Hands, Palms, Fingers

Hamstrings groaning in angry protest, Hermione realized that perhaps her New Year's resolution should be the taking of an occasional break from academia- at least long enough to engage in some sort of physical activity, no matter how she despised the thought of said exercise. The dull burning in her lungs convinced her that while her beloved books were doing wonders for her mind, her body, while currently enjoyed its youthfully rapid metabolism, was deceivingly out of shape. True, the stairs to the Astronomy Tower were rather long, and steep, and ... perhaps it wasn't her fault that every muscle in her legs complained of all this unwelcome motion. No, no, no! There would be absolutely no excuses. Hermione Granger was nothing if not determined. Perhaps she could persuade Ron to let his two best friends introduce him to a Muggle sport. "Yes", she thought, "it was decided".

Hermione let out a sigh of frustration and exhaustion as she completed her journey to the top of the tower. It was uncommonly dark, but she was glad of it. The celebration in the Gryffindor common room had been exceptionally loud and unruly. Seventh year or not, Hermione had no inclination to imbibe the various alcoholic beverages which were littered across the side tables and even lay upon the ground. Of course, they had been transfigured into ornate vases and ink holders, so that any adult who passed might be none the wiser. Hermione had laughed at that. If Professor McGonagall were to step into Gryffindor tower to wish the students a Happy New Year, it would take her less than a moment to discern what was happening. Didn't they know this? Nobody had been particularly offended when Hermione had taken her leave. As she had stepped out of the room, some might have heard the words "any excuse for debauchery" trailing behind her. But no one seemed to notice, except for Ron, who had promptly rolled his eyes in the usual fashion when dealing with Hermione's "stick in the mud" tendencies.

Allowing her eyes time to adjust to the darkness as she stepped into the tower, Hermione took in a deep breath, reveling in her solitude. She had always enjoyed being alone. What some had deemed to be an antisocial inclination was in actuality merely a need to have a bit of peace and quiet. Hermione loved her friends and thoroughly enjoyed the time they spent together. But she had always been something of an old soul, never quite fitting in with her peers. At home she had been the misfit who had been able to retain only a few friends. The loneliness she had felt as a child had developed into the compulsion, every now and then, to take comfort in her own solitary thoughts and musings. And at the moment, the Astronomy Tower fit Hermione's needs perfectly.

She was almost excited as she made her way to her favorite ledge. She knew others would find this emotion foolish when applying it to a ledge. But the view from that spot was one she knew well, and standing there she always felt as if she was flying, while her feet still happily planted on the cold stone of Hogwarts. She couldn't wait. But a few feet from the railing and Hermione violently came to a halt. A dark figure, in all his billowing glory, had taken residence over her spot. The wind was running its hands through Professor Snape's ebony hair, and his cloak was performing a dance of its own in the blustering air. And although she couldn't see his face, Hermione felt waves of sadness emanating from his person.

Hermione frowned. It had always been her nature to help others, and she despised anyone who did not feel the same. But even she would not fault herself upon her current hesitation. Severus Snape was not a man who enjoyed the company of others- of this Hermione was certain. Therefore even in sadness she doubted he would be welcoming of her companionship. Yet Hermione had always had rather soft spot for this specific professor. He radiated a sense of solitude, which was something that appealed to her as well. He often exuded a stony silence, yet in that silence Hermione derived his knowledge and brilliance. And when he had taken to dispassionately rubbing his arm in class, with only the furrow between his brows to indicate his worry, Hermione had shared in his sadness. Still, she had no proclivity to being shouted at or insulted. But he was sitting there so still, but for his unbidden movements due to the wind. The chance to offer a bit of comfort to the man she s o greatly respected was too good to pass up; Hermione braced herself as she took her first step towards her professor.

Closer now, Hermione could now see his profile. She never knew a face could express so many simultaneous emotions. And she could name each one: emptiness, sorrow, despair, loneliness. She halted for only a second more before she came up to him, and gently settled her body into a sitting position next to his. Hermione tensed, waiting for the familiar onslaught of verbal insults that commonly left her professor's lips, and most likely an order to return to her room. But there was nothing. Growing braver, Hermione sneaked a look at his face. His countenance hadn't changed a bit. In fact, there was no sign at all that he knew of her presence. Hermione returned her eyes to her lap, emitting a little sigh as she did so. The view was lovely, as always. She stared off for a few minutes, surprised that she was able to let down her defenses in the company of Snape. But the worry line that had taken residence between Hermione's brows now rivaled that of the man sitting ne xt to her. This wasn't right. Should she get Dumbledore? As Hermione worried, she noticed a pale hand, with long fingers fiercely clutching the deep grooves in between the stones of the floor.

Very slowly, Hermione's hand made its way to Snape's. She let her fingers gently graze the top of his hand. His breath hitched, but he made no move to stop her. In fact, his hand had removed its vice-like grip from the ground and had relaxed somewhat. Relief flooded her face, and she ran her fingers over his hand a few more times before allowing hers to find a home in his palm. Her thumb ran over his skin, and she knew he must have been outside for some time; he was quite cool. Hermione softly removed her hand from Snape's and replaced it with her right. Her left hand made its way to his back, and slowly she rubbed soft, comforting circles over the rough fibers of his cloak. She stopped for a minute in confusion; was he shaking? She didn't have the nerve to look at his face, but once again began to rub his back. A few minutes later, and Severus' hand began to respond to her caress, and he gently applied pressure to her fingers, which were encased in his own. Her mione let out a smile then, and leaning her head softly on his shoulder, she closed her eyes, enjoying the solitude that she never knew could come when with another. She caringly continued to rub his back until she fell asleep, but not before she noticed a cool thumb drawing the same comforting designs on her hand that she had applied to his back.

A cool blast of air hit Hermione in the face, and was sufficient enough to raise her out of her peaceful slumber. She lazily opened her eyes to the bright light that was now bathing the entire tower in its glow. She looked around. She was alone. A little ball of sadness rose in her throat. She shouldn't have expected that he would stay. It must be very embarrassing for him, she thought, to have revealed himself to a student. And a Know It All student at that. Hermione groaned as she sat, bones aching almost as much as her muscles had on the climb up. She yawned severely, and then sighed. It took her a few moments longer to wonder why she wasn't cold. Glancing down, she realized he had left his cloak. In fact, it was neatly tucked around her to fend off the cool morning breeze. Hermione brought the cloak up her face and inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of spices and potion ingredients. She stood up, wrapping the cloak around her body, appreciating the warmt h and the scent of it. She didn't know when she would return it to him. He would certainly not appreciate if she did it in class. Hermione grinned. Perhaps she would hold onto it for a while. Lips still upturned, Hermione descended the stairs on a much easier journey towards the Head Girl's rooms.