And In The End
The wind whipped her hair around as she ran, breathing heavily, toward the Whomping Willow. The tears on her face streaked back on her cheeks before they could even drop. She was physically exhausted and mentally weary, but the one thought that kept her feet moving was, "Please don't go. Please don't leave me."
~oo00oo~
The sight of all the bodies laid out in the Great Hall had numbed her. There were so many of her friends who died in that last battle - Remus and Tonks, Fred Weasley, the Creevey brothers; it was almost too much to comprehend. She sat against the wall, tears streaming down her face, staring without thought and not hearing a single thing, except the blood rushing through her ears.
She didn't quite realize it at first, that she could hear his voice calling her.
"Granger," he called, a whisper in the back of her brain.
"What will George do without his mate, his other half?" was one of her first coherent thoughts. It was too much to think about, but the practical, logical Hermione knew she had to try.
"Granger! Hermione Granger!" his voice called, becoming slightly louder and coming somewhere deep inside her brain. She tried to get the cogs working again.
"And poor Teddy Lupin, he'll never know . . ."
"HERMIONE!"
Hermione's head jerked up at the now quite strong voice, shouting with all its might in her head. She looked around, finally seeing and hearing everything as her mind clicked back into place and her more normal logic kicked in.
"I'm here," she whispered to no one. Everyone else was helping the wounded or grieving, assuming that Hermione was doing the same. The Weasleys had all gathered together in one family bunch, Percy included, mourning Fred's death. Harry and Ginny comforted each other as the realization hit them that it was finally over and they could be together. Andromeda Tonks played with Teddy, her voice steady except for the occasional short sob when he changed his hair from electric blue to a bright shocking pink and back again. Even as Minerva McGonagall directed the triage of wounded and procession of hysterical families like a general commanding an army, she knew that at some point, (but not now) she would sit and weep for all that was lost.
But there was no one there to give Hermione any comfort; no family of her own, her friends wrapped up in their own sad relief that it was all finally over.
"Come to me, Hermione, I need you." His voice was vaguely familiar, she knew it.
She shook her head quickly, trying to make sense. "Where are you?" she cried out softly, only a few people looking around at her outburst.
"You know where I am. Please, Hermione, I need help and you're . . ." the voice paused, reluctant, ". . the only one I know who can help." The voice was stronger now, and entirely recognizable. "Miss Granger, if you're really the bloody "know-it-all", you'll get your arse up here and keep me from bleeding to death!"
Hermione reeled. Oh for heaven's sake, that couldn't really be him, could it? She and Harry had watched Severus Snape die on the floor of the Shrieking Shack not two hours previously.
"You watched me get bitten and fall, you didn't watch me die, you silly girl. Come here at once." His voice paused, and then he spoke quietly, with a definite pathos, "Please, Hermione."
Hermione snatched up her wand, which was really Bellatrix's, and hurried over to the supplies table that the mediwitches and wizards were using. Without a twinge of regret for stealing, she grabbed up the basic potions and bandages she thought she might need: Blood-Replenishing Potion, a Bezoar just in case, Dittany and plain old Dreamless Sleep. Throwing these into her bottomless bag, she rushed out of the Great Hall and onto the grounds of Hogwarts.
~oo00oo~
Crookshanks, sitting patiently outside, streaked after his mistress when he saw her run out the front gates. Half-Kneazle that he was, he could tell something other than what was obviously going on was distressing her. She ran quickly, but just as quickly he followed her, and finally caught up to her at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
His instincts kicked in, then, and he ducked under her, wove past the flailing branches of the Whomping Willow, and pressed the knot he knew would make the tree stand still.
"Good boy, Crooks," Hermione called as she ran to the tunnel hidden beneath the roots of the tree. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
~oo00oo~
"It's about time you got here."
She was quite out of breath, and in a fair panic, when she reached the Shrieking Shack, but seeing Professor Snape sitting there bleeding, and hearing his snarky attitude already, she promptly went into action. She knelt beside him, muttering, "Don't be gracious or anything," and proceeded to shove first a bottle of Blood Replenisher, then a vial of Pain Reliever at him.
These he took good-naturedly, knowing that for someone who wore her heart on her sleeve, Hermione Granger was no slouch at taking care of wounded animals, including, now, him. The look on her face was worth the snark. He downed both potions immediately.
