Warning: This is a dark comedy and has lots of talk of suicide. I am NOT, I repeat NOT making light of the topic. It is just a story and meant to be enjoyed as such. If suicide is a trigger for you, if it causes you any kind of discomfort for any reason, please do not read this story. It is meant to entertain and bring joy, not cause distress! There is more going on in Severus' case than meets the eye and we will find out as the story progresses. But please understand that I do take depression and suicidal thoughts quite seriously. There is also very brief mention of rape in a later chapter (that does not happen to either of the main characters).

Please note: *After I started this story, someone very close to me killed themselves. I had to take a little break and put it aside for a while before finishing it. I believe, however, that I understand certain aspects of this story better now and I hope it comes through in my writing.*

I'm gifting this story to Oracle Obscured because her fics have brought me hours of joy and inspiration. I hope you enjoy this, OO!

Huge thanks to Darnedchild for her beta/Harry Potter picking, Elizabeth K1 for betaing and MrsMCrieff for her Britt work. Such wonderful friends I have. All errors belong to me, please keep that in mind.

I own nothing. Enjoy ~Lil~

Part One

Minerva McGonagall

After the tea was poured and the biscuits doled out, Hermione sat back and appraised her mentor very closely. Something was bothering the witch, it was quite obvious. This was not a social visit.

"Minerva…" Hermione started, but didn't get to finish; the look on the woman's face stopped her cold.

Setting her teacup down on the coffee table, Minerva drew a deep breath before speaking. "Severus Snape tried to kill himself last week."

Somehow, Hermione held in her gasp. It wasn't exactly surprising, but it was unnerving. The wizard had been through such an ordeal, had done so much for them all. To feel so hopeless as to… "How? How did he…?"

The corner of Minerva's lips curled in what could have been the start of a smile. Odd, given the topic of conversation. "It was all strangely dramatic, for Severus that is. Of course, he can be quite melodramatic when he wants to be. I remember Albus once saying..."

"Minerva, please!" Hermione scolded, bringing the witch back to the grave conversation.

"Ah, yes." She looked properly abashed. "Well, his out of character behaviour did alert us so, I suppose I should be grateful."

"What did he do?"

"Kingsley and I have been keeping an eye on him. He was not at all pleased when he woke to find himself… alive."

"He didn't plan on surviving...?"

"No, evidently not. The Minister and I had our suspicions about Severus' mental state. Kingsley wanted him to see a therapist: a Squib who deals in this sort of thing and has worked with several war survivors." She paused. "Severus refused, of course. About three weeks ago, Kingsley Flooed me. It seemed that Severus had started moving all of his books and potions equipment to Gringotts, to his vault. He also visited a solicitor."

"The Minister was having Professor Snape followed?"

"Indeed. We were that concerned, Hermione. He had an Auror detail," Minerva explained.

She could just imagine how well that went over with her former professor. The man was so private. She cringed, remembering how his personal life had been portrayed in front of the whole Wizarding world during his trial. "Surely he was aware of it; the man was a spy for seventeen years."

"Oh, yes. He managed to lose his detail eight times in ten days. In the end, I believe his goal became more important than his concern for being watched. He stopped trying to elude them and went about his business." The Headmistress paused and took a prim sip of tea. "He must have thought his plans solid enough to surpass any Ministry trained Auror because they certainly didn't stop him from…" She paused again, swallowing and looking down at her lap.

"What, Minerva? What did he do?"

Her mentor's eyes came back up to meet hers. "He blew up his house, Hermione. He blew it up whilst inside it."

This time she did gasp.

"It explains why he moved his books. He simply couldn't destroy them." The witch suddenly looked ten years older. "I know you don't know him very well… At least I didn't think…" She was looking down at the rug, confusion written on her face.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

With a shake of her head, she said, "Well, Severus, he is methodical…"

That was unsurprising in the extreme. It was one thing she did know about the man.

"He is exacting and precise. And when planning his death, he took care of every last detail."

"Such as?"

"Casting a protective and stable magical barrier around the area so that the explosion would not damage other buildings and the fire wouldn't spread." Giving Hermione a knowing look, she added, "Even after he died."

That kind of magic was beyond her, far beyond her knowledge and ability. The amount of expertise that wizard held was astonishing. Hermione felt anger rage through her at the thought of losing that knowledge. He had, selfishly, tried to throw it away.

"He had also written up a will. And that brings me to the reason for my visit."

Anger was suddenly replaced by unease. What could Severus Snape's will possibly have to do with her?

"He left his gold to the orphan's fund. Understandable. Severus' guilt is palpable and something which he may never get over. He left some of his more unique potions equipment to Draco Malfoy. Again, unsurprising. Draco is his godson, after all."

Hermione wasn't aware of this fact, but it did make sense.

"He even left Harry something," Minerva said with a sad smile.

