Disclaimer : Just playing with J.K Rowling's characters and my imagination, .
rated M for later violence and mention of consensual sex
Post-war, later Ron bashing.
A Challenge of an Unexpected Sort
Chapter 1
They had won. They had won and she was expected to move on. She had been expected to move on for a while now. Hermione could not remember when and how she had been stuck in her grief, but she couldn't shake it off. Nobody understood. Nobody understood, because nobody knew. Her relationship with Fred Weasley had been kept secret, not so much because they had hidden it, but because it was so simple and unexpected that nobody ever saw through them. George had, yes, but he had kept it to himself and was now so far deep in his own grief he couldn't even talk. No one understood why the Gryffindor Princess, the brightest member of the Golden Trio, had taken such a blow at the end of the war. Sure, her parents were forever lost to her, but at least they were alive, weren't they? Her bestfriends Harry an Ron had also survived and got on with their life and Auror training.
She didn't even think that she was or had ever been in love with Fred. It had just started as flirtation, then seduction, and finally discovery of themselves and their sexuality. They had not professed love or commitment, they were just happy to be in each other presence when they were, with no need of social acknowledgement, and no promise. It was another kind of intense and deep friendship, and she felt as she had lost her lover, one of her bestfriends and her confident at the same time. She just felt so alone, so powerless. It didn't seem right to laugh, to smile or even to talk. It didn't seem right. So she had resorted to lock herself up in a small apartment in Muggle London she had bought when she realized her parents would never come back to their house.
At first everybody had tried to get her out of her painful lethargy. Now, only Harry and Luna came by once a month to make sure she had not died without anyone being aware of it. She felt even more miserable. Too miserable to get out of it. And even if she had wanted to, she had no idea where to start. She just wanted to sleep for the rest of her life, and not fight ever again, even her own demons, even for her own good.
Severus Snape had expected a sad sight when his former student had opened her door, but not one as pitiful as such. She might have hastily scourgified herself before opening the door, but she had surely not used her shower in a while. Her hair was an unspeakable mess, and so were her muggle clothes. Harry Potter, wizard extraordinaire, had begged him to go see her. At his remark that he didn't know what good it'd do, the savior of the wizarding world had argued that he was desperate, he had tried everything else in his power, and that she might still want to impress a professor.
And indeed, Hermione was mortified to see him, especially in the state she was in.
"Forgotten the basic social rules, have we Miss Granger?" He asked with a grimace.
"Sorry, Professor. It's just... I'm not... I wasn't expecting any visitor," she said without letting him in.
"Clearly... If your apartment is as much a mess as you are, I should go have a coffee downstairs and come back then", he concluded.
As he turned back to leave, she stopped him by touching his arm
"Excuse me but why are you here, Professor?"
"We need to talk". His words sounded without appeal and with them he left a baffled Hermione on her own threshold.
What did he need to talk to her about? While closing her door, she realized it was the first time since the end of the war that her interest was picked. Not knowing exactly why she did, she started to make her living room and kitchen presentable, before taking a quick shower. She always avoided her reflection but this time she must have been distracted and found her own eyes in the mirror. She did look terrible. She had probably lost 20 pounds since the end of the war, her skin was hopelessly dry and so was her untamable mane of hair. She had a somewhat gray completion, numerous bruises, and looked overall sick and tired. She felt it, too. Berating herself for having made the mistake of looking at her naked body, she picked up some underwear, the first pair of jeans and button down shirt she could find. She was putting on her woolen pullover when she heard him knock again at the door.
As if it were a reflex she invited him inside and saw that he seemed somewhat satisfied by the state of her apartment, and maybe even hers. Putting a strand of her hair behind her ear in embarrassment, she motioned to the couch and the chairs around the table, not knowing where he wanted to conduct his business. He chose the table.
Hermione felt at loss. She had not entertained guests... ever, and there was her former Potions professor, war hero and double agent, comfortably sat at her living room table. He looked at her pointedly and she asked the first thing that crossed her mind : "Tea, sir?"
