Disclaimer: Hp world is created by JKR and AU and Ocs featuring in this story, hovering around it are mine.

Raindrops

Severus Snape suddenly realized that his source of youthful mirth, his reason to find the secret to a night of content sleep, and the real source behind his glee at teaching young witches and wizards those tricky maneuvers with their student broomsticks- Miss Hermione Granger, was about to complete a year of her apprenticeship.

The girl had worked as hard as her students. In fact, if she was not wearing robes like Hogwarts professors, he would easily fall back to considering her as any of the 7th years. Remus Lupin had been pestering him again. The man, after healing from his wounds post-Hogwarts Battle took time to be with his little motherless son. It was McGonagall who made the man see reason. "In order to give Ted a good life, you need a job, and Hogwarts would benefit from a competent teacher like you." Therefore, the man had come back a week before the yearly exams, to get accustomed to life at the castle.

Severus was delivering him his monthly dose of Wolfsbane potion all this while. But it seemed that Lupin needed a better and improved alternative. The previous variety would wane off, faster making the werewolf cagy and temperamental. The wolf sitting on the other side of Snape's lab mused," Good to see her grow out of her insecurities, though I think she hides a lot from the world. For a child, any traumatic experience like the one she had at the Malfoy Manor, turns into a weak spot, we need to keep an eye on her. My healers often mentioned her in passing, though much they said were off the records. It bugs me, the girl went through the Cruciatus Curse, but she seldom shows any signs of its after-effects. Is there a known way to self-medicating potions without letting others know, you know what I mean to say?"

"Impossible." the potion master's single monologue ended the conversation prematurely.

Snape, laying his stirring rod beside the now finished wolfsbane potion, turned off the burner and looked up," I think this will help you with your little predicament, I will give you a vial before you leave for the night."

That night he sat hidden in an alcove, watching the full moon glide through the soft clouds, the quietness of the night got disturbed occasionally the beastly howls of Remus from the shrieking shack. His thoughts still ran around the strange quietness that kept Hermione Granger focused on her academic pursuits. He decided he would step in a little closer, he would watch her like a hawk he would lend her a leaning shoulder, something utterly unexpected of the deadly potion master. If Minerva had failed her, he would not ignore the tell-tale signs of a person reliving a traumatic experience.

When Hermione achieved a perfect score at the end of her first year as an apprentice, Minerva claimed she was her proudest teacher, and Severus rolled his eyes at her. Every teacher gifted her with something or the other, but the potion master offered nothing in appreciation. He ignored the disapproving and disappointed looks his fellow teacher kept throwing at him throughout the diner feast the elves had cooked to honor Miss Hermione. Late into the night, an eagle owl brought her his present. A roll of parchments tied together with a single silver string. The young woman was shocked to see, it was her very first assignment, rather a well-preserved copy of it. Because instead of his biting terse comments this version was devoid of red ink markings. She had actually got full marks on it, contrary to its mediocre alternative. And below, she found the following lines, "I see the promise of the brightest witch in you, all you need to do, Miss Granger is start thinking!"

She stayed back during the summer break but then suddenly left, without any explanation. Her ill-conceived excuse of wanting to take a day's leave for personal errands made Snape acutely restless. Worried enough to bark at Poppy and Lupin, he finally went to Hogsmeade to get some potion ingredients and to spend some time at the bookstore. "Just to cool it off", he had gone on and on, muttering the words, as he made his way to the village. When he finally reached for the doorknob of Tomes and Scrolls, for the first time, he noticed those dark ominous clouds above ready to burst open into millions of raindrops any time now.

Meandering through the nearly empty shop, relishing the smell of new books and feeling the spines of those tomes with the tip of his bony finger, he still felt lost and inadequate. Thus, it was rather surprising to find Granger sitting on the floor with a book open on her lap, behind the shelves of the philosophy section. Out of habit, he hid out of her sight and through the rows of those new books, watched her minutely. Minutes passed, but her eyes never moved over the page, neither did she fiddle with her hair, a habit, Snape loved gazing at. It bothered him that she was just staring at it. He noticed her wet eyes, noticed, her red nose and flushed cheek, even in this dim-lit corner of the shop, he could tell, she was actually crying, discreetly wiping her face now and then. Her tears made him grab at his aching chest and go weak on his knee.