Severus sighed with some relief as the pain potion kicked in, and slumped down against the wall of the Shrieking Shack. After sitting himself up, and then calling Hermione with his thoughts (and why in the world did it take him three tries to get her attention?), Severus was bloody tired. Of course, the snake bite and the bleeding out didn't help. He'd taken a good amount of anti-venin over the past two years, knowing that the Dark Lord was apt to reward his pet with meals of prisoners and certain Death Eaters who had failed him. There was little or no poison left in his system, and he was remarkably glad that it was mostly just blood loss at this point, but he was weary.
Hermione dabbed Dittany onto the wound, staunching the blood flow and healing a good portion of the area around the bite. However, the flesh right at the wound didn't seem to want to knit together, and Bellatrix's wand was not helping when she tried to charm the skin.
"Dammit to bloody hell!"
"Miss Granger, I would remind you that you are in the presence of a teacher," was the automatic response, but it came out weakly, and Snape was losing the battle to slip into unconsciousness quickly.
"Easy for you to say," she snarled. "You're not the one working on the Mr. Wonderful Snarky Pants Potions Master." She looked at him, but her smirk faded. She could see that Severus was fading quickly, and decided to take a different approach.
As he slid effortlessly into darkness, the last thing he heard was Hermione transfiguring something, cursing at the wand she was using, and trying again, then the soft grinding sounds of mortar and pestle.
~oo00oo~
The soft, gentle touch of her hands, the whispered voices above his head, and the relief from the pain of the wound and the easing of his soul – if this was the afterlife, he wanted to stay. If he was ultimately headed somewhere more sinister, then please God allow him a few more minutes in this place.
Hermione's eyes drooped as she wiped Professor Snape's brow with a cool cloth. Between rushing to find him, trying to heal him with Bellatrix's awful wand, grinding the Bezoar and sprinkling it on the open wound, and then sending her (changed?) Patronus to McGonagall, she was exhausted. She had fought both Minerva and Poppy Pomfrey in order to stay with Severus, but in the end, they were happy that someone else was willing and able to keep watch – there were too many others who also needed their attention, so very many others.
Hermione whispered nothings into the air, weariness keeping her from making sense, but her innate sense of duty and heart of compassion made her not want to give up. Finally, she couldn't do it any longer, and, lifting the duvet that covered Severus, lay down in the bed next to him.
"Budge over, Crooks. M'sleepy."
Severus, who had been awake and observing her for some time, only hesitated for a moment before reaching out and drawing her into him. He figured he might as well. It had been well over a year since his last "encounter" and between the hell that was Voldemort and the hell that was crushing loneliness in the task he'd had – well, enough was enough. Even if Minerva had his balls for this, he was going to take what he could get as long as he could get it.
Actually, sex never really crossed his mind. He was too impressed with Hermione's courage and, dare he say it, Gryffindor-ish, foolish devotion to think that she would either be easy to bed or willing to allow circumstances to dictate her life. He had watched, fading in and out of consciousness, as this girl (young woman, really), despite her own need for comfort and care, literally stood between him and Minerva McGonagall in order to ensure his safety. Vague conversation wandered in and out of his memory.
"You know and I know he was the real hero of this war, so don't you dare tell me I can't take care of him!"
"Hermione, my dear, I understand your concern, but more experienced hands . . ."
"No, Professor, I'm sorry, but I can't let anyone else try to take him away from me."
"Hermione, no one is arguing that you saved his life, just that you're also in need of assistance, and we just want to help. Don't you think he should go to the Hospital Wing? And you can take a break as well."
"He's staying right where he is, in his own rooms, and I'm fine. I'm not leaving him again."
It was incredible, as tired as she was, that this little lioness was defending the wounded serpent.
He closed his eyes, snuggled his angles closer to her curves, and dropped off again, this time into a deep sleep unencumbered with nightmares of blood and death.
~oo00oo~
Minerva McGonagall swiped at a stray tear as she observed the sleeping couple. She had almost nothing left of her heart after the past three days, certainly nothing that would allow her to disturb the peacefulness in this room. There was no more anger, very little grief, and only a vague sense of wrong as she looked at the smiles on their sleeping faces.
She had suspected Severus of still playing the spy game all during the previous year; she wasn't stupid, and she knew an Albus Dumbledore Manipulation when she saw one. She had played along, understanding that it would mean Severus' life if she let on, but tried very subtly to encourage him, even if it was only an anonymous flower on his tea tray when she knew he would be awake all night. And she watched the house-elves work hard on his behalf, not out of fear or duty – these were Hogwarts elves, and they knew what was what. She had noticed a similar lack of helpfulness from them for the Carrows, and felt slightly smug and very proud of her Hogwarts family. That the man finally found comfort in a young woman's arms was not very disturbing to her anymore. Even if it was her favourite cub.
