Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling et al. Any characters or locations you recognise are the intellectual property of these individuals and corporations. I make no money from the writing of this story.
THANK YOU to everyone who has been reviewing, favouriting and alerting this story. I am sorry it has taken so long to update. Please do not fear; it will not be abandoned. This story is mostly warm and fluffy but there will be some drama for our favourite couple to deal with, along with the development of their relationship—all of it ;)
That said, please enjoy this chapter.
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Chapter IV
It was after dinner that evening before Hermione even realised she had not spared a thought to Ron or her situation since speaking to Jackie and Maria in the library that morning. After cleaning the staff kitchen in the medical office following the morning tea break, Hermione headed straight home, intending to relax for a while before walking back to the village and having a cup of tea with Jackie as invited. As soon as she opened the pantry to start preparing some lunch she realised that as a good visitor, she really should take something with her to Jackie's.
After wolfing down a basic cheese and pickle sandwich, Hermione stood in front of the pantry munching on an apple as she perused the contents. She remembered back to when she and her mother would bake oat biscuits on a weekend and recalled that the recipe was fairly basic. Locating Alana's cookbook, she rapidly flipped through the pages until she found the right one. Checking the book against what was in the pantry and fridge; she quickly extracted all the required ingredients and set to work. She melted butter, cracked eggs, measured milk and dry ingredients and mixed them all together with an air of experience that had always been lacking whenever she was in the kitchen. Once she had closed the oven door on the biscuits she turned and surveyed her mess. With a smirk, she withdrew her wand and waved it, letting her magic work its, well, magic, and cleaning the kitchen in a matter of seconds.
After retrieving her book from the sitting room, Hermione settled onto the settee near the kitchen door. She figured she should not venture too far from the oven lest she become absorbed in her book and forget about her baking. She managed to get through another chapter before the oven timer dinged and she jumped up to take the biscuits out to cool. The aroma was not quite how she remembered it as a child but she supposed that old memories were like that.
Checking the clock, Hermione figured she had enough time to shower and change before heading back into the village. As she arranged the biscuits on a plate, she realised she had enough to take some to the medical office as well and so prepared another one. With a sly smile, she popped two apples into a bag for Emmet and Severus, deciding she would deny them the sweet treat she had made.
It was with only a few nerves that Hermione knocked on the door to the blue house next to the butcher's shop. The nerves melted away almost instantly when Jackie opened the door with a huge smile and ushered her inside. Ryan was playing quietly on a rug on the floor and was soon joined by Maria's youngest. Wendy also joined Jackie, Hermione and Maria at the table and the three locals started to regale their new friend about all the village gossip. Jackie had gratefully taken Hermione's plate from her when she came in and served it with a pot of chamomile tea. All four of the ladies bit into the biscuits at the same time, but Hermione was the only one to grab a napkin and immediately spit it out.
"Don't eat it!" she said shrilly, and the others all followed her example.
"Hermione, what did you put in this?" Wendy asked. They all took a long drink of tea to eradicate the taste from their mouths.
"I don't know," Hermione said. She was mortified she had fed her new friends something so vile. "It was just eggs, butter, milk, oats, flour and sugar."
"Maybe the eggs or milk were off," Maria suggested. She had a kind smile on her face. "Don't worry about it; I'm sure you'll do better next time."
"If you knew my prowess in the kitchen I'm sure you wouldn't say that," Hermione said ruefully. "I'm pretty much an acknowledged disaster."
Jackie retrieved a packet of biscuits from her cupboard. "Then you can only get better," she said supportively as she offered the substitutes around. "Seriously, we'll look back at this and laugh."
"John wouldn't let me in the kitchen at the pub for the first eighteen months," Wendy said. "Even after I married Pete I had to prove that I was worthy before he let me feed the customers."
"I remember that!" Jackie laughed. "There was practically a ceremony on the day he finally let her in," she told Hermione.
"The vanilla essence in the fried rice didn't help my case," Wendy sad wryly. "I reckon that put me back by about six months!"
"Vanilla?" Hermione asked incredulously.
"Have you ever noticed how it looks exactly like soy sauce?" Wendy asked. "The vanilla bottle was leaking so it was poured into a syrup style bottle and I mixed the two of them up." All of them laughed.
"That does make me feel better," Hermione said. "It sounds exactly like something I'd do."
They spent the thirty minutes remaining before Jackie and Maria had to leave to pick up their older boys from nursery school chatting about which local businesses would meet Hermione's needs and which ones she would be better off heading into Hastings for. The four of them parted with plans to meet up again for lunch on Monday, this time at Maria's house (the barn conversion at the end of the lane just past the church). Hermione was relieved of any obligation to bring anything.
It was with a light heart at having spent such a pleasant interlude with her new friends that Hermione entered the medical offices. She headed straight to the kitchen to make tea for everyone and to cut up the apples she had bought for Emmet and Severus. Intending to throw the plate of ruined biscuits straight into the bin, Hermione had to place it on the bench when she discovered the bag was full. Wanting to be helpful, she took the bag to the outside bin and returned in time to see Severus choking down one of her biscuits.
"Oh no! You weren't supposed to eat that!" she said with a grimace.
"Just me or anyone?" Severus asked. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and sculled it down.
"Apparently the eggs or milk may have been spoiled," Hermione offered.
"I seem to recall entire lectures on the importance of the freshness of ingredients, Miss Granger," Severus admonished.
