Let's Get Physical: Five years after the war, and Severus Snape still doesn't feel like his own master. Can Hermione Granger help him see his Freedom? Rated M SS/HG

Disclaimer: This small fanfic is based off of the Harry Potter series, written by JKRowling. I make no money; I just enjoy writing from time to time. Somewhat compliant with the DH, but I had to save my favorite professor.

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WARNING: Rated M for a reason. This is a HG/SS story, if you don't like this pairing, you don't have to read. This takes place several years after the war, meaning, Hermione is well over the age requirement.

QUICK AN: In this chapter, I use a movie quote from 'Harry Potter and the Sorcery's Stone'. Credit goes JKR, Warner Brothers (staff of film crew/screen writers), and of course to Alan Rickman.

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Chapter 3

The small home office was more like a spacious broom closet, but Hermione never complained. It was Ron's flat, and although she had been living there for almost a year, he still had a possessive death grip on his 'man-cave'. Ron painted the second bedroom a bold orange, and immediately began decorating with Chudley Cannon posters. His first broom and his framed chocolate frog, hug over the television set, a gift from Harry. The harsh tiger orange was hard on the eyes, and often gave Hermione headaches when she attempted to spend time with Ron watching the telly. He always kept the room in disarray, leaving his dirty socks here and there, with empty cans turned over by the couch; she even found pizza boxes tucked under the couch from time to time.

When Hermione moved in, the under the impression she would have a home office, Ron had surprised her by putting a desk in the hall closet. He had the walls painted a pale blue, and even gave the hardwood floor a fresh polish. Both he and Hermione had been mesmerized by the prospects of moving their relationship to the next level, and at the time, the gesture had been extremely thoughtful. It was a cozy cute office.

Cute. Hermione rubbed her elbow. For the third time that evening, she had managed to smack her funny bone into the filing cabinet. It hadn't stayed cozy for very long. With her teaching responsibilities, and her own personal studies, her office had become cramped with the addition of a filing cabinet and bookshelf. She didn't even have an office chair. On nights she worked on grading, she would carry a chair from the dining room, and sit in the door way. With the door open, Hermione could hear Ron's grotesque snores. His sleeping habits had been hilarious as teenagers, adorable as a young fresh couple, and tiringly annoying as a 'flat-mate-couple'.

The clock in the hall chimed three times and Hermione dropped her quill to stretch, careful not to hit the filing cabinet again. Hermione pursed her lips together and looked over her graded papers. She had been working nearly two years as the potion master's assistant, and he seemed to assign more writing assignments, the longer they worked together. In fact, if she didn't know any better, she would assume Snape's lengthy essays were to keep her occupied while he tended to hands on assignments in class. Hermione loosely leafed through the essays, and looked over her remarks. The margins were filled with her red lengthy notes. She had a keen eye for finding minor mistakes, and for the papers that were nearly flawless, she would suggest more literature on the topic to expand their knowledge on the subject. And then there were students like Parker McMahen. He clearly overlooked the assignment, more than likely due to the over celebration of Gryfindor's triumph over Slytherin in the Quiditch cup match. Hermione had spent nearly half an hour, re-writing a majority of his paper; correcting his potion ingredients, their use, and his theory, that bubotuber pus could be frozen and used in pill form. Where did he come up these crazy ideas? Hermione had found the paper amusing at first, but pursed her lips after a moment. Severus would be pissed.

Severus. She suddenly saw his flush face, and heavy stare. She sucked in her lower lip, and her tongue lightly rubbed the dry cracked surface. She'd recognized his boots on the landing before he descended the stairs at the pub. His black dragon-hide boots were slightly scuffed at the toes but still shiny from its last polish. She could remember looking down at his boots in her first year, when he openly criticized her in potions. Dragon-hide boots were not only extremely expensive, but they came with a strict maintenance guide. One cleaning spell from a wand, and the dragon-hide would slowly dry out and begin to peel like snake skin.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class," she could hear Snape's first year's speech. Wand-waving was tolerated in his more advanced classes, and only for controlling the flame under the cauldron. Severus treasured his footwear.

