The days that followed found their potion production ceasing altogether. Eventually, however, they emerged from their sensual haze and returned to their everyday routine—albeit with a great deal more kissing than before. Since The Serpent refused to employee Hermione while they were lovers, she contributed her brewing services in return for free Polyjuice, and they agreed to allow their relationship to go where it may.

This continued for a few weeks: brewing during the daytime, and enjoying each other at night. Hermione always made sure to take a swig of Polyjuice just before retiring for the night, and The Serpent's mask never slipped. If either one thought it peculiar that they went by "little miscreant" and "The Serpent", even in intimacy, they did not bring it up. At this point Hermione would feel strange calling him anything else, and she suspected he felt the same way.

Soon, however, Hermione began to grow uneasy. There was a certain way about The Serpent that felt oddly familiar, but she could not put her finger on it. At first she chalked it up to his great physical resemblance to Gilderoy Lockhart; but gradually she realized that it was The Serpent's mannerisms, not his looks, that tugged at her memory.

For instance, a few days ago Hermione had woken as dawn was breaking, the early morning sunlight streaming through the tattered curtains in The Serpent's room. Usually they slept until seven or eight, comfortably entwined, but as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes she saw him standing by the window, clearly looking but not seeing. His defeated posture and focused stare reminded her so forcefully of Professor Snape that she gasped. He turned to face her and the temporary likeness was shattered, but Hermione had been unable to forget the incident.

And now that the comparison was lodged in her brain, she saw further resemblances constantly. The way he did not brush his long blond hair away from his face. The nimbleness of his hands and fingers as he chopped ingredients. The amusing comments wrapped in dry sarcasm. She did her best to ignore the part of her brain that was screaming Professor Snape is alive! and ruthlessly squashed the question that always seemed to be hovering at her lips: Who are you, really?

It was a question she could never ask him, because she could not afford to be asked the same in return.

ooo

Another month passed and the days began to grow colder as winter approached. Hermione had managed, with great effort, to put aside her thoughts of Professor Snape. Deciding that any resemblance was purely coincidental and a result of her overactive imagination, she turned her attention instead to their potions and their dizzying passion.

The Serpent was at least an eager lover, if not particularly skilled at first, and Hermione discovered that the anonymity of another's body allowed her to be freer than she might have been as herself. They quickly figured out what the other enjoyed, and their combined smarts resulted in a number of creative encounters. She reveled in The Serpent's attention, and in return, she developed a kind of self-confidence she had never possessed before.

It was only a matter of time before that confidence translated to the laboratory. The Serpent, recognizing her abilities, had granted her permission to dabble in the lab during her free time, and Hermione spent every minute she could experimenting with potions research. Nothing was off-limits to her: no ingredient was unobtainable, no text was forbidden, no failed hypothesis was sneered at. Hermione was giddy with the potential for new discovery, and her enthusiasm spread. The Serpent began to join her in her research, and together they set off down the path of innovation.

Since the day they'd first kissed, The Serpent had refrained from asking her to reveal her true self. She took it as an indication of his trust and afforded him the same. Even without delving into their backgrounds overly much, they were able to get to know one another well enough. She was therefore surprised when he asked her to join him on a sales pitch.

"You want me to go with you? Why?" The Serpent had always operated this aspect of his business alone, and Hermione had never questioned him. She was far more comfortable in the lab than out dealing with people, anyway.

"This particular wizard will be far more inclined to buy from me—us—if there is a pretty witch present to assure him of our potion's quality," The Serpent explained, and Hermione nearly smiled when he corrected himself to include her.

"You think I'm pretty?" Hermione batted her eyelashes at him exaggeratedly, laughing when he grabbed her.

"Exceedingly," he growled into her ear before kissing her senseless. After a few minutes Hermione reluctantly pulled herself away.

"You don't even really know what I look like," she murmured, suddenly sad. "I could be uglier than a troll-"

"Nevermind that, it's your brains I admire the most, as you well know." He waved a hand, dismissing her entire physical appearance with one casual gesture. "As I was saying before you interrupted me, I have attempted to earn this wizard's patronage before, but he does not particularly care for me for some unknown reason. I have heard that he fired his previous brewer, and I'm hoping that your sunny personality and ample...assetswill convince him to bring his business here."

He began to pace and so missed Hermione's glare. He was using her for her assets, was he? She harrumphed softly but The Serpent did not cease his pacing. "Do you still have access to wherever you obtained your multitude of hairs from? If so, I would suggest you return and acquire several samples. I will decide which you shall don the day of the appointment."