"Really?" She was more than a bit shocked.

"Yes. Severus had removed all of his memories of Lily and left them to Mr. Potter."

"Oh, my God!"

"He does nothing by halves, that man," Minerva said fondly, then looked away dabbing the corner of her eye. After a moment of composing herself, she turned back to Hermione. "His books, however, he left to you."

"He what?" she asked in a shocked whisper.

"It is the most impressive private collection I have ever seen, other than Albus', of course. Do you know why he would do that, Hermione?" the older witch asked, not disguising her confusion. Confusion that Hermione shared, in fact.

"I have no idea," she admitted.

"His will was very specific. You were to get all of his books, manuscripts and journals. Even his private writings."

"No explanation?" Hermione asked.

"None."

She was gobsmacked. Minerva must have noticed.

With a sigh, the witch said, "I see that I will get no answers to this mystery from you. I had hoped…" she trailed off, clearly disappointed.

But Hermione had no answers. It made absolutely no sense. The man hated her, truly hated her. He found her to be an obnoxious, hand-waving, know-it-all. An insufferable Gryffindor. A Muggle-born suck-up. He had begrudgingly given her the lowest marks he could possibly give on her near perfect papers. He had always complained about their length - Once again, Miss Granger, you seem to think that 'six inches' means something different for you than it does for the rest of the class. If I had wanted over a foot of parchment on the uses of valerian root, I would have asked for it. And if that wasn't bad enough, he also attacked her supposed lack of originality - Your mark would have been higher if the assignment had been to parrot back everything you've ever read about Forgetfulness Potion, Miss Granger. However, it was not! At some point in your life, you will be forced to use your own mind and not rely solely on books to find every answer!

Forcing herself back to the moment at hand, she asked the Headmistress how he survived what had obviously been a well-planned suicide attempt.

"Fortunately for Severus, for us all really, his Auror detail was a headstrong Gryffindor that day. The wizard rushed in, after casting a strong Flame-Freezing Charm, and managed to get his unconscious body to safety," she explained. "Severus escaped with a broken femur and a nasty concussion."

"No burns?"

"A few. Nothing that the Healers couldn't deal with. Not even any scars. No new ones, anyway," she added.

"Can I ask who the Auror was?"

Ronald Weasley

She had her arms around his neck before he knew what was going on.

"Hey, 'Mione!" he said, returning her embrace. "Not that I don't enjoy your hugs, luv, but what's the occasion?"

Pulling back, she took his face in her hands. "You're a hero, Ron!"

His cheeks pinked, all of his freckles actually turning an adorable shade of bright red in the process as a sideways smile formed on his lips. "Ah, you mean Snape, right? How'd you find out? That's supposed to be confidential."

She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed his heated cheek. "Minerva visited," she explained as she took off her jacket and sat down at the kitchen table.

He had been, as she had expected, at Grimmauld Place. He and Harry were living there: flat-sharing, as it were, trying to make it a regular bachelor's pad. They had asked her to move in with them, but after her and Ron's failed attempt at a relationship, Hermione didn't think that was a good idea.

"You saved his life, Ronald!"

He sat down next to her, looking bashful, and waved a dismissive hand. "I was doing my job."

"Doesn't mean I'm not proud." And she was. Not only of what he had done for their former (and most hated) professor, but of who Ron had become. He really could have become a fame-seeking prat, if he hadn't been more careful but instead, Ronald had matured. That was obvious in his attitude towards Professor Snape if nothing else. It was a real shame that there was absolutely no spark between the two of them. She did love him dearly… just not like that.

Again, he tried to blow her off, but Hermione would allow it. "Tell me what happened." She knew he couldn't resist telling a story.

"Well, we all knew he was up to something, that much was obvious. Kingsley himself had picked out four of us to watch him…"

"Was Harry one of them?"

"No. Kings said he was too close. Too emotionally attached."

She was secretly glad for the Minister's consideration. Harry still had a ton of unresolved feelings about Snape and his mum. "But not you?"

"Evidently not. Anyway, we'd been using this abandoned house across the street as a sort of base camp. There's loads of 'em in that neighbourhood. Merlin, 'Mione, if I'd grown up there… I don't know… I'd be depressed too. So, I'd been with him for about four hours that day and the only time I'd seen him was when he'd come out and put up some sort of ward around his house. I used Harry's cloak - I'd asked him for it when we started surveilling Snape - and I went to get a closer look at the ward when he went back inside." He leant closer. "It wasn't a ward, not really. I didn't recognise it. It wasn't anything like the ones you used in the Forest of Dean or like we were taught in training. It felt more like a… physical wall."

That was interesting. Hermione instantly wanted to learn more, but she suppressed her urge to ask questions.