Hermione could only remember one time she had seen the potion master without his boots. His Trial.

-x-Flashback to Snape's Trial-x-

Hermione roughly ran her hand through her hair, as she glanced around the courtroom. The Wizengamot were holding an open trial for Severus Snape, former Headmaster, Death Eater, and Murderer. The court room had been expanded to the size and design of a marble Gladiator Arena. The pit was roughly three meters deep and currently vacant.

Above, in a large enclosed globe, dementors swam around in their prison. What was the ministry thinking? This would only lead to trouble. The dementors were hungry and their agitation showed, as they sucked on the walls of the sphere.

Hermione sat with the remaining members of the Order and a few staff members from Hogwarts. Harry, hunched over to Hermione's right, was fidgeting with his new wand as he stared out toward the opposing side of the arena. The Wizengamot had yet to arrive and Hermione could see the gears in his head turning. Snape had survived and returned to the school, dawn after the first battle. Arthur Weasley had attacked with brutal force, breaking the potion master's nose, jaw and a rib or two. Harry came to Snape's rescue, and Fawkes flew in like a missile. It had been like a dream. Fawkes wept on the potion master, spreading its wings out over his frame. There was a flash of light and the phoenix folded its wings back into place as the potion master slowly stood. He was arrested, and taken to Azkaban.

Hermione was pulled from her daydream, as the court room fell silent. The Wizengamot slowly filled in. There were only forty-nine members of the council, since the Minister of Magic position had yet to be filled. When a round squatty woman came in last wearing plum robes, a murmur broke out amongst the members of the Order.

"She can't be, this is insane." Harry turned to look behind them, "Where's Kingsley?"

Dolores Umbridge had managed to weasel her way back into the ministry, and after pulling a few strings, she was seated at the head of the Wizengamot. Her toad like face sent a shiver down Hermione's spine when she addressed the audience.

"Today, the eighth of May," Umbridge began. "We gather the Wizengamot council, to determine the disciplinary actions for the former Headmaster of Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Mr Severus Tobias Snape." At his name, the sound of rubbing stone began to rumble and hole appeared under the council. He was stripped of his usual black robes, and wore a stripped tattered Azkaban jumpsuit. His arms had been shackled, and he socks were muddy. His head hung down and his hair was matted to his face. He moved slowly, and was occasionally was shoved by his Auror escorts. He looked weak and defeated.

Umbridges voice carried on as Hermione turned to Harry, "What have they done to him? He's not even permitted to have shoes?"

Charlie Weasley, the Head Dragon Expert for the Ministry's Magical Creatures department, leant forward, "His boots are Dragon hide. The magical properties in the scales are probably not permitted in Azkaban. The scales not only protect his feet from first year's potions, but they make him a silent traveler. A good tool for a spy."

A marble bench appeared in the center of the Arena, and the Aurors roughly shackled the potion master down; his arms spread out to either side of the cold hard surface.

"And now, officer Rudy will administer the Veritaserum." Umbridge called out. The bald Auror with a blonde goatee, roughtly grabbed the potion master by his jaw. The second Auror, a tall man with his black hair pulled back in a low pony tail, pulled out a vial, and splashed the colorless liquid into Snape's mouth. The audience waited as the Auror's looked over the weakened man. After checking his eyes and pulse, the two Aurors walked back toward the hole under the Wizengamot council, which promptly sealed itself.

The sphere full of dementors slowly descended, and some of the spectators began to move back. The temperature began to drop, and darkness seemed to fill the once brightly lit marble room.

"Will the suspect, please state his name." Dolores called out. She had a pair of glasses at the tip of her nose; like a frog looking at a fly, her eyes gleamed over the frame, as she stared down at Snape.

"Severus Tobias Snape," his weak reply was harsh and scratchy. They had obviously casted an amplifying charm on his voice, the man could barely speak. Hermione felt a pain in her chest, as she watched his shoulders slump forward. His usual character and persona had been crushed; he was defeated already.

"Is it true, Mr Snape, that you carry the mark of 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named'?"