Minerva shut the door to Severus' quarters quietly, one finger over her lips as she turned back to the two young men who had accompanied her.
"She's taking care of him, and right now they're both sleeping peacefully. I'll thank you not to disturb them for at least another day, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley."
Harry nodded, understanding what Minerva wasn't saying, but Ron, thick-headed as ever, huffed as he spun toward the door, "He'd better appreciate what she's doing for him, taking care of him like this. I could've used her help myself the past couple of days, but noooo, she has to go running off to save the great git." Harry rolled his eyes at Ron, and giving McGonagall a nod, walked out after his friend.
Minerva gave the bedroom door one more glance, then left the dungeons quietly, warding the door against intruders and placing an alert on the entire quarters so she would know when they were up and about again.
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
Harry Potter had died. Well, he was alive now, but in order for the final Horcrux to be destroyed, Harry's body had to die. His spirit, after a discussion with Albus, his parents and Sirius, decided his body had been dead long enough and reunited with it in order to finish what had been dubbed "The Final Battle" with You-Know-Who.
Given that dying could change one's perspective on life slightly, Harry had very much grown up in just those few minutes. No longer was he the rash, impulsive boy who might rush into danger at the drop of a hat. Living with Hermione for a year, with her bossing him around in a tent - it had tempered him somewhat, but death finalized his transition from boy to man. Very little could surprise him now, or at least very little would make him lose control anymore. After fighting Voldemort, reliving Severus Snape's memories and dying, there pretty much wasn't anything left that he hadn't seen or done.
So when Minerva McGonagall had stated that Hermione was taking care of Snape (Professor Snape, Harry – he could hear Hermione's voice!), and that they were sleeping, he had come to the conclusion that, like everyone else around him they both needed someone to hold onto. Hermione's parents were in Australia with their memories modified, and Professor Snape – well, it must have been a horrendous year, even for him. No doubt the comfort of being held in someone's arms without any time limits or recriminations was enough motivation for him not to worry. He and Ginny had spent the last few nights together after all, and even Molly Weasley had not said a word.
"Harry, what the hell is wrong with you? Can't you see she's being manipulated?" Ronald Weasley, ever the hot head, was whinging once more in Harry's ear. He had complained loud and long all the way back up from Professor Snape's quarters to the Great Hall, and Harry had not said a word, either in defense or criticism, hoping that Ron would calm down. Finally, he couldn't stand it any longer.
"Ron, leave it. Hermione is fine, the Professor is fine, let's just focus on the next thing," Harry said as they reached the doors of the Great Hall. He put his hand on Ron's shoulder and stopped him for a moment. "You know, you could give Hermione a break. She's looked after both of us for so long, would you take away the one thing making her feel safe right now?"
Ron stared at Harry. No, it couldn't be. Snape? And Hermione? No, it wasn't worth thinking about. Hermione? And Snape? Ron's ears turned red, and Harry was worried he'd see steam from them even without Pepper-Up potion. He tightened the grip on Ron's shoulder, hoping to somehow give him some of his own maturity, through osmosis maybe, or even just a sense of peace after the chaos.
Ron, for his part, couldn't move, couldn't speak. He was great at battlefield strategy and smart enough to react in a hurry to emergencies, but the gears in his brain clicked along very slowly when it came to affairs of the heart. If he thought about it though, which he actually did at this point, Hermione and the Greasy Git had a lot in common. They were both brains, both without any family, or at least for now Hermione was. Snape had protected them even while playing his part as spy, while Hermione had mothered and protected them for the past seven years. She had talked of teaching, Snape was already a professor. He decided maybe it was a match made in heaven.
Still, Ron had his doubts. The kiss he and Hermione had shared at the end of the Final Battle was good, but even Ron knew it was only a reaction to the circumstances. It had felt right at the time, and he had briefly cherished thoughts of home and family with Hermione. Perhaps a brood of red-headed squirts, some of them as smart as their mother and all of them good at sport, of course. But as Ron stood there, with Harry's hand on his shoulder, he realized that no matter what he wished for, Hermione would probably have something to say about it. Becoming another Molly Weasley wouldn't be part of it.
"Ron?"
"Yeah, Harry, okay, I get it. I know he's a good guy underneath, and Hermione is way too smart for me, but it's just hard to take in after so much else." Harry blew out a sigh of relief.
"Look at it from a chess point of view - no matter how fancy the knight's moves are, the Queen can go anywhere she wants, and if anyone deserves to be treated like a queen, it's Hermione," said Harry.