"I just knew he was about to do something, Hermione. So I went across the street and sent my Patronus to the rest of the squad in the MLE for back-up and then went back to the house, well, as close as I could get with that wall thing. I didn't want him to detect me. Not two minutes later there was this awful explosion. The wall held it in though."

"How'd you get through?"

"That was the strangest part, 'Mione. I got in easily. The investigators said that his barrier must have let in air, and me, in order to feed the flames but kept anything from escaping. I found Snape unconscious and tried to leave, but couldn't, of course. I cast a Flame-Freezing Charm, as strong as I could and looked around for an exit. His Floo was still intact, somehow. The Floo powder was scattered all over the floor, so I put him down and gathered up what I could, picked him back up and tossed it in."

Good Lord! It was even more exciting than she'd expected. "Where'd you end up?"

His cheeks turned a deep red this time. "Ah, well, um..."

"Ronald, what happened next? Where'd you land?"

"Well, a brothel, I suppose." He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ah, we fell through their Floo - their main Floo, not into one of the, um, business rooms - and when I looked up we had six wands pointed at us."

Hermione resisted her urge to laugh. Clearly, poor Ron was uncomfortable with being in the presence of all those 'business women'.

Looking down, he continued his story, "Anyway, I started explaining what had happened and one of the, ah, girls - ladies - was really smart, not smart like you smart, but… ya know. Anyway, she started checking old Snape for injuries." His eyes met hers. "She was amazing, 'Mione! She set his leg and stabilised him while one of the other… ladies got me some more powder."

"What's her name, Ron?" Hermione asked, a knowing smile on her face.

"Wh-what?"

"Her name?"

"Callista."

"And…"

"She's three years older than us. She left school right after You-Know-Who came back. Her parents were killed and she had to take care of her little sister. A Squib." His words sort of poured out of him, not unlike verbal diarrhea. "She wanted to be a Healer, ya see, but things happened, obviously. She's sweet and kind and pretty and smart…"

"Ron!" Hermione stopped him, grabbing his hands. "You don't have to defend her, or yourself, if that's what you're trying to do." She squeezed his wrist. "You like her?"

"Yeah, I guess. I never was good at hiding things from you, 'Mione."

"How many times have you seen her?"

"Three," he answered, but rushed on, adding, "Never like that, though. Just to… talk."

Oh, Ron, she thought. You're still such a boy sometimes. "Are you going to see her again?"

"Yeah, suppose. Not sure how mum'll take it if…" he trailed off.

"Don't worry about that right now," she said. "What you did was amazing."

He smiled proudly then asked, "Is Snape okay? I talked to Kingsley a couple days ago…"

"Yes, he seems to be. At least according to Minerva. He's home now, I guess. Well, not his home, obviously."

"That's good. I mean, he's a git and all, but…"

Hermione squeezed his hand. "You did a wonderful thing, Ron." She knew why he cared, why he had matured so quickly about certain things. "How is George?"

He looked at her, his eyes sad and watery. "Mum's watching him close. Angelina's staying at the Burrow now, too."

The surviving twin hadn't tried to hurt himself, yet, but he had stopped living in a way. In the two-plus years since the end of the war, since Fred's death, George had barely existed. The shop was closed at the moment. Everyone spent their time watching him closely, hoping that he'd suddenly play a prank, make a joke. He hadn't yet.

"He's, um, seeing this Squib. A, ah, kind of talking Healer."

"A therapist?"

"Yeah, that's it. Yesterday was his first visit."

"That's good. That's what he needs."

"What about Snape? Shouldn't he talk to the therapist?"

"Maybe, Ron," she said with a nod. "I'm looking into a couple of things."

"'Course you are, 'Mione." He winked. "Always looking out for people, aren't you?"

Hermione Granger - Visit #1

The house was too bright, too 'homey' for his taste. Of course, he shouldn't complain (even though he did), he had blown his own home up, after all. He tried to get comfortable in the oversized, overstuffed armchair, but simply couldn't. It was nothing like his high backed wing chair that was now a pile of ash on a deserted street in Cokeworth. Transfiguration was an option, but that wasn't exactly one of his specialties. Frankly, he was pants at it.

Minerva had insisted he stay at one of the 'family cottages' in Hogsmeade that the school owned and rarely used. He wasn't a fool! He knew she wanted him close to keep an 'eye' on him. Fine! He'd play along… for now.

He cursed Kingsley bloody Shacklebolt and Minerva bloody McGonagall for thwarting his careful plans. Worst of all, no one would tell him the identity of the Auror who had saved his life. He could plot and plan against Winky for saving him at the Shack (even if he would never do anything about it - he couldn't actually harm the crazy little elf!) but if he didn't know who had pulled him from his burning home, he couldn't exact his revenge.

It didn't matter. His ultimate revenge was being planned on himself anyway. He'd have to wait, unfortunately. Getting Minerva and Kings off of his back was more important at the moment. It would take time, but time was the one thing that Severus Snape had in spades.