"Yes," he murmered. Hermione suddenly had the desire to see his face, and glanced around at the vacant seats available now that Umbridge had scared spectators closer to the exit. She slowly patted on Harry and Ron's shoulder, and pointed to a row of seats closer to the Wizarding council. With hushed apologies, they slowly made their way around.

"And is it true, that following the Dark Lord's return, you rejoined his circle of followers?"

"Yes," he replied again.

"And when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named gave orders, did you comply?"

"Yes."

Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down, along with a few members of the Order who had followed suit. Snape's face seemed paler than normal, and a cold sweat seemed to spreading along his brow line. What if they had poisoned him with the truth serum?

"Were you present, the night Alastor Moody, former Auror and former fellow co-worker at Hogwarts, was brutally murdered while attacked by Death Eaters?"

His husky reply was short and soft, "Yes."

A small murmur broke out amongst the crowd and Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine as Umbridge's smirk grew. She was adding fuel to the fire on purpose.

"Mr. Snape, while you were leading the staff at Hogwarts as Headmaster, were you involved in the physical abuse of students and staff?" Her pink fluffy quill was slowly swirling about as she wrote on her parchment.

"No," came a quick reply as his head picked up, his eyes going up to the council. His eyes remained impassive, but Hermione could imagine the panic running through him.

"But did you prevent any such incident? Did you intervene in some form or another?" Umbridge pressed, her quill pausing as her insane grin grew even further.

There was a small pause, and the potion master's head fell once more, "No."

Harry was on his feet, "He was a spy for our side! What did you expect him to do? He's the only reason we're not still fighting this war."

Umbridge's face faltered slightly and her eyes met Harry's. "Silence, Mr. Potter. I will have order in my court room." Her smile returned and with a slight wave of her wand the dementors dropped closer to the arena. Harry wrapped his arms around himself and turned to look at the potion master. His breath was visible in the arena and the temperature was dropping drastically. With his arms outstretched, he was unable to hold in his own body heat. Snape's body shook with a shiver and he turned his head into his shoulder, using his own breath to bring him some warmth. The sphere above gave a weak moan as the dementors began to fly around faster and faster; they could sense a feeding time. This was slowly becoming twisted, and even members of the council started to look uncomfortable.

"Did you," Umbridge began again, not waiting for Harry to sit." Or did you not, kill Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore?" The silence was deafening. Snape's frame stiffened and his jaw locked in place. Hermione felt her stomach jumped to her throat as his eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "Come now, Mr. Snape," Umbridge pressed. "We know the truth serum hasn't had time to wear out. Did you kill Albus Dumbledore?" Snape's arms began to struggle on the chains as his face contorted into pain. "We will make you talk."

At her words the sphere above cracked, and as the magical binding became too weak, everyone's heads snapped up. There was a scream, and suddenly, all hell broke loose.

Dementors began to swim out, and in a mad frenzy people began to run and panic. Harry's stag was the first to emit from his wand, as Dementors began to swarm the audience.

Hermione looked down into the pit, Snape sat staring up, his arms were limp and his mouth was agape. He was admitting defeat. She braced herself on the court railing and jumped over into the deep pit. Her feet nearly slipped out from under her as the marble floor began to ice over. She drew her wand out, and began to picture her parents' faces, the sight of Great Hall for the first time, and she was dancing at the Yule Ball. The warmth and happiness began to spread, and her otter immerged brighter and more energetic than ever before. Three dementors were hovering over the pale potion master, and he smiled as they sucked at his soul.

"No! You can't have him!" Hermione yelled, and with a forceful stab of her wand, her otter swam with great speed toward the dark creatures. The dementors screeched as they fled from the swimming mammal. A dementor, unbeknownst to Hermione, silently crept behind her and when she felt an icy breeze on her neck, she turned around. The grey, rotting flesh around the empty sockets made her stomach squirm, she opened her mouth to scream, and that's when it began to attack her happiness. McGonagall was taking points away for her poorly written paper, she heard Molly's scream as she held Fred's dead body to her bosom, and then she saw her parents' cold dead faces. Everything began to get hazy and dark. They were dead. A large stone began to grow in the pit of her stomach. She didn't know why, but she knew, deep down inside, that this wasn't just vision from the dementors magic. Her parents were gone. Maybe death wouldn't be so bad. Would it hurt?

