Hermione Snape and the Divergence Point: Volume #1

Chapter 8: Suspicions and Betrayals

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!" Hermione's father roared leaning over his desk. "YOU COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED! YOU NEARLY WERE KILLED! HAVE YOU ANY IDEA WHAT YOU'VE DONE?! YOU STUPID LITTLE GIRL! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

I see you've calmed down, Hermione thought trying-and failing- not to shrink against the wall. The man's tantrums still instilled her with fear, but they also now annoyed her. She had no clue what to do here. If she laid into her lie he would know, he always knew. But if she told him the truth, she would get an earful about how pathetic she was, and the boys...she wasn't naive enough to think he wouldn't seek some kind of retribution. Though when he was this angry, he might believe anything she told him. He seemed more than satisfied to believe he'd raised an idiot. She wondered if Hiro and Kaori were subject to such fits. She waited for him to finish. The worry that crossed his face last night...maybe she deserved this...

"AND TO TOP IT OFF LYING TO BOTH THE HEAD OF YOUR HOUSE AND ME! AND FOR WHAT?! THOSE IDIOTS?! THEY WERE PROBABLY LOOKING FOR TROUBLE LIKE THAT NIGHT IN THE TROPHY HALL! OF COURSE I FUCKING KNOW ABOUT THAT!"

Shit! That did surprise Hermione. How could he? But she hadn't told a soul. Had he been observing her mad comb through books in the library to find out what the cerberus was guarding? Did someone catch sight of them that night? Did he catch sight of her observing the door from time to time? Honestly, she'd been so focused on Hiro and school that she hadn't spent half the time she should have on it. Then she remembered.

Peeves saw them. Information he might have happily dropped to get out of trouble. If not that, she knew Severus Snape had his ways. He always had his finger on the pulse and Hermione equally envied, admired and hated him for it.

"Shit, Hermione!" he breathed rubbing his temples, still supporting his weight on his other hand. "Why, why does this keep happening?" he collapsed into his chair a moment later.

"Are you hurt?" Hermione asked, rushing to his side. Seeing his leg stuck out in front of him as if he couldn't fully move it Hermione swore in Elvish. "What happened?"

"I'm fine!" he snapped. "Not all of us are gifted with blind, stupid luck when faced with a monster!"

The troll did that to him? How'd he get away from it? No, she shouldn't have asked that. It was unfair, Hermione would have been far worse off if it wasn't for her 'blind stupid luck' and they both knew it. She still couldn't believe how she froze to the sight of the troll. Neville might have had doubts that he was brave enough to be in Gryffindor, but Hermione knew she wasn't.

"I'm sorry," she said, touching his arm. "Is there anything I can do?"

"I said I was fine," he said, his voice more even. "But I suppose I could tell you that a thousand times and you would still worry," he sighed, placing a hand on the top of her head.

"You know me too well," she shrugged. "If you tell me you're fine, I'll believe you."

"Just please tell me this wasn't some astronomically stupid idea to get the others to like you."

Hermione refrained from rolling her eyes. "Honestly, the thought hadn't crossed my mind. And if you're at all worried you gave me an astronomically stupid idea, I found out something very important about myself that would render that impossible."

"Oh?"

"I'm a bloody coward," she shrugged.

"My life would be a hell of a lot easier if that were true, love."

Coward? How he wished that were true. He never did get the truth from her, but he wasn't going to without twisting her little arm. Their little meeting ended with her losing four until eight o'clock every week day and Saturday afternoons until June to a task of his choosing. Perhaps it was harsh, but if she did go after the bloody thing, she could have died. And if he were honest, it kept her the hell away from Quirrell. There wasn't a soul that would believe Quirrell threatened her. Why didn't he just slip vereserum in his goblet and end the whole charade? He would confess to everything...unless he thought to defend against it.