A soft knock on the door of the cottage brought him out of his brooding. He considered not answering, but to avoid all contact would only invite more pestering from the meddling duo. Rising with a groan, he glided to the foyer and jerked the door opened.

Who he found shocked him to his core.

"Miss Granger," he said, disdain dripping from his voice as he quickly schooled his reaction. "They've enlisted help, I see." He didn't move to invite her in. He had only allowed Kingsley in once and Minerva twice in the month since he had moved in. All three occasions were mistakes, moments of weakness. Loneliness was a bitch.

"Hello, Professor. May I come…"

"No. You may not. As you can see, I am alive, if not well. You can make your report to the Minister or Headmistress, whoever put you up to this, and know that you are not welcomed back." He started to shut the door, but she held up a hand, stopping him with a flick of her wrist and a bit of wandless magic. She was an impressive witch, always had been, even if he had never been able to admit it. He was so taken aback, that he didn't react quick enough to stop her before she took one step forward and spoke.

"I'm not here on orders, sir. They don't even know about my visit. Actually…" She reached into the pocket of her robes and pulled out a book. "I found this in a shop in Provence whilst I was investigating a…" She smiled, tucked her head and smoothed down her skirt. She was dressed entirely in wizarding fashions. Which surprised him, for some reason. "Sorry, I can't tell you what I was…"

"You are an Unspeakable, Miss Granger. You should be more careful."

"I can neither confirm nor deny…"

"Of course you are. What else would you do at the Ministry? Nothing there could possibly hold your interest long enough."

"At any rate, this book…" She held it out to him.

He looked down and read the title. Lesser Known Dark Curses and Counter Curses of the Late Eleventh and Early Twelfth Centuries. Extremely obscure and, unbelievably, he did not own it. "What about it?"

"I thought…"

His snort of laughter cut her off. Crossing his arms over his chest, he said, "Give me a moment to contain my surprise at the fact that the Great Hermione Granger had a… thought?"

Somehow, she held onto her composure. I've completely lost my touch, he grumbled in his head as he watched her face for signs of annoyance or anger and found none.

"I thought you might enjoy it, sir." She shook the book at him expectedly. It was the only indication he received that she had lost any patience whatsoever.

Severus realised that he had no choice. The only way he would get rid of the chit was to accept her little offering! Taking the book with an exaggerated sigh, he held it at his side without looking at it. "Happy?"

"Immeasurably," she replied, a small smile playing on her glossy lips. Retreating back across the threshold, she nodded. "Have a wonderful day, Professor." Then she turned and left.

"Insolent little twit!" he said as he shut his door.

Sitting back down in the far too comfortable chair, he opened the book and found an inscription.

Professor Snape,

There are many things that are 'lesser known' in this world. I hope you find this book as fascinating I did. And I also hope that you take a moment to consider that there are still many unknown variables to discover.

Hermione J. Granger

He harrumphed as he turned the page and started reading.

Hermione Granger - Visit #2

There was something to be said for depression. Sleep for one thing. He found that he was sleeping more than ever before. At least he wasn't having nightmares, for some unknown reason. He kept expecting them, but they never came. It was almost disturbing. Oh, he dreamed (some very interesting dreams of late), but he was never plagued with unsettling images of the Dark Lord or Albus or even Lily. Glutton for punishment that he was, he had searched his books upon returning to Spinner's End, but found nothing to explain the sudden absence of near lifelong night terrors, save one. And that was simply impossible. So he brushed it off as a side effect of the many potions he'd been fed, or perhaps of the venom itself. He could research it if he cared to, but he had more important things to do. Such as his death.

After a leisurely lie-in on a Saturday morning, Severus got up and made himself tea and toast. He couldn't be arsed to put too much effort into breakfast at ten in the morning. Neither could he be bothered to get dressed in his full 'bat of the dungeons' regalia, opting for dark jeans and a long-sleeved black tee-shirt instead. He wouldn't have bought the clothes himself, but Kingsley had sent him a whole new wardrobe after he'd destroyed his, half of it Muggle. Though he would never admit it out loud, it was quite comfortable. And he did enjoy the ease of it. While he had once needed the multitude of buttons, high collars and cuffs (that covered most of his hands) to armour himself against the world, alone in his little cottage that was quite unnecessary. Soft cotton was all the armament he needed.

His plans were somewhat on hold at the moment. Kingsley was not giving up and neither was Minerva. And if he was going to kill himself, he would do it his way, without their intervention. He had the potions ingredients, of course. He could brew a strong enough poison to get the job done. He had found the exact potion that would kill him instantly, painlessly. But every time he attempted it, they would show up, asking questions and poking around his cauldrons. Thus leading him to believe that the house was somehow warded to alert them.

Meddling busybodies!

