sky through the glass door. Hermione had chosen the best time to go to Egypt-in the winter, when it was mild, and there wasn’t such hot weather. She had always preferred a stormier weather, and a cooler one, as well. Egypt got especially hot in the summer, and intending to travel a little while studying different places with the many wizard professors that lived here, she chose this specific time to travel. Today was nice, with the sun out and the temperature comfortably warm, and Hermione was enjoying herself immensely.
“Well, it’s something I can’t talk to Ron about-you know how he is sometimes-“ Hermione nodded lightly, and Harry continued. “…uhm…well…it’s hard to say, but…well...”
“Harry, just tell me. You know I’m not going to tell you you’re wrong,” Hermione reassured.
“…Snape kissed me.”
“Professor Snape? The Professor Snape?” Hermione was suddenly breathless with shock, and Harry sat down upon his bed. “How did this come about?” She questioned, her voice full of curiosity, and Harry hesitated for a moment, wondering vaguely if he should tell her or not. Hermione was his best friend, someone he could trust, and she wouldn’t ever tell him what he thought was wrong-she’d give her honest opinion about this. Without thinking again about it, since he knew he wasn’t going to do it if he thought about it further, Harry decided to tell her.
“Well, we ran into each other when I was walking through Diagon Alley, just shopping around. He seemed to be in a horrid mood, but we started talking. I think he’s changed since he taught us-he was a lot warmer, I guess, but that’s not easy to say with him. We went into a local café-he invited me, and we started talking again. We got into a conversation-a conversation about my mum and dad, and he told me he was a Death Eater once.”
Hermione gasped. “That means he was serving You-excuse me, Voldemort?” She shifted and rolled onto her back, holding the phone tightly to her ear as if it were a lifesaving device, her curiosity being so great. Harry gave a soft sound of affirmation, and she covered her mouth with a hand. “So that’s what Dumbledore meant when he said that Snape had been personally involved with Voldemort-that he had once served him, not that he had once been a victim of him? That’s what we all thought…” she trailed off, and waited for him to speak and confirm her thoughts.
“Yeah,” Harry said, shortly, and he got up, walking over to the door and shutting it. He gave it a glance and wondered why it was cracked open, because he had shut it before and the hinges weren’t loose, so there wasn’t any reason for it to have opened again. Dismissing it as nothing, he sat down upon his bed once again. “And he told me how he was involved in my parents’ death. He was there.” Hermione was silent, just listening to her best friend. “I got sort of mad at him and stormed off, although I don’t know why I did it, and I left. The next day or so I went to Hogwarts-I decided to go and apologize to him, because it wasn’t his fault, and I had said some pretty nasty things to him. We decided to go ahead and not talk about it right then, because he had a class and was sort of busy. I sent him an owl a few days later, and we went out yesterday for lunch. I got sorta drunk, and we were just talking about whatever…and he helped me out of the restaurant, I guess. Then we were just standing there, and I was holding onto him because I couldn’t walk very well.” Harry paused, biting his lip as he looked up and found his door cracked open again. Not caring the least about it, since there wasn’t anyone in the house that could threaten him, he lay down onto the bed.
“Well, what happened?” Hermione whispered, her eyes wide. “Tell me, Harry!” The silence lengthened. “Are you there?”
“Yeah,” Harry responded, again, and he sighed. “He was holding me for a moment, and then I felt his lips press to mine. I didn’t think, because I knew it was someone I could trust-and then I opened my eyes and realized what was happening. Only vaguely, though. And I saw him kissing me, and I pulled away. I left him behind and left…and this older chap found me passed out in a alleyway and brought me back to an Inn, where he helped me with a Cleansing Potion and woke me up. I didn’t remember anything, and then he told me the spell that could recall my memory. That’s why I know what I do now.” Harry groaned and brushed his hair away from his glasses, frustrated. “So now, I don’t know what to do. I did that to him-and today’s Christmas Eve-and I know it hurt him a lot.” There was an even longer silence on Hermione’s side, and Harry squirmed uncomfortably, a thought occurring to him. “I hope you haven’t changed your mind about-“
“No, Harry, I haven’t. I still think that as long as you’re happy, it doesn’t matter what gender you choose,” Hermione said, exasperated. “I’m just trying to figure out a way for you to fix this situation. You’ve got yourself into a mess, you do know that, right?” There was a miserable sound at Harry’s side, and Hermione winced a bit. The statement hadn’t helped at all, and Hermione hadn’t meant to make it sound like that. “Sorry…hmm…” she thought for a moment, running her mind through the possible things Harry could do. “Well, the only thing I can think of is you going back and talking to him again.” She paused, and a smile slowly crept across her pouty, pink lips. “And give him the kiss he deserves, too.”