A bright light suddenly broke through, and Hermione heard the Dementors scream as her body filled with warmth. She was lying down on the cold floor, and when she sat up, she saw an enraged Kingsley Shackelbolt. His patronous, a large horntail dragon, had all the dementors trapped back in the globe. Harry's stag was currently circling the potion master and a Lion was pacing around Hermione. The massive beast shook his thick mane, and his large tongue dashed out to lick his massive fangs.

"Are you alright Hermione?" Neville Longbottom walked past the lion and knelt by his class mate.

"I uh-. . I think so," Hermione's eyes never left the lion. "Is that your-"

"Patronous? Yeah, pretty wicked 'eh? Me, with a lion patronous." Neville answered offering her a hand as the lion slowly faded. Hermione took his hand and slowly stood, her head still swimming from her fall. "You sure you're alright?" Neville asked his arm coming around her shoulders. "You were out for a while . . . No one realized you had gone to Snape."

"Professor Snape," Hermione turned to look at Harry, who was removing Snape's shackles. Ron stood behind the weak man, holding him in sitting position. He was out cold, with a smile on his face. Charlie Weasley shook off his large thick coat and draped it over the weak man.

"Kingsley, where the hell have you been?" An older wizard wearing the plum colored Wizengamot robes, approached. His hair was thick and wiry, and his beard had streaks of silver strands. "That mad woman could have killed us all."

"I told you to dismiss her. Where is she Charles?" Kingsley asked, as Aurors stepped in to control the dementors.

"Vanished. Shall I have Rudy and Gregory take the prisoner back to-" the older wizard began.

"No!" Hermione yelled stepping out of Neville's brace. "Kingsley you know he's innocent. Don't let them-"

Kingsley raised a large hand to silence her. "It's alright Hermione." Kingsley turned to Charles who was giving Hermione an odd look. "Mr. Snape will be staying in my custody."

"But Minister-" Charles began to argue.

"Minister?" Everyone seemed to echo at the same time.

"Bloody hell," Ron murmured.

"He'll be staying in my custody Mr. Brown." Kingsley repeated. "I trust Mr. Snape's innocence, but until it can be proven, he needs to be monitored for the public's safety. I will not have him placed in Azkaban until his proven guilty."

Charles clamped his mouth shut, and nodded in understanding. "Well than, shall I have him transferred to your abode."

"No. I'll transfer him myself, Charles, thank you. Have your Aurors scouting the area for Umbridge. She can't have gone far." Kingsley answered. Charles again nodded before turning and leaving. "Oh, and Charles." Mr. Brown turned back to the Minister. "I'll leave you to deal with the public. Daily Prophet is waiting for a statement." Charles simply nodded before taking his leave.

-x-End of Flashback-x-

The clock in the hall chimed four times, snapping Hermione back to reality. She laid down her quill, and stood with a yawn; leaving the chair in the doorway. When she passed Ron's man cave, the light from the T.V. caught her eye. He was passed out, on the couch with his head hanging off the cushion. He'd managed to toe off his Chuddley Cannon socks, and his soda can collection had grown. She softly padded over to him, and straightened his he back onto the sofa. His monstrous snores were louder than before, and Hermione's nose wrinkled at the smell of his breath. She debated on waking him for a moment before turning to leave. He would either become foul and cranky, or worse, he would paw at her and beg her for a quickie. They hadn't had sex in nearly four months, and it was heaven in Hermione's opinion.

She closed the door and headed for the Master bedroom with a smile on her face. A king sized bed all to myself.

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ANOTHER AN: Sorry for the delay, but work has kept me busy. I've attempted to write in my notebook every day, and this weekend I've spent a majority of the time, re-writing parts. I originally had a flashback within a flashback, and realized it was just too confusing. I'll just have to spread everything out a bit more. In the next chapter, Hermione returns to Hogwarts to finish out the school year, and we get to see our favorite Professor again! How did you feel about Umbridge escaping? She'll be back…yes, I know, I'm evil.