Ron gave his friend a lopsided smile. "Everything is chess in the end, yeah, Harry?"
Harry couldn't help it. He turned full-on to Ron and gave him a great big bear hug. Ron accepted it in the spirit it was given, but quickly shoved him away with a laugh. "Hey, that's enough of that!"
Harry mock-pouted and said, "Aww, you're no fun."
The response was pure Ron: "I'm lots of fun, you're just not my type."
~oo00oo~
Hermione and Severus woke simultaneously when they heard the POP of a house elf appearing in Snape's bedroom.
"Headmaster and Missy needs to eats. Transfigure Professor says so," stated the elf importantly. She laid a large tray on the floor to put her hands on her hips. "Yous been sleeping for too long, she says, and even Headmasters and Missys needs to eats."
The elf picked up the tray and flicked a finger at the bedroom door, which opened automatically for her. She stalked into the lounge like she owned the place, snapped her fingers to make a pot of tea appear, and stalked back into the bedroom imperiously.
"Why is you stills in bed? Does Tappy needs to drags you out?" She tugged a corner of the duvet. Both Severus and Hermione grabbed it back quickly.
"Thank you Tappy, we will be in shortly. You may return to Professor McGonagall and tell her we are awake and eating," Severus said in his most Headmaster-ish voice. Tappy gave a haughty sniff, snapped her fingers and disappeared as quickly as she came. Severus buried his face in his hand and shook it slightly. A gasp and sharp movement brought his head back up and he and Hermione stared at one another for a long moment.
Severus held up a hand to stop her rambling before it began and took a deep breath. "Hermione, if Minerva McGonagall knows we're both here, you can be sure she doesn't care what the circumstances are and only wants us to "eats". If you would calm down a moment," he paused for effect, "you would see that you are fully clothed and none the worse for wear."
Hermione stood stock still as she considered his words. He wasn't angry; in fact he was smiling in a friendly way, rather than the usual snarky smirk that formed his lips. He had called her Hermione. He was sitting up in bed, not sick, nor feverish. He even looked a bit boyish as he ran his hand through his hair to bring it out of his face. He had called her Hermione. This was not the Professor Snape she knew and (loved) . . . she stopped that thought right there. And she was fully clothed. And he had called her Hermione.
"I . . . it's . . .there's so much . . ." Hermione, for once in her life, was speechless. She was overjoyed that he was alive, glad that grinding the bezoar and sprinkling the particles over the open snakebite had finally stopped the flow of blood, relieved that at least one person who could be saved had been. Severus couldn't help it – he laughed out loud at the expression on Hermione's face. Between confusion and sleepiness and embarrassment, it was a bewildered look that, on her, was simply adorable.
Hermione, suddenly realizing the bizarre circumstances, giggled at first, then joined him in peals of laughter. She sat back down on the edge of the bed and they laughed for a few more moments before taking deep, cleansing breaths to calm themselves down. It was cathartic to laugh after the past few days (the past few years), and they shared a quiet relief.
"Erm, I'll just use the loo and wash up quickly, shall I?" Hermione stood again, looking at her former Potion's Master for permission. Severus nodded and smiled once again at her. She smiled back, tentatively at first, but then grinned widely as she turned and headed to the bathroom.
Severus, mindful of his own state of undress, grabbed his robe off a chair and wrapped up in it. When Hermione came out, he looked at her fresh, clean face and crazy hair. "If you don't mind, I think I'll jump in the shower quickly – I'd like to wash off the . . . um . . ." Hermione nodded her head quickly. "I understand, Professor. I'll just make sure the food is still hot, and I'll leave you to it."
Severus reached out as she turned to go. "I didn't mean for you to leave – I just need a good wash to wake up. Please stay." Something in his voice made her heart jump and they stared at one another. Hermione felt she could get lost in his eyes, but found something she liked better: a sincere desire for her to remain close by. She smiled sweetly (beautifully – dammit Severus, you're hooked!) and nodded again, turning to go into the lounge. Severus held onto her hand for a moment before bringing it to his mouth and kissing it softly. Hermione's eyes widened, but Severus was quick and had hurried into the bathroom before she had a chance to say anything.
~oo00oo~
It didn't happen with a bang or violent kiss; no tears of joy were shed, no angry words were exchanged and then made up in true romantic style. Hermione simply moved into Snape's quarters and made herself at home. She'd been living in a tent for a year after all, and everything she owned was in her infamous bottomless bag already, so what else was there to do? Severus took it in stride, knowing the conversation would happen eventually, and allowed her to use his soap and shampoo, make tea for the both of them and bully him into taking the medicines Poppy Pomfrey had prescribed post-snake bite.