Why wasn't he allowed this? Why couldn't he go out on his own terms?

A Potions master who wasn't even allowed to brew his own death! Absurd!

He could simply open his wrists! What could they do about that? he wondered. Nothing, of course! He'd bleed out before one of Kingsley's Aurors could rush to the rescue. However, Severus did not like… knives. Bellatrix had put him off of them. The witch was the single most sadistic cunt he'd ever had the displeasure of knowing. Years spent having to watch her derive almost sexual pleasure out of slicing up prisoners in his presence had left him leery of a blade, at least when close to human skin.

He just didn't think he could stand to watch his blood leaving his body, slowly and painfully.

And then there was his uncooperative wand! The bloody thing would not kill him! He had tried, back in Spinner's End, to cast an Avada on himself. It didn't work. He had heard, had read, that it was nigh impossible to kill oneself with one's own wand, but he had to try.

He was just desperate enough to find a bit of rope and…

NO! He would die with some measure of dignity, damnit!

It would all be a moot point if he had just died like he was supposed to!

Bloody house-elves!

Finishing his tea, he was walking into the front room when a knock sounded on the front door. Not again! Minerva had just been there the day before!

Only it wasn't Minerva.

He sneered but said nothing as he opened the door keeping a firm grasp on the aged wood (and his magic), this time as to not let her get the drop on him.

"'Morning, Professor!" she said brightly.

"You have another book for me, Miss Granger?" he asked, his tone as bored as he could possibly make it.

"Not this time, I'm afraid. Actually, I need your help." She worried her bottom lip as she had many times in his class when concentrating on a potion.

Why do I remember that? "I'm sure you have innumerable resources at your disposal, Miss Granger. What could you possibly need from me?"

She reached into the pocket of her cloak and pulled out a small box. "This was found in a… Well, I can't tell you, I suppose, but no one can figure it out."

Snape eyed the object and noticed, with some satisfaction, that the witch wore dragon hide gloves as she handled it. "What's inside?"

"We don't know. Our best experts can't open it."

"Yet you believe that I can?"

"I had hoped, yes. If anyone can..." She trailed off, a faint blush painting her cheeks.

He studied her for a moment before making a decision. Turning on his heels, he motioned for her to follow. Walking down the short hallway that led to the door to the walled back garden, Severus opened it, gesturing for Miss Granger to exit. "Place it there," he said with a wave of his hand.

She did. Carefully placing the box on the small wrought iron table.

"Stay here." He turned and reentered the house to find his own gloves. He didn't think he'd have need to touch the item, but as in all things Severus Snape like to be prepared. Once he had them, he rejoined her. She was exactly where he had left her. Pulling out his wand, he cast a strong ward around the entire table then began dismantling the curse on the box.

Severus had assumed the whole thing to be a ruse to bring her to his house. A means to 'check on him'. But as he worked he started to believe that she had genuinely needed his assistance. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before. For a very brief moment he regretted turning down Kingsley's offer of a job in the Department of Mysteries. It was interesting work, after all. But no. He had his death to plan.

By the time he had finally picked apart the curse and pried open the lid, he was sweating and shaking.

"Are you okay, sir?" Granger asked.

"I'm fine," he panted. "Now, Levitate the object. Carefully."

As she did, his eyes followed it. The cameo floated into the air, hovering just above the box, still well within his protective ward. It was about the size of the end of his thumb. Cream on black. A woman's profile. It was...

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

"Dark magic often is, Miss Granger. That is the danger in it," he replied without thought.

"I know, sir," she said, her eyes focused on the piece of jewelry. "It pulls and seduces. It's rarely unkind when it weaves itself around you. It feels like an old friend. Like it's always been there. But it's all false. It is a façade."

Severus found himself drawn to her voice like a siren's call. She had spoken softly, whispering as if the object itself could hear. He was still staring at her when she slowly moved her hand to her cloak pocket and produced another box, this one larger. Snape assumed it was magically protected. She had come prepared, it seemed. Levitating the cameo into the new box, she sealed it with a spell. When finished, she expelled a heavy breath then turned to him.

"I can't thank you enough, Professor," she said as she stowed the box back inside her cloak.

Snape ended the ward on the table. She gathered the original box, cast her own spell on it, some sort of protection, he assumed and put it into yet another pocket.

"Yes, well… I…" He stammered. What the devil? "My time is valuable, Miss Granger," he said as if he had some pressing engagement awaiting him.

"I'm sure Kingsley will compensate you for your assistance, sir."

"I require no compensation. I simply wish to be left alone," he said, wishing it were true. No. It is true. I need time to plan and… Just get her out of here!

She cocked her head to the side as if she were appraising him. Snape hated being appraised. "Did you read the book?"

"I did," he answered. Of course he'd read the damn book! It had been three weeks since she'd shown up with the gift - and it was a gift - the inscription made that clear. Severus Snape could never resist a book and evidently the little swot knew that. Know-it-all! He had finished it before bed that night.