"Yes, sir," Hermione retorted, becoming aggravated by his complete dismissal of her attractiveness. She supposed she was also still confused from her earlier realization that he had no idea what she truly looked like. Would he still find her attractive if she was herself? How could he-

"What did you call me?" He was immediately nose to nose with her, angry sparks shooting out of his eyes.

"I-I called you 'sir', but I was only kidding, because you were ordering me about-" Hermione knew she was babbling, but The Serpent's unaccountable agitation had completely surprised her. He glared at her for a few moments more, then his shoulders slumped and he stepped back.

"My apologies. For a moment I feared-" He stopped and cleared his throat, continuing in a lighter tone that Hermione could tell was forced. "I should not have snapped. We will be meeting this wizard in two days' time." With that, he spun and exited the room, leaving Hermione contemplative and confused.

ooo

Two days later found them waiting apprehensively in an abandoned warehouse near the back of Diagon Alley. Hermione was Polyjuiced as a very curvy young woman with a mass of golden wavy hair. She crossed her arms and tapped her fingers against her bicep, impatient to get this meeting over with.

"Stop that. Those cantaloupes on your chest are distracting me," The Serpent snapped at her. He had grown increasingly on edge as this appointment approached, and Hermione wondered (not for the first time) just who they were meeting today.

She did not have to wait long. The back door opened, briefly admitting a shaft of sunlight before slamming shut again. The bulky wizard swaggered forward and Hermione's lips begged to curl in a sneer as she saw that it was none other than Zacharias Smith. Apparently the erstwhile Hufflepuff was in the market for illegal potions and had the Galleons to ensure that he received the best.

Trying not to roll her eyes, Hermione stuck her hand out for Zacharias to shake and recalled her assumed name. "Hello! I'm Marigold Mattingly, it's a pleasure to meet you." Hermione managed to repress her shudder of revulsion as Zacharias' eyes went straight to her breasts.

"The pleasure is entirely mine," he assured her, his eyes eventually finding their way to her face. "But tell me, what's a lovely girl such as yourself doing tangled up with this curmudgeon?" He indicated The Serpent with a nod of his head, and Hermione sensed rather than saw The Serpent's massive pride beginning to swell. She jumped in before he could say anything they'd regret.

"He's quite brilliant, as I'm sure you know, or you wouldn't be here," she answered, remembering the background information The Serpent had given her about their previous dealings. "As it happens, I've a talent for potions myself, so I naturally gravitated to someone who could give me what I...desired." Hermione couldn't help but allow a bit of suggestion creep into her tone as she finished her statement... Really, Zacharias' attitude was unbelievable. Let him draw what conclusions he would.

She knew he understood her implications when his eyebrows shot up and he examined The Serpent with an assessing gaze. "I see," he said slowly, idly rubbing a hand against his chin. "Well, old man, if you've managed to snag this beauty, maybe you've more skill to offer than I realized. Tell me again why I should buy my potions from you."

Hermione let out a breath of relief as The Serpent launched into his pitch. It seemed that he had been right about bringing her along—Zacharias was definitely interested now. She nodded at the appropriate spots and begrudgingly bent forward a bit when The Serpent shot a commanding glance at her. Zacharias' eyes darted over and Hermione had to restrain herself from hexing him on the spot.

"Alright, enough—I'm not in the mood to stand about all day. Give me one reason why I should purchase from you, and looking at your lovely assistant won't count." Zacharias winked at her and Hermione nearly groaned.

"Very well. If you trust me with your potions needs, I will bottle fame for you, brew glory for you, even-"

Hermione and Zacharias recoiled as one. She was sure the horror on his face was mirrored on her own, but she rushed into the breach before The Serpent could ruin this for them.

"Ha, ha!" Hermione chuckled loudly. "Good one! I think we all know you'll do no such thing for Mr. Smith," she said forcefully. The Serpent looked at her questioningly, and she widened her eyes at him, hoping he would follow her lead. Zacharias had backed away and his eyes were locked on The Serpent's face, his fear and distaste evident. "Mr. Smith. Please forgive the ill-conceived joke on my partner's part. I believe we were all schooled under the same Potions Master, and my business associate here fancies himself a bit of a copycat."

Zacharias' eyes moved to Hermione, and she stepped forward, trying to press her advantage. "He always liked the drama of Professor Snape's class," she explained, trying to seem like she was telling Zacharias something in confidence. She silently thanked The Serpent for forcing her to choose this particular body, as it was helping her cause now. "But he only wishes he was a fearsome brewer just like that wizard, Merlin rest his soul."

