Severus merely stood quietly and let Hermione cry. She needed to do this, to begin to process her grief. He did not know why she was blaming herself--it was the part of the story he had not been able to resolve to his satisfaction. As far as he had been able to determine, Weasley had been driving wholly in the Muggle way, though Severus could not fathom why. Hermione had sat beside him, her parents seated in the back. The Muggle police report had been clear that Weasley was not at fault in the accident. The vehicle had in fact been broadsided by a truck driven by an intoxicated driver. To a Muggle the whole scenario made perfect sense--a family had been devastated by a drunk driver; there was nothing they could have done to avoid the collision.
But to a wizard familiar with both Hermione’s and her husband’s formidable magical abilities, the accident made no sense at all. Why had they not simply removed themselves from the path of the truck? Or removed the truck from its trajectory? Any of a number of simple spells would have been sufficient to avoid the tragedy, yet none had been cast. Somehow Hermione must blame herself for that, though Severus could not comprehend why.
After several minutes, during which Hermione progressed through an entire box of hospital-grade tissues, Severus decided to interrupt her turmoil.
–Hermione.†He spoke gently at first and was not surprised that she did not react. He tried again, with more force. –Hermione!†Still she wept. Finally he resorted to the one tactic he hoped would get through to her. Slipping into an old persona he thought he had abandoned long ago, he spoke with an authority tinged with sarcasm. –Miss Granger!â€
To his immense relief, he saw her back stiffen as her body automatically responded to the memory from her scholastic days. Ever the conscientious student was Hermione Granger. Then he saw her eyes narrow as she processed what he had said.
–…not my name,†she managed to say.
Severus did smile now, his first real smile since entering her room. Hermione did not notice, as she was looking down at the crumpled tissues in her hands. –My apologies,†he said sincerely, –but I did nonetheless manage to get your attention. I understand how you feel--– He held up his hand as he saw her about to speak and interrupted himself. –Oh, yes, loss and grief are two things with which I am intimately familiar.†Though she did not visibly react to this statement, her silence told him she accepted it.
–Hermione,†he tried again. –You were hit by a drunk driver. It was neither your fault nor Mr. Weasley’s. You were the victims of an unfortunate reality of the Muggle world.â€
Hermione was mortified that she still retained such an instinctive response to the voice of Professor Severus Snape. Why, she had not been a student for more than twenty years! How could her muscles betray her so?
Yet this man was not the Professor Snape she had known those long years ago. Rather than sneering, disdaining, or even simply teasing her about Ron’s incompetence, Snape was standing next to her bed, letting her weep without a single disparaging remark, and telling her the accident was neither Ron’s nor her fault.
But she knew differently. It was all her fault, and hers alone, that she had lost nearly her whole family in one fateful moment.
–I wanted…I just wanted…no magic. Just one weekend, with my parents. I insisted. Ron didn’t want to do it, but I know how hard it was for my parents, how they always felt left out. I wanted to give them just one weekend without any magic, do things the Muggle way….†She knew she was babbling, just as she had done as a schoolgirl, but she could not seem to stop herself. It was almost therapeutic, this confession. So she continued to prattle on.
–I could never make up to them for stealing a year of their life. Things were never the same after that. My life as a witch was something I could never share with them; they could never really understand it. I felt torn between two worlds, one foot in Wizarding society, the other in the Muggle world.†She had to stop, for her throat was too dry again. She waited while Severus filled the cup from the small pitcher on the side table, still marveling at the contrast between this man an the one in her memories. What had happened to change him so?
Now he was nodding sagely, and she wondered at the look of understanding on his face.
–As a matter of fact, I have some idea of how that feels. But that still does not explain why you believe yourself to be at fault. The Hermione Granger I last knew was not prone to self-deprecation.â€
–Don’t you see? I made him drive without using any magic. So it was all my fault that we were even in that car, without our wands. We didn’t have them with us at all.â€
Everything was starting to make more sense now. Severus was mildly concerned that she was not in possession of her wand but at the same time was relieved that said wands were not in the possession of the Muggle authorities.