"And did you enjoy it?"

"I didn't… not enjoy it."

She smiled, a small laugh tittering out of her as she stepped towards the door. "Okay. I'll take that."

"You'll have to," he muttered as he followed.

Once back at the front of the house, he caught her looking around, her curiosity getting the better of her. With a gentle hand on her back, he directed her to the foyer and opened the front door. His hand remained a bit longer than strictly necessary. It made him realise just long it had been since he'd had human contact. The Healers didn't count.

"Well, thanks again," she said when standing on the stoop.

"Just don't make it a habit."

"Of course." She turned, but stopped and faced him once again. "Oh, and Professor?"

Gods! What now!? "Yes?" he said in an exasperated tone.

"I rather like this look on you," she said with a wink, stunning him as she hopped off the stoop and sauntered down the lane.

"That little…" He was running out of names. Slamming the door, he stormed back into his house and flopped down onto the comfortable chair.

Severus Snape

The correspondence started after that and Severus decided that Granger may have just lost her mind at some point since the end of the war.

Professor Snape,

Thanks again for your help with the cameo. Kingsley has deposited funds into your account to compensate you and says he's putting you on retainer for the department.

What?! He didn't want a job! He didn't need a job. There was no reason to plan a future when he didn't expect to be around for it.

I can't tell you how pleased I was when he told me. We often have cases like the one I brought to you. Our so-called 'experts' don't have nearly the knowledge you do when it comes to the Dark Arts and I could always use a second opinion.

On a more personal note, the owl is mine so be nice! Her name is Prudence or Prudy. She likes sweets but not too much or she'll get sick. I'm being forced to take some time off at the end of next month (as much as I hate it) and will try to visit then.

Take care,

Hermione J. Granger

"Take care?" he said out loud. "Of what?" Then he looked at the owl, who was still perched on the arm of his comfy chair, looking at him expectantly and he got up to look for some biscuits. After feeding the thing and he composed a letter, but not to Miss Granger.

"Can you take this to the Minister for Magic for me?" he asked 'Prudence'. The bird hooted, nipped at his finger affectionately and held out her leg.

Once the bird was off on her delivery he sat back down. He was not about to let the Minister or Miss Granger force him into employment. An hour later he received a reply.

Severus,

Why do you have Hermione's bird, first of all? And no, you can not resign. You are officially employed by the Department of Mysteries as an outside consultant and that is final. The only promise I can make is that the position is mostly handled through correspondence so you may continue your existence as a hermit.

Minister for Magic,

Kingsley R. Shacklebolt

"Damn and blast!"

Oh, he was pissed off now. His unhappy little life was suddenly turned upside down and all because of Granger. He looked at the bird that was sitting on the back of one of his kitchen chairs. "You expect a biscuit, don't you?"

She hooted.

Standing, he fetched a biscuit from the tin and fed it to the owl. It wasn't her fault that her owner was an inconsiderate twat! Grabbing a parchment and quill, he sat down and started to write. When finished, he smiled. That ought to do it, he thought as he tied the letter to Prudy's leg.

Satisfied with his missive, Severus poured himself two fingers of firewhisky and settled into his chair with a sigh. He must have fallen to sleep (not really his fault - the chair was ridiculously comfortable!) because he was awoken by a pecking on his window.

"Merlin's gonads!" he grumbled as he made his way to the kitchen. "Of course." He opened it and the little brown owl flew in. "What does she have to say for herself, I wonder…"

Professor Snape,

He rolled his eyes. He had insulted her (with the most creative language he could think of) and she still insisted on the formal address.

I will take that as a compliment coming from you, thank you very much! And no, I do not plan on stopping my visits. I find you interesting and arresting. A mind like yours is wasted sitting in a cottage at the Arse End of Hogsmeade. If I can engage it, I will! Stop me by force, but your sharp tongue no longer frightens me, sir.

Yours,

Hermione J. Granger

He crumpled it up, throwing it across the room. Turning to the owl, he shouted, "Go home!" The frightened little thing immediately flew out the window and for a split second he felt bad for scaring her. "I'm officially loopy!" he said, shaking his head.

Hands on his hips, he stood, seething. After several minutes he made a decision. Grabbing his traveling cloak, he marched out the back door, pausing only to ward the house and Apparated to the gates of Hogwarts.

Hagrid let him in and after a brief conversation, Severus made his way to the castle. Thankfully, Minerva hadn't changed her password since she had last invited him for tea, an offer he promptly turned down.

"Tartan tea room," he said, not understanding for a moment what that was supposed to mean other than the fact that the Headmistress had a deep love for both tartan and tea… he had no idea.

"Severus," she greeted when he stormed into the open door of her office. "What a surprise."