Hermione shot a glance back at The Serpent, waiting for him to agree with her. He coughed. "Ah, yes, my apologies. Being a Ravenclaw, I sometimes forget that Professor Snape was not as accommodating of students from other houses. He was strict with us, but not rude, and I occasionally—forget—his...legacy." He shifted uncomfortably as Zacharias stared intently at him again. Finally, Zacharias laughed, albeit nervously, and his stance relaxed. Hermione's heart slowed closer to its normal pace, and she quickly launched into the benefits he would receive if he hired them to do his brewing. The Serpent remained mostly silent throughout, a fact for which Hermione was eminently grateful.

ooo

Fifteen minutes later, she and the Hufflepuff had come to a mutually satisfactory agreement, and they shook hands all around before parting ways. As soon as Zacharias was out of sight, Hermione grabbed The Serpent by the hair and Apparated them to his flat.

"I cannot BELIEVE you would be so STUPID! Of all the idiotic things to say! Have you NO idea of your reputation?" She shook the fist holding his hair for emphasis before releasing him and pacing furiously around the room. "You are INFAMOUS for that speech! It is legendary among every student who has ever stepped foot in your classroom for the past two decades! Honestly, what WERE you thinking?"

"I-"

"You WEREN'T thinking, clearly. You nearly gave Zach and I heart attacks, nevermind that you came this close to scaring him off permanently and ruining your disguise-" Hermione broke off, her mouth agape as she realized she was yelling at him for the wrong thing entirely. "You let us all think you were dead!" she screeched, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

"Marigold—miscreant—blast it! Whatever your name is—be quiet!" the man she now knew was Severus Snape bellowed at her. He was flustered and angry. "I have no idea what you-"

"Just stop," she snarled. "You won't convince me that I'm confused. You're Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts, spy for Dumbledore, former Death Eater...you're DEAD!"

He pressed his lips together and did not deny her words. Hermione buried her hands in her hair and wished, for one wild moment, that she had her old curls back. Tugging at them had always soothed her, and this girl's gentle waves did nothing to ease the emotions rolling through her now. He's alive, he's alive, he's alive. The words ran through her mind over and over. There were so many questions she had for him, so many things she needed to know-

"How did you know I was a spy for Dumbledore?" he asked quietly, dangerously. Hermione froze. She replayed the last few minutes in her head, trying to ascertain whether she'd said anything to give herself away. She didn't think so. At most, he would now be aware that she had, at one time, been a student; otherwise, her secret was still safe.

She studied his face as she decided how to respond. Harry had made sure to tell everyone who would listen that Snape had been on their side, but Hermione had no idea how the greater Wizarding community really felt about the man. Seeming too supportive would likely lead him to the conclusion that she was close to the Order of the Phoenix, so she infused her tone with disdain.

"I'm no naïve little first-year. I heard the reports about you after the war—how you were supposedly acting nobly all this time, how you were loyal to Dumbledore, how you loved Lily P-"

"Enough!" He cut her off with a swipe of his hand, beginning to pace. "Damn Potter and his uncontrollable tongue," he muttered. The rest of his words were mostly lost to her—the only snippets she could hear were "brat", "my business", and "bloody brat".

Hermione's eyes tracked his progress as he continued to stride around their little flat like a caged beast. The idea that Severus Snape was alive, well, and blond was just preposterous, and yet—it all began to make sense. The high-quality potions, the acerbic tongue, even his nickname—The Serpent—it all tied back to the man they all believed to be dead. Hermione chastised herself for not noticing sooner. She wondered now how he'd managed to survive. Clearly his disguise was absolute; they'd lived together for months now and she'd never seen it slip, not even when they'd-

Oh, god.

She was sleeping with Professor Snape.

The words were sluggish even in her mind.

She was sleeping with Professor Snape!

Hermione braced herself against a lab table as she fought to control her lungs, which had suddenly decided to stop working. Taking great gasping breaths of air, she shuddered as a bead of sweat rolled down her spine. She had to regain her senses; it wouldn't do to come apart like this right now—there were things she had to know, things she had to ask him. Unfortunately, it seemed that he was going to ask the questions first.

"You've just realized that you've been having sex with your greasy, foul, old Potions professor, haven't you?" he said, sounding almost bored. Hermione's first instinct was to bristle at the acidic tone, but she struggled to remember what she'd learned of him since coming to him as The Serpent: the cutting remarks were usually only doled out when he was feeling defensive.