Hermione, for her part, didn't even consider leaving. Severus had asked her to stay that first morning, and she took it as such that she was needed. They'd had a loud and rather vitriolic argument about Earl Grey vs. herbal tea (which Hermione had won by saying she needed the caffeine if she had to put up with his snarky arse for very long), and they settled into a daily routine that comforted them both with its semblance of normality.
Severus was already up and making Hermione's Earl Grey when she emerged from the bedroom some three weeks after the Final Battle. Her hair was bushier than usual this morning, but it was understandable considering the nightmares that had plagued her the last few nights. Severus had held her and soothed her back to sleep time and time again, knowing what must be going through her subconscious every time she closed her eyes. He had them too, the nightmares, but after having lived the ultimate nightmare for so long in real life, he'd become adept at recognizing the false visions and relegating them to their proper place in his head. Rather like a boggart, Severus would incant "Riddikulus" in his dreams and be able to finish sleeping peacefully.
Hermione sat down heavily at the table, head in hands. Severus placed a mug of tea in front of her, scooting the sugar bowl close, knowing her sweet tooth demanded satisfaction. It had truly been awful last night for her: Fred Weasley had risen from the grave, accusing Hermione of abandoning him at the battle, which wasn't true – she was nowhere near Fred at the time of his death. Then Remus and Tonks had come, and the three of them circled Hermione like a pack of wolves, shouting at her for betraying them and telling her that if she really loved them, she would have died with them. Hermione cried real tears in her sleep, Severus had found, and would only stop her whimpering when he put his arms around her and whispered nothings to her, surrounding her with his body and voice. It had been a long night for them both.
"Severus?"
"Yes?"
"Do they ever end?" Hermione lifted her tired eyes to meet his and the grief in them nearly overwhelmed him. He knelt down beside her and took her small hands in his.
"No, but you will learn to deal with them. It's still new and fresh in your heart, the images of the battle and the deaths of your loved ones. The dreams will get easier to process, but it takes time." He squeezed her hands softly. "I will always be here to take care of you, and we will learn together how to soften the impact of them." She saw the truth in his eyes and nodded. He rose from his knees, kissing her forehead on the way up, and settled her around in her chair. "Drink your swill, I mean tea, and we'll take today to make some plans, yes?" Hermione rolled her eyes at the swill comment, and proceeded to dump three spoonfuls of sugar into the mug.
"What kind of plans?" she asked, after finishing off the tea and coming to sit beside him on the sofa.
"Well, it's the middle of August, meaning the school year is about to begin. I am awaiting word from Minerva about my status here, but she assures me that no matter the decision, I will always be welcome as Potions Master." He paused and glanced at her. "I have to admit to wanting to stay Headmaster, if only to do it right this time around." He smirked at her.
"I understand. It wasn't enough that you had the position, now you want to do more to prepare the children for the life ahead of them. Slytherin hasn't had a Headmaster since Phineas Black, and it would certainly go toward mutual understanding if we didn't revert immediately to stereotypical distinctions." Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment. "Have you thought of what you will do if you are kept on as Headmaster?"
"Well to begin with, I would bring back all the Muggle-born students and offer a repeat of any year to those who wanted to come back." Hermione's eyes lit up at that. "I see that appeals to you, my know-it-all." Severus smirked again at the young woman beside him. "Of course, Hermione, you can take your NEWTs now and save all the hassle of repeating." Hermione dropped her jaw and stared at him.
"But Severus, what would I do if I did that? I couldn't stay here, there's no way I'd get into any Wizarding university without my NEWTs, and there's simply no way for me to pass them without taking my Seventh Year to study for them."
"Nonsense. You could have passed them anytime in the past three years and still come out top of the class. And anyhow, you're too old to be here as a student anymore. Don't look at me like that, I know precisely how old you are with your Time-Turner over-use. At age 21 I would much rather you take the NEWTs now and apprentice yourself to one of the Masters here." Severus had to resist laughing at her as he took her chin in his fingers and closed her mouth.
The silence after this statement lasted about three minutes before Hermione took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Can I stay here?" she asked in a small voice. Now it was Severus' turn to be shocked. Of course you can, I need you like I need air, please don't leave me? "Here? Where here? At Hogwarts? In my quarters?" In my heart. He grinned and put his arms around her.