"What did you tell Hermione Granger?!" he demanded.

"Oh, I'm fine, other than some aching joints, but that's to be expected at my age, I suppose. Thanks for asking and you?"

"I'm in no mood," he hissed as he paced. "That witch isn't afraid of me. Not in the least. So you must have…" The moment it dawned on him he felt like the world's biggest fool. How had he not seen it? The book. The Dark Arts book. She knows. "How could you, Minerva?" Granger knew about his will and the witch in front of him had told her. Gods... He felt humiliated.

She didn't even have the decency to appear ashamed. "I needed to know why, Severus."

"And did you not think to ask me?" he asked, his eyes fixed on the floor.

"You were still in a state. I…"

Looking up, he said, "So you spilled my secrets to the girl?"

"She would have known if you'd been successful."

"But I wasn't!" he growled, leaning across the desk. Only then did he glance up, letting his eyes find the portrait of the man he least wanted to see. Their eyes met for a split second before Severus turned, forcing himself to look away.

He stood in the middle of the office that had once been so familiar, had been… his for one long, horrible year, and attempted to shield himself. But his defenses were gone.

This was the reason why he couldn't take it anymore. This was why he just wanted it to be over. Occlumency had always been his best defense, his only defense and it had left him.

When he had awoken in St. Mungo's his shields were gone. He lay there for nearly three months, reliving the nightmare that was his life, unable to shut it out.

Come on, come on, he chanted, calling on every ounce of control to erect some kind of barrier to protect his fragile psyche, but it was no use. He had some potions that would help. They could block out some emotional pain and offer short-term solutions, but nothing could replace nearly thirty years of discipline and what he had always thought was an innate ability.

Please, please, please, he begged his mind.

Minerva's hand on his shoulder pulled him out of his attempts at inner focus. "She cares, Severus. You cannot fault her for that," she said softly.

"I fault you all for your care," he replied, his body relaxing slightly under Minerva's gentle touch. He hated himself for needing it so damn much. "I am beyond…" he didn't finish his sentence.

"Beyond what, Severus?"

"Just… beyond," he said after several seconds. Then, as much as it pained him to do so, he stepped away from the older witch and her warm hand, walking out of the familiar office to return to his cottage and his comfy chair. He had potions there, they would help.

Besides, he still had his death to plan.

Hermione Granger - Visit #3

The letters didn't stop, but they did sometimes come with unexpected treats: a tin of homemade cookies, her favourite tea she wanted him to try, another book. He never replied, never encouraged her. Twice she sent him letters with official Department of Mysteries letterhead, asking for advice on a matter. These he answered, lest he have Kingsley on his back.

It was all very distracting. The cookies were delicious, the tea quite charming and the book engaging. And as much as he hated to admit it, he had enjoyed working out the problems she had sent him. But she was keeping his focus from his ultimate goal.

The witch was getting to him. One problem at a time, Snape! he'd tell himself. If he could solve the problem with Hermione Granger, then he could redirect his attention back to his death.

One day, three weeks after his conversation with Minerva, Severus decided that the ever questioning Granger just wanted answers. So he decided that the next time she came by, he'd give them to her. He'd also give her the scare of her prim little life.

She had been cropping up in his dreams since her first visit. Oh, he had dreamed of the pretty witch in the past (he was a man, for Merlin's sake). Her appearance at his trial had sparked the first, but they had taken a decidedly lascivious turn since she'd shown up at the cottage. He could use that!

In his dreams, she writhed and moaned underneath him as he feasted on her, pleasured her with his mouth and hands. She called out his name as he drove into to her from behind. He'd had her up against his impressive book collection, on the desk in his study and, of course, in his bed. In one of his favourite scenarios, she knelt at his feet, sucking him off as he sat in his extremely comfortable chair.

So his plotting mind centered on Miss Granger, for the time being. He'd get back to his eventual demise once the annoying pest was dealt with.

He didn't have to wait long. She turned up less than a week after he had settled on an idea.

"Ah, Miss Granger, what a surprise," he said, sounding as unsurprised as possible.

She seemed taken aback… finally. "Hello. I promised I visit whilst on holiday. So, here I am."

"Here you are," he echoed. "Do come in." Taking a step back, he opened the door widely.

Though she looked slightly suspicious, she stepped into his house and smiled.

"Tea?" he asked as he put his hands on her shoulders to help her with her light Spring cloak. Though it was the beginning of summer, the weather had yet to turn completely warm.

Tilting her head to the side, she said, "Sure."

He hung her cloak, directed her to the lounge then made his way to the kitchen. Her mind must be running wild at this point. He imagined her seated on his divan, trying to figure out his game. Would he poison her? Kidnap her and lock her in the cellar? He could barely contain his laughter. When did I last laugh? he wondered. It didn't matter. Having her wrong-footed was the goal for the beginning of his little trap, then he'd slip in with the information he knew she wanted and follow-up with the fear-factor. I am a testament to my House!