Harry spluttered wildly, his glasses falling off onto the bedding. Hermione giggled wildly, covering her mouth again, and Harry coughed. “W-what?”
“I told you to go give him the kiss he deserves.” Hermione tried to keep a straight face, but the side of her mouth twitched and she burst into laughter again. “Harry, you sound like a fish! Relax!”
Harry heaved a long breath, his nervousness jittering within his veins. “How do you know that I even like him that way, Hermione? He just kissed me!”
“You wouldn’t have even called me if you didn’t want me to confirm what you wanted, right?” Hermione said, in her usually haughty voice, making Harry jolt into reality. He had, hadn’t he? Harry gulped, holding the phone tightly to his ear. “If you didn’t want me to tell you to kiss him back, you wouldn’t have called me for such a simple thing-you would have just abandoned him there, and not asked for advice.”
“I don’t care about people that much!! M-maybe I just wanted-“
“Oh, do shut up, Harry! Don’t lie-you know it yourself!” Hermione’s voice was laced with amusement.
“Okay, then, so explain why you want me to go back and kiss him!” Harry replied hurriedly, his voice flustered as he desperately tried to find a comeback to the humiliating thought Hermione had revealed to him. He squirmed on the clean sheets, sighing as his cheeks burned with an embarrassed blush. “Professor Snape always beat up on you and said you were a know-it-all. So why’re you being so nice to him now?”
Hermione bit her tongue against saying something rather blush-worthy. “Well, it was a long time ago, right after the war, you know. He had changed; too…he wasn’t so bitter and sharp with his students. I think it was at the graduation. He had stopped getting so irate at me after the war ended, didn’t you notice that? When we were supposed to talk to the teachers individually and leave, he told me something that completely changed my mind about him. He told me vaguely that I had been the best student out of our class, and he seemed a little abashed about it. I think it took him a lot to admit he had been wrong, especially because he never expresses his like for anyone. It was his kind of praise, I suppose, and it was so unclear it took me a few days to figure out what he had said. Once it had hit me, though, I had thought about it a bit. I know it’s hard to read into his emotions, but they’re there, and no one can deny it unless they tried.” Harry couldn’t agree more, since Snape had always been closed off, and the only emotion he seemed to put forth was anger and bitterness. “Don’t you remember, with Professor Lupin- Snape was always so angry, and Professor wasn’t disturbed in the very least…? It was because Lupin could read between the lines, even though it was a difficult task.”
“I guess you’re right…” Harry agreed, defeated. Hermione had always been too intelligent for her own good, and sometimes Harry had wondered how she had gotten such a mind within her head. Her entire family was a muggle family, and it didn’t make much sense to him. He supposed it was her initiative to study and examine things from a logical way, almost like that Divination class…she had hated it because it was practically unknown. She had quit out of that class, and Harry couldn’t blame her. Staring at lumps of wet tea leaves and examining the lines on one’s palms wasn’t her idea of something productive.
“Of course I am!” Hermione said, egotistically, and Harry could hear the playful smile in her voice. Everyone had teased her about being intelligent in school, but what did their teasing get them? Not good grades, of course. Harry shut his eyes for a moment as he was brought back into the past, that one night in the library…he shook his head and noticed Hermione had fallen into her own silence as well. “Well, Harry, I suppose I should go. Oh-and some advice: string him up tightly on the headboard, or he’ll slip and burn himself with whatever’s tying him up there, all right? Good luck, Harry-I’ll send post later!” The phone on her side hung up with a click.
Harry’s green eyes closed lazily in the silence, and then opened again, a dirty smile creeping across his lips at the advice she had given. “Good bye, Hermione,” he said to his friend, whom had hung up the phone already, and he pressed the “off” button.
(^.~ Everyone enjoy this? Well…I hope so. It seemed to be rather fast to me, and I feel as if it should have lasted longer…oh well, Harry did get his advice. The information about Egypt is correct. They don’t have cold, cold winters, and even though spring is a nice time to go there, I think Hermione would like to go there at a relatively cold time. It rains sometimes, but is comfortably warm a majority of the time. I’m working hard! Thank you all for your reviews…it’s helped me so much, I love looking at them and getting inspiration from knowing that people enjoy my work. ^_^)