Tiring of looming over Hermione’s nearly supine form, Severus hooked his foot around the leg of the one chair in the room and pulled it over to him. He sat so that his face was level with Hermione’s and began speaking carefully.
–If there’s anything I have learned over the years, it is that life is full of little choices. We tend to focus on the big things: Who will I marry? What career will I have? Will I have children? But the important choices are those we make every single day. And sometimes a seemingly insignificant decision is the one that irrevocably changes the course of one’s life. It’s a struggle to live with the consequences of our choices.†He had to stop here, as the memories of some of his own choices threatened to overwhelm him. He managed to maintain eye contact with Hermione, however, and he saw her expression soften slightly in understanding. She knew of his demons, at least the ancient ones.
Soon he had composed himself and was able to continue. –At the end of the day, we must accept and learn to live with our choices. The most we can hope for as fallible human beings is that we, eventually, can learn to forgive ourselves for our mistakes.â€
Hermione was uncharacteristically speechless. Had Severus Snape found religion? What was all this talk about choices and forgiveness? Of course everyone knew of the horrors in his past, of the terrible choices he had been forced to make between the truly horrible and the utterly unthinkable. But no one knew what had happened to him since. How had he changed so?
Hermione’s thoughts brought her to the logical question. –How is it that you are here? Not here in this room, but here at all? We saw you die--†She choked up, remembering the deaths she had recently caused. How had Snape survived those long years ago, while today her husband and parents were really and truly gone?
Then a horrifying thought occurred to her. –Did you have a Horcrux?†she demanded before she could stop herself.
Snape looked neither surprised nor angry at her question. He looked her directly in the eye and asked her a question in reply. –Do you really think I, of all people, would want a Horcrux?†He said it matter-of-factly, without any hint of irony. –Horcruxes are for those who fear death, and who are willing to commit the unthinkable to thwart it. I had no fear of death; indeed it was living that frightened me. What did I have to live for?â€
Hermione relaxed, for she realized that he spoke in earnest. –Then how?†She left the question hanging.
Severus laced his fingers together and placed his elbows on his knees, leaning closer to Hermione before answering.
–It seems my unwavering loyalty to an old man did not go unrewarded. You are, of course, aware that phoenix tears can heal even mortal wounds. Albus Dumbledore’s Fawkes arrived as I lay teetering between the worlds of the living and the dead. At the time I thought I was desperate to move on. It turns out I had something to live for after all.â€
Hermione remembered the mysterious young woman who had arrived with Snape. Could she be his--
With that thought Hermione lost her composure yet again. –How am I going to tell Hugo and Rose that they’ll never see their father again?†She looked at Snape almost accusingly. –Why did you deserve to live and he didn’t?â€
Severus was not surprised that she had turned her anger on him. He was all too familiar with grief and anguish. He kept his eyes locked with hers, willing her not to look away. –That is a question I cannot answer. I little understand my own presence in this world and do not presume to comprehend anyone else’s. I know only that I was told I was needed here. And so I returned to fulfill a role I never expected to have.â€
At that moment his attention was diverted by a commotion at the doorway. A woman dressed in medical scrubs burst into the room and headed straight for Hermione and Severus.
–Ready to go, Mrs. Weasley?â€
A/N: Though I have ended the challenge of not using names, I have continued with the challenge I set for myself. Besides using the title of Les Miz songs for my chapter titles, I also have included a small portion of the titular song in each chapter. Even if only three or four words, there is a phrase in Chapter One from the song –What Have I Done†and a phrase in this chapter from –At the End of the Day.†This has proven to be a more difficult challenge but is one I plan to continue for the rest of the story.
A/N2: I really didn’t want to kill Ron, but I also didn’t want Ron and Hermione to choose to split. It was important to me for this story at least that she really and truly loved him. So death was the only way to get rid of him.