"Yes to all of the above. Besides the fact I would miss you if you were gone, I've quite gotten used to cleaning your hair out of the bathroom sink." Hermione snuggled into him and sighed. "Thank Merlin, I don't think I could handle going back to the dorms. Hey! I'm not the only one who sheds around here!" She playfully scowled at him, but then her face got serious and her eyes clouded over. Severus pulled her closer. "What is it, my dear?" The endearments were happening more often these days as Severus was learning to relax a bit.
Hermione buried her face in his chest and tears silently fell down her cheeks. "It sounds so stupid," she said into his shirt. Severus brushed her hair back and wiped the tears with his fingers. "Nothing will sound stupid, dear heart, and I promise to take whatever you have to say very seriously." They sat like that for a few moments before Hermione lifted her head to look at him and asked, "Can Crookshanks come?"
~oo00oo~
Harry and Ron had rolled their eyes at first, then sniggered; loud guffaws after that and the fact that Hermione's face had a Snape-like sneer on it just made them laugh all the harder. The whole pub rang out with their joy.
"Mione, of course you're going to take your NEWTs," gasped Harry between laughing and wiping his eyes.
Then Ron puffed out, "And really, twenty-one? No wonder you kept us in line all this time!"
Rosmerta smiled at the little group in the corner, glad to see youthful enthusiasm once again within the walls of her establishment.
"Oh, Ron, I nagged because I love you." Hermione sighed and looked into her Butterbeer. "And I was always a year older than you in the first place."
Ron and Harry nodded even as they hung onto one another for support after their laughing fit. "And I don't just want to take my NEWTs, I want to pass them with honours. Honestly, is that too much to ask?" Hermione frowned at the thought of only passing the tests.
Harry reached for her hands across the table and held them firmly but gently in his. "We know, Mione. It's just nice to have something to laugh at, and it's all good fun – we know you love us, and we know you're just you, and oh yes, we know you'll get the highest NEWT scores in a century. We love you and we're just so glad you're able to do something for yourself finally." Hermione shyly smiled, squeezing Harry's hands in hers.
Ron piped up, "Sure, and when you're Minister of Magic or Headmistress of Hogwarts or whatever great and famous thing you know you'll be, we'll be able to say, 'That's OUR Mione!'" He wrapped a comfy arm around her shoulders and hugged her not-so-gently, but purely in a Ron-like way. Like a big friendly dog.
The tears came fast and free now, from all three of them, and it turned into a group hug for a few minutes before Hermione raised her head and started fishing around in the pockets of her jumper for some tissue. Ever the gentlemen, Harry and Ron both held out wrinkled, not-quite-clean hankies to her and, after staring for a moment, she began to laugh and laugh.
"Oi, Hermione, it's hard to do our own laundry. You wouldn't want to stop by and give us a hand?"
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
Severus sat staring into the fire, unfinished class plans on his lap, lost in thought. Hermione was in Hogsmeade with the Dueling Dunderheads, which he didn't begrudge, but it left a faint distaste in his mouth to know he had to share her. It had been nice to have her mostly to himself for the past three weeks. Ah well, with Voldemort gone and a new life ahead of her, he knew Hermione needed the chance to laugh and be foolish with people her own age. He had the chance to have a new life, too, and if that meant softening toward Tweedle-Dim and Tweedle-Dimmer, why then he thought he might try it out for a bit.
He sat contemplating when he heard a whoosh and raised his eyes to see green flames flash brightly.
"Severus, can I see you in the Headmaster's office sometime this afternoon?" spoke Minerva McGonagall through the Floo.
"Certainly, Minerva, is this a good time?" said Severus from his leather armchair.
"Now's as good a time as any," said McGonagall. "The Governors have made a decision."
Severus Snape, still official Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, tried to gauge a possible answer from the tone of her voice, but she'd had too many years teaching to let a student know his grade from her demeanor. Minerva was one of a kind, definitely, and Severus loved her as much as a son could love a mother. It had killed him to lie to her the whole of last year, and he was grateful for both her forgiveness and friendship when the details of his spying had finally been revealed.
Minerva McGonagall, provisional Headmistress of said school, had been doing the majority of leadership duties since the Final Battle, and Severus was fairly convinced that the Board of School Governors had decided to keep her on for the coming school years. It was inevitable, really. Lucius Malfoy, publicly disgraced but free from imprisonment (and somewhat less wealthy after paying large Ministry fines and donating to victims' organizations as community service), was still on the Board, but not as influential as before. Severus knew his friend would have encouraged keeping him on as Headmaster, and he was grateful for it, but in the end there wasn't much doubt in his mind that Minerva McGonagall would keep her interim position.