"No, I've just realized that I've been having sex with a man I thought to be dead," she countered as calmly as she could.

He scoffed and moved closer, an angry smile lighting his face when she reflexively took a step back. "Tell me, did you ever entertain naughty schoolgirl thoughts about me while you were at Hogwarts? Maybe giggle to your friends that you'd kiss me if it meant receiving an O in Potions?" Then his expression lost all trace of amusement and he gripped her upper arms tightly as he growled, "Or did you pity poor, ugly Professor Snape, doomed to haunt the dungeons, forever celibate? Did you mock me, little miscreant?"

"N-no! I only ever had the utmost respect for you, Pr-professor!" Hermione swallowed and forced herself to relax in his punishing grip. "I never felt sorry for you," she declared. "You made your choices; you could have acted differently if you'd truly been so miserable."

He released her so quickly that she stumbled and caught her hip against the nearest worktable. Spinning away from her, he muttered, "Oh, yes, I made my choices; a handful of terrible ones defined my life until last May. Since then, things have been different, dare I say...better. I had thought..." He trailed off, and Hermione finally acknowledged the defeated slouch of her professor for what it was. She could not believe she'd been so blind all these months.

"Well, my little miscreant, this is the part where you go screaming from the room, never to look back," he stated flatly. Hermione felt a moment of panic at his casual dismissal of her and everything they'd shared, but then she paused, considering. Had their situation truly changed so much? She respected, admired, lusted after, and yes, even liked, The Serpent, and she strongly suspected he felt the same way about her. Was that going to change simply because she now knew his identity?

Sighing, Hermione realized the moment of truth was upon her. She could hardly expect him to keep her about when she held all the power—she would have to tell him who she was, and then they could both make a rational decision about their futures. Firming her resolve, she crossed the room to lay a hand on his arm, trying not to feel hurt when he flinched at the contact.

"There's no need to be nasty," she murmured. "Besides, I'm hardly the only one in for a bit of a shock today."

He turned questioning blue eyes on her, and Hermione stepped far enough back that she would have room for a Shield Charm if necessary. Digging through her mokeskin pouch, she retrieved the tiny black vial that contained the antidote to her particular Polyjuice.

Looking at Severus, she noted how uncertain he looked, and before she had time to think about it, she leapt forward and kissed him, hard. If he reacted to her true identity the way she thought he would, that would without a doubt be their last kiss. Returning to her place, Hermione uncorked the vial and downed the contents, closing her eyes so she wouldn't have to watch him watching her as she transformed.

When the bubbling sensation stopped, Hermione waited. She did not want to open her eyes until she heard some sort of sound from him—a gasp, a snarl, a hex—any would tell her how angry he was with her. But no sound came. There was complete and utter silence emanating from his direction, and there was nothing for it—Hermione opened her eyes to look at him, an apology already forming on her lips.

"I'm s-"

"I should have known," he muttered, rubbing two fingers against his temple. "Unsurpassed brilliance, seemingly immune to my barbs, incessantly chattering-"

"I do not incess-"

"But why in the name of Albus Dumbledore are you in hiding?" he burst out, clearly bemused. "Aren't you the darling of the Wizarding world? 'Harry Potter's brains'? The golden part of the Golden Trio?" His confusion was palpable, and Hermione found herself at a loss for words. Where was his anger, his disgust, his complete dismissal of her as his companion now that he knew who she was?

"I-I was, yes, but then... Well, now I'm not," she stammered.

He rolled his eyes as he resumed pacing. "Well put," he drawled. "Now that you've illuminated that mystery for me, perhaps we should discuss business before we attempt to sort out the tangle that is our personal lives." He stopped pacing to stare at her, and even though the eyes were no longer black, the same shiver went through Hermione as it had whenever his gaze had bored into hers in school. "Do you think Mr. Smith believed your explanation?"

Hermione didn't have to ask him to clarify. He had slipped up, majorly, when he'd quoted his own first-year speech to a former student. "Luckily for you, I'm acquainted with Zach, and yes, I believe he was convinced," Hermione answered truthfully. "He was never one to...overanalyze things."

Severus nodded and Hermione could almost see the gears in his brain turning. "That is good for us," he murmured, mostly to himself, "but we cannot take the risk... Can you still Apparate cross-country?"