"Do you have coffee, Miss Granger?" He had not gone to have a cuppa as he had said he would, but had merely waited, disillusioned in the street, for an amount of time he deemed enough for her to get herself and her place presentable. Severus Snape had no wish to socialize with muggles on that day.
"I'm afraid not" To be honest, it was a miracle she even had tea. Luna had brought it to her the last time she had been there. She had forgotten what type of tea it was and was relieved when he didn't ask.
"Tea will do, then. Thank you. No milk and no sugar, if you please"
She nodded and disappeared in the kitchen.
Severus listened attentively to the noises in the other room, afraid she might break. His former lively and insufferable student looked now as harmless as a mouse and sad as grief. He was not really surprised. When her bestfriend had begged him to go see her to knock some sense into her, he had depicted a pitiful and sad portrait. It was faithful to reality, unfortunately, he had not exaggerated. It was going to be harder than he had expected. It was surprising, how this incredibly smart, strong and beautiful young woman had transformed into this weak being, there had to be reason. It would be difficult to get it out from her, and to convince her to get her life back on track, but Severus found himself in need of a good challenge, so he would take it.
She came back a few minutes later with two cups of black tea and handed him one before sitting down across from him.
"What can I help you with, Professor?"
"First, you could stop addressing me as 'Professor', as I am no longer one, much less yours."
"What should I call you, then?"
"Snape. Severus. Sir. Whatever you prefer, but not 'Professor'" he answered tiredly. He really didn't care, at that point. It made him feel weird to be adressed as such by her. It made him feel out of place. Old. And it was already starting to be unnerving how she was in complete apathy, anything would do to get a reaction out of her. She indeed looked surprised he would let her call him by his first name but made no remark. She took a sip of her tea and put back the cup on the table, looking at him expectantly.
"Very well, Sir. Now..."
"Yes, to business", he cut her sentence. I can see that you are a very busy witch so I won't take much more of your time", he added with sarcasm. At that she lifted one eyebrow and rolled her eyes. That should have angered him but it actually pleased him to see her spirit was still there, hidden somewhere.
"I need you."
The statement left her speechless. Better, it had made her an open-mouthed speechless witch. He could have cracked up in laughter if only he hadn't a reputation to maintain. Now she blushed nicely, closed her mouth and rattled her throat before speaking. Maybe all wasn't lost, maybe she wasn't going to die a sad prudish spinster after all, who would have thought?! He looked at her appraisingly before noticing her thinness, her pale complexion and some marks that looked like bruised hidden by her collar. Was she sick?
"Excuse me but what do you mean by that, Sir?" He noticed that she took her cup with both hands to try to give herself some countenance. Her shoulders lifted a little at that, a curl of her hair brushing her neck and collar, where the possible mark appeared. He gazed back at her face.
"I started my own business in Potions and Charms, directly after I had recovered from Nagini's bite", it didn't remind him of good times. The pain had been excruciating, the feeling of death almost liberating, and the recovery long and frustrating. But he was now perfectly healthy and the fat ugly scar he had on his neck was the only proof of what had happened to him. To his surprise he had woken up being celebrated as a hero, thanks to the ever nosy Potter. He found he actually liked not being abhorred by the entire wizarding community, so he had only shrugged at Harry's apologies and praise and asked him to not share his memories anymore. So far, everything had finally worked out for him.
"And...?" She asked as if he were a two-years-old, getting frustrated and forgetting her fatigue.
"And..." He didn't finish his sentence and sighed. "It seems you're going to make me beg for it. I hope you're enjoying this, witch." He was enjoying this so much he thought it might show on his face. But the look she gave him was priceless and proof it did not. He was exaggerating to the extreme but it was worth it, and worth seeing that her spirit was not dead. "I have not expected the ever-growing success of my enterprise and find myself unable to honor all of the orders made to my company. I need someone clever, someone fast, someone who'll do what I ask and do it well". He watched her with hidden satisfaction what it was clear that she had finally understood. "I need you to work for me".