Finishing the tea, he carried it in, setting it on the coffee table between them. "Milk or sugar?"

"Both, please."

He prepared it for her, handing her a cup before taking his own and sitting back, getting comfortable for their little chat.

"So, Professor, how've you been?"

"Well, thank you. And yourself?" By all the gods, he hated small talk.

"I'm fine. I hate taking time off from work, but Rogers, my boss, insisted." She sipped her tea. "Three weeks," she added with a roll of her eyes. "What am I supposed to do with myself for three weeks?"

I assume you plan on driving me the rest of the way to insanity, he thought as he sat down his cup. "There is actually something I wished to speak to you about, Miss Granger."

"It's lucky that I stopped by, then."

"Indeed." He couldn't keep the sneer off his face. "I am aware of the fact that the Headmistress visited you just after my… failed attempt to end my life." He hadn't spoken to anyone about that day. Oh, he'd had many conversations with himself about his utter failure, but never out loud… to another person. It surprised him that he found the topic so painful.

"She did."

"And I am also aware that she disclosed some information to you. Delicate information about my personal affairs."

"Since they involved me, sir, I'm not sure if they are completely personal. Exclusively, that is."

He ignored her perfectly reasonable argument. "It is, of course, the reason for your continued presence in my home, in my life, however." She opened her mouth to no doubt argue, but he wouldn't allow it. "I am willing to offer an explanation, Miss Granger, if for no other reason halt your needless visits."

She looked intrigued. Placing her cup on the table, she scooted to the edge of the settee. "You're going to tell me why you wrote me into your will? Why you willed me your books?"

"Yes."

"Hmm… I have to say, Professor, I was not expecting that."

"I didn't think you would be. No doubt you thought of employing some sort of trickery, feeble though it might be, to get to the truth. Not necessary, Miss Granger. It's really quite simple."

"Is it now?"

He nodded. "I could think of no one who would appreciate them quite as much as you."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Hogwarts has Albus'..." The name caused a slight pain to arch through his chest, but he ignored it. "... collection. He and I had many of the same books. Except for my Dark Arts collection, which they would not place in the library. Those books would have been put in storage, deep in the bowels of the castle. You, on the other hand, would have made use of them, given your chosen work." Satisfied with his explanation, he picked up his tea and took a sip.

"Thank you for that, sir."

There was something in her reply that unsettled him. It sounded… disbelieving, but he decided he was being paranoid. There was no way he had not convinced the little chit of his reasoning. It was sound, after all. And the truth. Or at least some version of it.

He rose. Time to implement the final stage of his plan.

"Now, if you don't mind, Miss Granger, my day is not spent lolling about, idly doing nothing. I do have things to accomplish…"

She stood and he walked her to the foyer.

As he helped her with her cloak, like a true gentleman, he leant down and whispered, "Oh, and one more thing." He then took her by the shoulders, turned her and pushed her up against the door. "Do not return."

The witch was, of course, shocked by his sudden change in demeanor, she gasped as he pressed his body against hers.

"I am many things, Miss Granger, but I am still a man. Your continued presence causes me much distress." Grinding his growing erection against her belly, he said, "I may be nearing the end of my days, but as you can tell I'm still a fully functioning human being. Your cloying kindness isn't enough to obscure the fact that you have a lovely set of tits and an arse to match. If you return again, I shall take it to mean that you have more to offer me than a book or an interesting puzzle." He cupped the back of her head and tugged her hair, pulling her eyes up to meet his. "Am. I. Clear?"

She met his gaze with a fire he had not witnessed in many, many years. For a moment he was almost sorry for having to scare her off. But it was no use, she was distracting him from his goal. She had to go.

"Crystal, sir," she said in a voice completely devoid of fear.

Seconds ticked by. He had the most unnatural urge to close the distance, press his lips to hers and kiss that look of defiance right off her pretty little face. Finally, however, he stepped back, pulled her with him, and in one smooth move opened the door.

"Have a good day, Miss Granger."

Never breaking eye contact, she replied, "You too, sir," as she left.

Severus sighed. Thankfully, it was over. It was unsettling and though necessary, not something he particularly enjoyed. Now that it was done, however, he could get on with planning his end.

Turning, he walked into the lounge. He collected the tea things, placing them back on the tray and took them into the kitchen. I should wash these up first, he thought. Once that was finished it was nearly time for the evening meal. He didn't like planning on an empty stomach or without a full night's sleep.

In the end, he decided to start fresh the next day. What was one more day of the miserable life he'd been living?

Okay, there's part one finished. Please let me know what you think. This is three chapters long and finished. I am, however, polishing up the last two. I am also 'considering' writing a naughty afterwards. Thank you so much for reading. ~Lil~