Severus stood up and put his frock coat on, reminding himself that he still had a home here, according to Minerva, and that Potions was definitely his passion, even if teaching wasn't. He strode out the door of his quarters and up to the Headmaster's office, taking his time. He wished Hermione was here.
"Russian Blue," he intoned at the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the office, and he put his most placid face on for this meeting with Minerva.
Minerva called for him to enter when he knocked, and he stepped in, expecting her to be behind the massive desk, looking stern. Instead, she was on the small settee off to the side, pouring a cup of tea for him, and gesturing for him to sit down.
"Severus, how are you, my boy?" she inquired as she handed him the delicate china cup. "Are you regaining your strength?"
"I am well, Minerva, and yes, I am getting stronger due to the tender ministrations of both Poppy and Hermione." Here, he rolled his eyes. Minerva smirked at the sarcastic tone. They talked of trivial things, memorial services and rebuilding plans. "Minerva, you didn't call me up here to ask after my health and ply me with tea and biscuits. Please tell me the Board's decision, and then we can get on with more important things."
"Oh, Severus, better women than I couldn't get you to relax completely, although our Hermione comes awfully close, I've seen." She grinned outright then, but something in his eyes made her soften her features and speak seriously to him.
"You're right of course, it is time to tell you what they've decided and all the reasons behind such a choice." At this, Snape's eyes changed from somewhat challenging to resigned, and it hurt her heart to see him gird up for disappointment already. But the news was good, and she had trouble not twinkling. She scooted closer to him to give him her news and smiled at him, grabbing his hands in hers and squeezing them happily.
"Headmaster, I'm so glad to know that the future of the students of Hogwarts is safely in your very capable hands.
"Oh, Severus, the look on your face!"
~oo00oo~
Hermione waved goodbye at her best friends, watching them blow kisses at her like a couple of loons and capering off to Disapparate back to Grimmauld Place. She shook her head in slight disbelief that they were still the same boys after all that happened; she knew they weren't really, but it was wonderful to know they were safe and healthy and still able to laugh at her. She didn't mind, she liked laughing at herself, at least most of the time.
Hermione walked slowly around Hogsmeade, noting the slow but steady progress of rebuilding that was taking place. Rosmerta hadn't even closed, just conjured a large tent (Hermione shivered in disgust, tents no longer held any appeal to her) and kept serving her customers until the new pub was built. George Weasley had been here for a good week, overseeing the construction of a new store that would be open just in time for the incoming Hogwarts students to once again purchase their annual pranks for the new school year. George was still mourning his dead brother, but he and Lee Jordan had decided to continue with Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes in tribute to Fred's memory. George had even commissioned a portrait of Fred, hoping that at some point, it would come to "life" and they could joke and chat almost like before.
Flourish and Blotts was open finally, and it was here that Hermione's feet steered her, almost of their own accord. The bell above the door jingled merrily and the scent of parchment and ink wafted into her nose, even overpowering the smells of new paint and sawdust. She nodded a greeting to Mr. Blotts behind the counter, and wandered over to the new Potions section of the bookstore. Most of her old friends were there, the latest editions of Ars Alchemica and Potions Monthly on the racks; Modern Potions Ingredients and Transfiguration and Potions: A Study in Contrasts were sat on the bookshelves, along with many other books that Hermione had either read or wanted to read. She ran her fingers over the spines of the books, content in knowing that no matter what else happened, she could always lose herself in a good bit of light reading.
One title caught her eye, and she pulled it out to take a closer look. Potions and Arithmancy: The Art of Calculated Potions Design. Hermione had spoken to Professor Vector and secured an apprenticeship in Arithmancy, although she nearly surpassed her teacher already. Arithmancy would be only the first apprenticeship, if Hermione had her way.
She and Severus had had quite the discussion the other day about what he called 'foolish wand waving', and she'd argued that Arithmancy was hardly Charms or Transfiguration, and research into integrated magic was always worth looking at. Severus had scoffed at that, talking about Arithmancy being little more than Divination, that Charms and Transfiguration were 'soft' subjects, and that the only integration he could see would be Herbology, since a good Potions Master always knew his ingredients and frequently grew them himself.
Hermione had huffed at this, being fairly good at Charms and Transfiguration herself, with Professors Flitwick and McGonagall being two of her favourite teachers. Hermione was already making small but viable advances in the field, although she herself didn't know this. Severus had come upon several scribbled notes, and being rather good at Arithmancy himself, felt Hermione might be on the verge of doing something great.