He weighed his options. Here outside the castle, away from the watchful eyes of his gossip-mongering colleagues and the general student body, he could afford to talk to her like a co-worker. He kept staring at her trying to come into some decision when a small sniff from her unhinged him, tossing away those stray thoughts of getting judged by people whose opinions never bothered him until now. This time he approached her on his own, realizing he indeed was prepared to consider himself as a friend. This word along with love, care, and family were the most precious things to Severus Snape because all of them were forbidden fruits he could never touch, or bite on.

Self-conscious and ill at ease, he did not pry as most people would do, under the circumstance. He never liked wasting his words in just stating the obvious. He tried his best to remain unaffected. In his deep baritone voice, he asked, "What are you reading Miss Granger, that made you forget to blink even?"

Startled, she had got up immediately trying hard to pretend that her presence in the bookstore was just coincidental. The book fell off her hands and hit the ground with a muted thump. He felt her eyes hovering over his face, determining whether, like old times, he was here to berate her. Then blurted out," for a moment I thought you were going to mock me." He crouched in front of her and discreetly thrusting his handkerchief into her palm. Whispering just the word "sorry", picked up the book and put it back at its designated place. Without turning, he walked ahead. He had to, or else, he would have created a scandalous scene, good enough for The Prophet to sell off its copies in just an hour. He would have hugged her and kissed her. But this was not the place and neither would she invite his advances like an old lover.

Surprised, she still kept looking at his retreating back. He was about to turn the corner, when he looked back at her and murmured, "If you don't wish to buy anything else, I am presuming you will safely find your way back to the billing counter?"

Out in the streets, he walked beside her like two colleagues would maintaining some distance between them. Her small feet dragged her body. For once he chose to follow her lead instead of barrelling through the streets like he usually did. Very soon, he felt his body settling into this lazy rhythm of slow walking, enjoying the rare sense of contentment he experienced for the first time. But, for Merlin's sake, he could not rule out the wariness that settled in the pit of his stomach at the sight of shoulders drooping, forlorn, and defected stance Miss Granger was projecting today. It gnawed at his conscience. That moment the sky decided to join in his plight and cried copious tears like a baby throwing a tantrum. It rained hard, making it impossible to see ahead, making it impossible to carry on. But the witch did not show any sign of hurrying for cover. Instead of walking up the regular path that led back to the castle, she ventured over to the fences of Shrieking Shack. Like a faithful guard he followed her, even mirroring her lack of enthusiasm at casting a dry spell. If she thought the raindrops could participate in her melancholy, he would quietly join in. When she turned suddenly, he had to gulp. The sight of her sad eyes torn through his mental shields. Desperate for some support, she urged him to comply with her very first request, "Take me inside."

He had still not set his foot inside the place of his near-death experience nevertheless he took her inside, keeping in mind this was the first thing she did indeed ask of him freely. Standing on the spot where he laid in the pool of his own blood, she finally allowed herself to break down. He too shuddered beside her as old memories of Nagini attacking him threatened to resurface. He sat beside her, waiting for her to say something. He kept mum, too shaken to just be there in that room, alive still.

Struggling to breathe, she finally let it out," Today is my parents' wedding anniversary. They died in a car crash though, last week. I got an owl from my PI, today morning...I did try to save them by altering their memories and sending them to Australia under pseudo names. Still, they just died because some drunk teenagers decided to go on a driving spree."

Burying her head over her folded knees, she continued in a broken voice, "But it is strange, each time I tried to imagine the very last moments of my parents before their car got hit, I saw you laying here shack in the pool of blood while I kept trying to mend your neck, tried to feed you potions, and did every I knew, both magical and muggle ways, to revive you. I felt helpless back then, just like today. Helplessly, I watched you stop breathing in front of my very eyes. You know, I am certain my boggart now would become just that…

Before she could say anything more, Snape had her resettled in his lap, so that she was sitting saddled over him, her head, nestled below his chin, her tears soaking through his cravat. Her hands hugged his shoulders tight. She cried on like an orphan for a long time. He heard everything, the pattering raindrops outside, her heaving breath, her unladylike hiccups, her whimpers, and the grief that finally called out giving her soul a voice of its own. Her words echoed the pain shouldered by her battered soul for so long," I am all alone in this big bad world."

His firm reply frightened her. The magical world was by now aware of the intensity of his promises and the grit of his determination. "Take your time, consider this: Me standing behind you for the rest of your life."

When they finally left by the trapdoor, a tabby cat had come out of the shadows, its eyes glistening with tears.