"Of course, but-"

"We'll have to go at nightfall, I daresay; take only what we can carry-"

"What are you-"

"-need new identities, both of us, what a bother-"

"SERPENT!" Hermione jumped to stand directly in front of him, forcing him to cease his ranting and address her. He looked taken aback at her use of his nickname. "I've told you that Zach won't make trouble for us. He's probably already forgotten your little misstep, and he has no idea who I am."

Severus gazed at Hermione a moment before dropping his eyes to the floor. "We cannot be certain," he said. "I have ruined this for both of us-"

"No. No, you haven't. We can continue as we have been, and in the future, I'll deal with any clients that may have been former students."

He sighed deeply and moved away from her. Hermione felt a chill race down her spine at the desolate look on his face. Was she being too optimistic? That had certainly never been her role before; Hermione Granger had usually been the one worrying about the consequences of every little word and action.

"Zacharias Smith is hardly the first customer whom I've inadvertently frightened off," he admitted quietly. "Until today, however, I had no idea what I'd said to make them run from me. I attributed their dislike to my general aura; after all, that was typically the reaction I received prior to the war as well."

Hermione's heart broke for him as the confession spilled from his lips. She knew, however, that he would not welcome her pity. "Yes, well, I can very nearly guarantee that you must have reminded all those people of 'scary Professor Snape' in some way. Tell me, were they mostly Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors?"

Severus snorted in amusement and turned to face her again, his features sobering. "Why are you still here, Hermione?" he asked wearily.

"Well, that's just rude," she retorted softly. He continued to look at her as though he was trying to figure her out, and Hermione realized that if she trusted him enough to reveal her true identity, then she probably ought to trust him with the whole story, as well.

She shrugged as she explained, "Immediately after the war, things were fine, as you'd expect—we were touted as Wizarding heroes and all that. But then...the goblins started demanding repayment for the damages to Gringott's, Ron and I went our separate ways, and before I knew what was happening, I'd become the 'immoral, unlawful seductress of the Wizarding world', or something to that effect. Rita Skeeter wrote a particularly excellent piece on my blackened soul." The instant anger and pain as she recalled the events were still present, but Hermione realized they had faded over the past months. She supposed she had The Serpent—or rather, Severus Snape—to thank for helping her come back to herself again. "So, as it happens, I've nowhere else to go, I'm destitute, I mostly refuse to perform magic other than brewing, and I can't be seen in my own skin. I'm rather a lot of baggage, I'm afraid."

She inwardly congratulated herself on not sounding too bitter about her situation. The silence in the laboratory on the heels of her confession began to grow deafening, however, and Hermione wondered if he would tell her to leave again. If he did, she knew she would obey, much as it pained her to do so.

Finally, he huffed out a deep breath and moved to one of the long tables, sorting the bottled ingredients atop it into two piles. "We'll just have to go further abroad, then," he said nonchalantly. "Help me decide which of these to pack, will you?"

"I..." Whatever reaction she had expected from him, an invitation to help him pack supplies for their move abroad was not it. "Just like that? You'll take me with you? I chatter incessantly, as you pointed out earlier-mmphf!" He silenced her with a long kiss before setting her back and gesturing at another shelf of ingredients.

"Thankfully I have discovered a rather delightful way to shut you up, so I believe that we will manage adequately," he told her, his customary smirk looking more like a smile on his new face.

Hermione shook herself. It seemed she was moving out of England to begin anew with her partner: heroic and tragically deceased ex-Death Eater, Severus Snape. Then the meaning of his words hit her: "'Adequate'?" She attacked him, jumping up and wrapping her legs about his waist as he staggered and attempted to balance them. "I'll show you adequate," she growled as she kissed him fiercely. Her heart soared as she realized that she had found someone who accepted her and, more importantly, liked her for who she really was.

Severus spun them and laid her back onto one of the lab tables, leaning over her with hunger evident in his gaze. "Just be sure to secure more hairs from that buxom blonde Muggle, hm?" he suggested before he plundered her mouth and dragged his hands over her body.

Alright, almost liked her for who she really was. Hermione decided that inhabiting the other girl's body was a small price to pay for happiness with her Serpent, and then she stopped thinking much at all.


A/N: Tsk, tsk, Severus, surely you'd have realized that speech struck fear into the hearts of students for generations! I'm a Hufflepuff according to Pottermore and generally try to be a bit nicer to my house in fics, but in canon, Zacharias bailed on the DA and elbowed people out of the way during the evacuation, so I think in this case he was the right choice of character.

I'm not JK Rowling.