AN: This one-shot is for you Cloelius Princess. I hope you like it.
I don't own Harry Potter and don't make any profit.
Severus Snape was standing a bit further away from the crowd and watched the scene unfold in front of him. It was a bitingly cold day, the dark clouds hurried across the winter sky. They had just lowered the two coffins into the frozen soil and the muggle reverend said a couple of more words. Severus was standing too far away to hear what he said, but it didn't matter to him, he hadn't come for the decedents anyway, as he didn't know them. He came for her. She had been his colleague for four years now. Hermione Granger was standing at the grave of her parents, who had died in a car crash a couple of days ago. She stood at the grave surrounded by her friends, many redheads, a young man with messy dark hair and green-eyes, a round-faced man with dark hair and a young woman with wavy blonde hair and a dreamy look on her face. They were her friends. That was where she belonged. He wasn't sure why he had come, but somehow it felt right to be there.
He hadn't seen her cry the last couple of days. She seemed to have an aura of stubborn pride around her, not allowing her to cry. Maybe she did cry in the privacy of her own quarters, but at least in public she didn't. Some sort of tender friendship had evolved between the two of them over the last two years. Their quarters at Hogwarts were close to each other, so they ran into each other quite frequently. They saw each other in the library and sat next to each other at meal times. One evening she invited him for a drink back at her quarters and since he found her to be more pleasant company than all other women he knew, he accepted. That's when they became friends, not in an obvious kind of way, since they still weren't on a first-name-basis, but they seemed comfortable in each other's company. They would discuss books and recent political developments, both magical and muggle. Sometimes they would tease one another with the little flaws, they discovered in each other over the years.
The ceremony had come to an end he realised, since the Reverend and the undertaker had left the grave, to give the mourners some privacy. One after the other threw some soil or a rose into the grave, came over to Miss Granger hugged her and left the grave. After a couple of minutes, she was standing there all by herself, her back turned to him, staring into the open grave.
Severus slowly approached her, snow crunching under his feet and rested his hand on the small of her back. They never had any sort of physical contact, except for a couple of handshakes, but somehow his hand seemed to have a will of its own today. Hermione looked at him and a sad smile appeared on her face. "Mister Snape, you came," she whispered. Suddenly her shoulders slumped and she buried her face in her hands and he could hear her sob.
"Hermione," he said softly and gently pulled her towards him gathering her in his arms. She clung to him like she was about to drown, weeping bitterly into his chest. He held her close, rocking her back and forth, whispering soothingly into her ear.
After she had calmed down, she gently untangled herself from his embrace.
"Will you come to the funeral reception? Molly insisted to have it at the Burrow, which I'm actually grateful for," Hermione said quietly.
He shook his head.
"I can't. You know me. I'm not a people person. Your friends aren't too fond of me. I'm sorry, Hermione, I can't," he said quietly.
For a split second there was disappointment flitting across her face, which surprised him. He didn't think they were close enough, that she would want him to be there. Obviously he was wrong.
"But I will apparate you there, if that's okay with you? I don't want you to get splinched, since you are so agitated."
She nodded.
"Hang on," he whispered, when she was about to leave. He grabbed a handful of soil out of the provided bucket and let it fall onto the two coffins and then he discretely, it still was a muggle cemetery after all, conjured two white roses and let them fall down into the grave as well.
"Thank you Severus," Hermione whispered.
"Come on," he put an arm around her shoulder and she held onto his waist. While walking out of the cemetery like this, it started to snow softly.
A couple of hours later, while Severus was reading in his study he heard the door to her quarters open and close again. He gathered all the things he had prepared for his friend and walked over to her quarters, quietly knocking on her door. She opened her door and gave him a small smile. Before he could ask, if he could come in, she stepped aside to let him in and closed the door behind him.
"How are you doing Hermione?" he softly asked.
"I don't know," she mumbled.
"Look I brought you some hot chocolate, with marshmallows and we could spike it with some firewhisky."
"I'd like that, I just quickly change into something more comfortable," she replied.
While she was gone he poured a little bit of firewhisky in both mugs and put the plate with the sandwiches, he prepared for her on the coffee table. She came back wearing a pair of old faded jeans and her favourite dark grey jumper. She once confessed it was her favourite jumper, although it already looked a bit scruffy.
"That's better," she said slumping down on the settee next to him, "Thank you for coming to the funeral. It really meant a lot to me," she smiled at him.
"You are welcome," he replied offering her a mug of the steaming beverage. They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping their hot chocolates.
"You know what's weird? They always have been my safe haven. Life in their muggle world seemed so much easier. They were always there to take care of me and now they are gone. I'm alone now," she whispered the last sentence.
He reached over, his damned hand having a life of his own again, and cupped her cheek, "You are not alone, Hermione."
Was it his imagination or did she snuggle her cheek into his hand? Surprised by this, he let go of her cheek.
Confused by what just had happened he stammered, "Have … Have you eaten something today?"
She shook her head.
"I knew it. Hermione you have got to eat something. I watched you over the last couple of days, you have hardly eaten anything. I made you some sandwiches, I persuaded the house-elves to give me some of the roast chicken, you love so much. It was left over from lunch today. So here you go, some roast chicken sandwiches, made by a former death eater. Not many witches can say that they have been indulged by a death eater, well ... former death eater. So eat!" Severus ordered and handed her the plate.
She slowly started eating, "It tastes good." She smiled.
Severus' mind wandered back to what just happened. Did she really snuggle her cheek into his palm? To be honest he had been harbouring this little crush on her for the last couple of weeks now. But he didn't act on it, because there was no way she would feel the same for him, with the age difference, his past and all that. But maybe he was wrong.
After eating one sandwich she leaned back on the settee drinking some more hot chocolate.
Once she had finished, she sat the mug back on the table and turned to him and said, "Thanks again!"
Hermione leaned over and softly placed a kiss on his lips, but pulled away quickly, when she felt him stiffening under the touch of her lips.
"Sorry, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."
"No you didn't. I just don't want you to do it, because you are feeling lost and vulnerable today. I couldn't bear the thought of then having to let you go again, once you've recovered from your loss," he whispered, surprised by his own confession.
"I wouldn't want to let leave you again. I've been thinking of doing this for quite some time now. And I'm glad I did it now. Because if you would have rejected me, I would have said it was the whole situation I'm in at the moment."
He chuckled and moved closer to her. His lips found hers and when he is tongue swiped across her upper lip and begged for entrance, she opened her mouth and he could taste hot chocolate mingled with firewhisky and a taste of Hermione, making him weak. After a couple of moments he broke apart and smiled at her.
"Hermione if you want, I'd like to take care of you," he whispered.
"I'd very much like that," she replied and snuggled her face in the crook of his neck.