The real reason Severus played devil's advocate was that he liked to get her all worked up, her eyes sparkling and her gestures emphatic – she was altogether too beautiful when in top argument form. Hermione obviously didn't realize this, because she would keep arguing until her hair crackled from the magic in the air and she was huffing and puffing, trying to get her point across. Severus compared her to a warrior queen in his own mind, and thankful that she was on his side.
Hermione decided to buy Potions and Arithmancy: The Art of Calculated Potions Design as a response to this latest argument, confident that once Severus took a good look, he would agree to some of her more practical ideas for improving basic medicinal potions. She waved goodbye to the cashier and began the slow, leisurely walk toward Hogwarts and home.
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
Severus, for his part, had recovered remarkably quickly after Minerva's pronouncement, and even graced her with a large, natural smile. Minerva hugged him tightly, amazed to actually see thoughts and emotions cross the former spy's face.
Severus had never been so shocked in his long, varied and incredibly crazy life. Minerva giggled. "Some master spy you are, I know exactly what you're thinking."
He turned toward her and sneered. "Now, there's the Severus we all know and love," she said playfully.
"Minerva, are you certain this is what the Board wants? You've been here longer than I have, and . . . and . . ." – he couldn't finish the sentence, and lapsed into shocked silence again.
"Of course I'm sure, dear. I'm too old, lived far too long and enjoy teaching far too much to be bothered with all the duties of the head of Hogwarts. And Severus, I know who you are, the real you, the one who devoted himself to bring about the end of Voldemort; you deserve this and the other teachers and I are completely behind you." She smiled gently at her adopted son. "Frankly, I think you need this to keep you from going mad with boredom after so many years of spying."
Severus smirked. How right she was! Looking over the class plans, he had gotten a sort of feeling in the pit of his stomach that, despite his love of Potions, he really didn't know if he could stomach trying to pound that knowledge into the heads of never-ending dunderheads. This was both a relief and a concern – he knew he could do the job right this time, but would they really trust him?
"I promise to do my very best, Minerva. I had desired the chance to do it right after last year," here he paused to take a deep breath in remembrance, then smirked again; "and I am rather glad not to have to face a whole new class of Longbottoms." McGonagall smacked him lightly on the arm and laughed with him.
"Of course, dear, we all knew this too," she said, the twinkle back in her eye.
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
Hermione basked in the peacefulness of the long walk. The birds were singing, and there was a slight breeze that played with the curls that had come loose from the braid on her head. She took a very deep breath, savouring the scents of flowers, clean air and woodsmoke that wafted over from Hagrid's shack.
She stood still for a moment and closed her eyes. It had been awhile since she had been to church, but in this moment she firmly believed that there was a God and He was taking care of her and her friends. She started twirling with her arms stretched out and her face to the sky, spinning until she got slightly dizzy. A different, slightly tangy scent came to her nose suddenly and she stopped to open her eyes.
Severus walked into view, hands in pockets, enjoying the day as much as she was. She smiled shyly at him, being caught dancing in the forest. His reaction was to stop and smile back, reaching out his own arms and twirling once. Hermione boggled, then giggled at him. He smiled at her and walked up next to her.
"So, Wood Nymph, I caught you dancing in your forest – what wish will you grant me now?" He took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips to kiss softly. Hermione giggled, and dipped into a small curtsey. "It is my honour to grant any wish it is in my power to give, Sir Knight." Both straightened up, Severus still holding Hermione's hand. The magic seemed to crackle between them, and Hermione watched his eyes darken. "A kiss, to set me free," was Severus' quiet answer to her questioning look.
Hermione paused and smiled at Severus, who lifted one eyebrow in challenge. The pause lengthened as the birds sang over their heads. Hermione tilted her head toward him and their lips met.
All this time they had been together, he had held her, she had held him, he had kissed her hand and her forehead; she had given him backrubs, held his hand and kissed his cheek. Never before had they taken the next logical step. For a moment, there was no war, no aftermath, no death or mourning. There was only Hermione and Severus and the love they finally realized was theirs.
His arms went around her, and her hands reached up to play in his hair. All the emotions they had kept at bay seemed to go straight into that kiss, and they held one another as if there were no tomorrow. Severus slowed the kiss, Hermione still raking her fingers against his scalp. He gave her a little smooch on the tip of her nose and leaned his forehead against hers.
They stood there, breathing each other in for a few minutes. Hermione pulled her head back and looked into Severus' eyes. Whatever she saw, there was no need for words. She nodded and smiled. Severus tilted toward her again and gave her a light, sweet kiss on the lips, and they walked hand in hand back to the school.
Fin