Disclaimer: not mine. JK Rowling's.

Thanks again to One Soul, my lovely beta, who help me in bettering my writing and my story.

Disagreement

"You're leaving then." He was leaning against the door frame.

"How perceptive of you." She answered contemptuously without bothering to look up.

"Don't." he managed after some minutes.

"Give me a reason."

He looked at her, painfully aware she was determined to leave him because of his behaviour towards her. He might have been worse, mind, but she deserved far more than he had given her.

"Should I remain for your kind encouragements towards my work? For your gallant demeanour? For your understanding? Your compliments maybe?"

She was not being herself but she just couldn't bear it anymore. She had hoped and searched for some consolation in their relationship but it was almost non-existent. Nothing was there except for cold indifference and snarkiness.

"What? Cat got your tongue? Lost your dry wit?" she continued mercilessly as she stormed around the room. "You're usually far more talkative when it comes to debasing my house or my work. Have you overused all your flashes of wit? No sarcastic remark? I must admit I'm surprised."

"I've never forced you into this…arrangement."

"Arrangement?" she laughed bitterly. "Is that all? An arrangement?"

She was angrily shoving all traces of her presence into a huge trunk.

"Maybe you're right after all," she spat at him. "When there's no care, no love, no understanding, not even encouragement, it might as well be an arrangement.

"How foolish of me to have expected some kindness when I couldn't even get recognition for my work from a scholar such as you. Did you ever consider lending me a helpful hand instead of throwing daggers at me? Have you ever imagined that a compliment without a harsh sarcasm just after would have been welcomed?

"Maybe I should stay for all those insignificant things you've done to show me some degree of affection? Or for the consideration and respect you've shown me? Perhaps for the time you deigned devote to us?" Turning her attention to the living room for any remaining personal item, she spotted a little box.

"What is it?" she asked suspiciously, turning abruptly towards him.

"A flitting thought," he answered, his dark eyes glittering with something she couldn't name.

She marched towards it, her curiosity exceeding her anger. A flitting thought for her? That was so rare she could count them on the finger of one hand. Opening the lid slightly, she found a little kitten, shivering with fear. It has been in that box for a new house and only found some terrible anger and noise. She took it in her arms, feeling the cute little thing relax slightly with the affection shown. When she turned again, the argument dying on her lips, she found herself alone.

"What are we going to do, kitty?" she murmured. She heard it purr, for pleasure or fear she couldn't tell. Crookshanks was eyeing her suspiciously and she bent down to him so that she could introduce the two felines to one another. She doubted the cohabitation will go smoothly but after a time, they might get used to each other. She suddenly smiled a sad and bitter smile. The meaning of the "flitting thought" had just struck her for what it really was. This was a truce offering from another cohabitation that wasn't going smoothly either.

The kitten was being roughly nuzzled and smelled by Crookshanks, awaiting the half-Kneazle authorisation. The ginger cat looked at his familiar and perceived her confused feelings. He went to her, pawing at her face in a show of affection and care. She stroked his fur a moment, petting him absently. He decided the kitten would remain because his familiar might need another furry companion. The air in the room was different and the dark man wasn't here. He knew more about the man's feeling that his familiar and they permeated the room without her realisation of it. The kitten smelled strongly too of his familiar's companion. Where was he?

Hermione got up and took the kitten in her arms. Opening the door, she waited until Crookshanks trotted to her and followed her outside. She went looking for him around the whole house but he was nowhere to be seen. For once, he had had a fit of affection for her and she had rejected him. He wasn't half as bad as she had accused him to be but still, she was craving for some signs of affection. She needed to feel his acceptance of her, his care for her. She desperately needed for him to open up to her, to trust her. She knew he loved her, in his own strange way. But she was at a loss with him. She had no idea of how she should behave around him because he never said anything. Not finding him, she went back home, reaching the conclusion there was a moment he would come back too.

He finally did come home. She wasn't sure of where he had gone, but in the time he was away she had seen the afternoon roll away, and dusk descend, bringing the frosty night settling comfortably over the land. He didn't notice her at first, because she was quietly sitting in an armchair not facing him. He poured himself a glass of firewhiskey and checked the fire. He smiled. Apparently, she had been thoughtful enough to light a fire so that it wouldn't be cold. How strange. After the morning row, he hadn't expected anything more from her. He had pushed her too far. Merlin knew he wanted her happy but she would never be if she stayed with him. And why on earth had she come to him? She had a lot of suitors. It wasn't like she had no choice. Why had she come to him? He had never courted her, never asked anything of her. A Gryffindor… He still had a reputation to maintain. He may be cleared of any mark and accusations, there still were some constants. A Slytherin never gets close to a Gryffindor lest get infatuated with one. And yet, here they were. Had been, he rectified bitterly. Somehow, he felt colder than he had ever been. Maybe she had been right. Maybe he should have given her more warmth and tenderness.

Sighing, he turned towards the fire and slumped into a comfortable seat, still oblivious of her presence, shadowed as she was in her dark corner. Yet, he noticed the little kitten, sleeping near the hearth.

"She hasn't taken you, then, kitten?"

The little feline opened an eye, wary of any outburst and checking he was safe.

"I suppose we'll have to do together now that she's gone. You don't care, eh?" He sipped his whiskey, feeling its hotness burn his throat. The sting of it was still stronger than he was feeling inside.

"Her smell still permeates the room, kitten. You didn't know that, mm?" He looked at the cat as it stretched its limbs after its slumber. "Come here, cat. You're the only thing I've got left now that she's gone."

Putting it in his lap, he began stoking its fur, taking great care of the sensitive spot behind its small ears. The kitten began purring under the soft and fond ministrations.

"Cats are easier to take care of than humans, aren't they?"

He turned his head towards the voice, a wan smile playing discreetly on his lips.

"Why have you come back?" he asked quietly, evenly.

"Why did you buy me a kitten?"

"To fill the loneliness of your days."

"That wasn't my question. I don't want to know the cat's utility."

There was a slight chance she would stay if he answered her. Strangely, the thought comforted him.

"You'll never be happy with me, Hermione."

"I would if you showed me as much kindness as you do to this cat."

"Maybe you would. But it's most certain you'll be happy elsewhere. I don't like odds. And I never bet when I'm not sure of the outcome."

"I know."

An awkward silence settled over them for a time. Both were lost in thought and while Severus absent-mindedly pet the kitten, Hermione sat, transfixed by the dance of the flames in the hearth. It reminded her of her time in the Gryffindor tower. How many times had she sat in front of the fire with her friends beside her? She remembered the warmth, the love from that time. A blessed time it had been despite the anxiety, the fear and the anger. And now…

"Why should I stay?" she asked him suddenly.

He looked up at her, seemingly lost. He stayed there, mute, staring at her. He blinked. Slowly. His hand stopped his movement. The cat slowed his purring and opened a sleepy eye, trying to conceive why the soft caresses might have ceased.

"I don't want you to." She saw his eyes widened slightly despite the tight control he managed to maintain on his features. Had he not, she was sure she would have seen him shocked. She smiled wanly. She had her answer. Or at least, the beginning of one.

She got up, stretched and yawned softly. When she disappeared behind her bedroom door, he hadn't yet batted an eyelash.