The beautiful and the damned
Snape knew he could watch her without her realising. Years of practice as a spy had at least taught him that.
This way she wouldn't know how his gaze fell softly across her porcelain face, her golden brown hair pulled in a neat chignon, her dusty pink lips. He could quietly follow the sweep of her throat and her glimmering green dress. She was undeniably beautiful but she was also astonishing.
His mind wandered back to a much darker place. After Nagini's bite, he had slowly slid into a cold, dark, painful world as the poison had spread its way through his body. He would have happily welcomed death at that moment but he knew that he would have to wait a torturously long time.
He had tried to think of Lily. He had tried to think of a time when he had been happy to distract himself from the sharp chill that was slowly freezing his body.
Time had been immeasurable when he felt a soft hand on the side of his face. He remembered the smell of vanilla. He had thought of Lily. Had Lily smelt of vanilla? It hadn't seemed quite right.
The next thing he was aware of was a hard lump being forced into his mouth. It had been a bezoar. He was still astonished by the sheer simplicity of it all.
The darkness had slowly cleared and he met her honey brown eyes staring down at her with a concerned expression.
He had choked, "Miss Granger."
Her honey brown eyes had widened in astonishment.
"It worked! Well I never"
He sat up with difficulty. She placed a small hand on his back and helped him.
"You mean you didn't know whether it was going to?"
Hermione pursed her lips and flicked her eyes tellingly to the side.
"'Fraid not. I've never read anything which definitely said what the cure to the bite of the Albanian Blackstar. That is what Nagini was, right? Anyway. I guessed. Sorry."
"You will only need to apologise in one circumstance Miss Granger. Is Potter safe?"
Hermione gasped.
"Sorry. Yes. We've won. Harry destroyed Voldemort. Well I say we won. It doesn't really feel like winning. There have been a number of fatalities. But I thought maybe just maybe if I came back here I might be able to help you."
She paused and smiled softly, "I'm glad I did. I think this will help everyone a little bit. I hope it will."
Snape unsteadily tried to get to his feet.
"Miss Granger. Do not think for an instant that it is your responsibility to try and fix everything. I have known Voldemort long enough to be able to guess that this battle will have caused untold physical and emotional damage.
"I know but I've got to try."
"Miss Granger. Just live your life the best you can. That's all anyone can ask of you."
The time after the battle had been unsettling for Severus Snape. His whole existence had come to be defined by his status as a spy. Once he had sat in front of the Wizengamot and explained everything that he had done for the Order of Phoenix and Dumbledore, he had been set free. Suddenly, his life was entirely his own again.
He had returned to teaching Potions, not really because he enjoyed it, but because he needed something and he was good at it. At least if he taught a few of the dunderheads that came through his classes something about the fine art of potions, he would be doing something worthwhile with the years he had left.
His real joy had come from his on-going friendship with Hermione. She was still an insufferable know-it-all and he personally thought that she had the most questionable taste in wizards, with her dating that Weasley boy, but he admired her mind and her thirst for knowledge and justice.
He wasn't quite sure how they had started the tradition where she would floo to his quarters every other week for tea and biscuits. He would pretend to be grumpy and ask her difficult and probing questions on a range of topics. They discussed the latest advances in potion making, wizard-muggle relations, justice, philosophy and poetry. No topic was out of bounds.
He was pleased when she started fighting back against his more caustic remarks. His concern was always her vulnerability, her want of acceptance from her peers. He wanted her to be able to stand alone, to be the one who could change everyone else's perception.
She had done brilliantly. He had watched with great pride as she fought for house elf rights and against the pureblood laws. She had received negative press and criticism from various parts of the wizarding society for wasting their time and upsetting traditions but she had fought back valiantly against all of it.
Snape watched Hermione as she floated through the crowds, shaking hands and laughing with everyone she met. She seemed to cast a spell across everyone she met. He smiled as he thought about how one day he was sure that she would be Minister for Magic. That would be reassuring, with someone as obstinately convinced of right and wrong as Hermione, the magical world would be safe from trouble for at least a little while.
He was snapped back from his thoughts as the smell of vanilla enshrouded him. He cracked a small smile as he met the gentle brown eyes. He nodded, "Miss Granger."
Hermione stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek lightly, "Professor Snape."
She held her hand out to him, "Dance with me?"
"I don't dance."
"I've heard things to the contrary."
"Won't your boyfriend mind?"
"What? Ron? Yes. But he won't say anything. He's still scared of you. It keeps him in line."
Snape nodded as he gently pulled Hermione onto the dance floor. She fit neatly into his hold and they swayed gently to the enchanted string quartet which was playing by itself in the corner.
He pulled her closer. He could never forgive himself for all the mistakes he had made but at least he had done one thing right and he was going to try his damnedest to make sure that she stayed that way.
He whispered in her hair, "Thank you."
"What for?"
"For being you."
She looked up at him with teary eyes and stuck out her tongue, "No problem."