"I know," Hermione said. "They seemed fine at the time."
"Hmm," Severus took the apple Hermione held out to him. "Is this alright?" he asked skeptically.
"Yes, that is fine, Mum bought them just yesterday," Hermione assured him. "Generally you can trust anything to eat in our house unless I cooked it."
"How is it that you managed to produce potions which I could pass to Madam Pomfrey for use in the hospital wing, yet you cannot produce edible food?" Severus asked.
Hermione looked at him as though it were obvious. "That was for class! I was being graded!"
Severus' eyebrows rose in slight surprise at her vehemence. "Perhaps a class is in order then," he suggested before muttering, "Along with that visit to a professional."
"Funny," Hermione deadpanned as she dumped the plate of biscuits into the bin. 'Although, what else do I have to do?' she thought. Maybe a class was her answer. She held no illusions about herself—she thrived in an academic environment. There was something about being in front of a teacher that just brought out the best in her—the drive and desire to succeed. She knew it was probably a touch unhealthy, but damn it, it worked for her! 'And isn't the first step acknowledging you have a problem?' she thought stubbornly. A cooking course would be beneficial as well simply because she would end up with a useful, life skill at the end of it. As tempted as she might be to take a literary course or an art class, cooking would ultimately be the best for her.
"Are you going to eat the other apple?" Severus asked.
"No, this is for Dad; I had an apple with my lunch. An apple a day keeps the doctor away," she quoted.
"Do you wish to keep the doctor away, Hermione?" Severus asked.
Hermione blushed slightly. "Well, maybe not all the doctors," she said, a flirtatious edge to her voice. Severus smiled at her and winked. Again, she was taken aback by the changes in him.
When she had woken up that morning she had been a lonely, depressed sad-sack planning to sit on the window seat and wallow in her misery. Now as she prepared for bed she thought about the new friends she had made, the purpose she now had in undertaking cooking instruction and, maybe, the stirrings of a new attraction.
She wondered if the stirrings were mutual.
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The next few days passed by swiftly as Hermione continued to explore her surroundings and think about what she wished to do now. Upon discovering that Hermione's wardrobe for the muggle world consisted of a pair of jeans, two skirts, three identical blouses and a few jumpers, Alana dragged her daughter to Hastings for a shopping spree. She was wearing some of her new clothes when she arrived at the pub on Tuesday night.
Maria immediately waved her over and Hermione joined the South family with a smile. She was introduced to Andrew and during the course of the meal he volunteered to drive her to Hastings the two days a week she had signed up for a cooking class. He also offered to teach her how to drive when he found out she lacked the skill. Alana and Emmet had been gently pressing her to acquire her learner's permit as soon as possible but Hermione had been resisting, thinking it was a bit pathetic to be twenty five and applying for her permit. Andrew accepted without a thought her excuse that living in London did not require a car and she had just never gotten around to it. She was happy to take up his offer to teach her, it seemed better to learn from someone she did not know that well rather than one of her parents or even Severus who she was positive would slip straight back into 'professor' mode if he were to undertake her instruction. Hermione wanted to keep that dynamic of their lives firmly in the past.
The pub was slightly busier than it had been the week before. Even Maria commented on it. It appeared some tourists had come in for dinner as well. Hermione hoped they would leave soon after dinner so she and Severus could have some time alone again as they had the previous week. Luckily the tourists departed swiftly after dinner and Maria and Andrew declared they had to get their sons home for bed. Severus' uncle and his friend left at the same time, leaving Hermione and Severus alone in the pub. With a slightly flirtatious smile, Hermione slipped onto one of the barstools, nodding when Severus held up a glass, silently asking if she would like an ale. He waved off the payment. "My treat," he said.
"Thank you," Hermione said gratefully.
"The least I can do is shout a beer to a poor, unemployed woman," he teased.
"Don't say that too loud, you'll get all the unemployed women in here and we'd lose the quiet," she teased back.
"I'll revise the statement then, the least I can do is shout a beer to a poor, very pretty, unemployed woman named Hermione Granger. She is the only one who will benefit from my largesse," he winked.
Hermione blushed at his words. "You think I'm pretty?" she asked.
Severus startled slightly. He had not really even realised he had said that. He cleared his throat before speaking again. "I think you look very pretty this evening." Hermione had dressed that evening in a blue denim skirt and a white, V-necked t-shirt under an open black shirt. She wore simple flat shoes on her feet and clipped her hair back in a decorative hair clip to keep the bushy mass away from her lightly made-up face. Severus thought the entire look suited her—youthful but modest, put together but not overly done.
"Thank you, I'm still getting used to wearing Muggle clothing all the time again," Hermione said. "Mum and I had a huge shopping spree in Hastings on the weekend. I got most of my things from this one boutique where the sales assistants practically treated me like a doll! We spent about four hours and an obscene amount of money in there, but I'm certainly set for the next few months in terms of clothes."
"How did you explain needing a whole new wardrobe?" Severus asked curiously.
"Mum took one of the girls aside and 'confided' that I'd just come out of a bad relationship with nothing and needed to be clothed from head to foot. Not exactly a lie, but I'm sure those girls must have thought I was a battered wife or something," Hermione replied with a grimace. "You're looking quite handsome yourself this evening," she returned his earlier compliment with a blush. Severus was again wearing the same jeans that Hermione had admired him in the previous week but tonight he had coupled them with a black shirt that emphasised his broad shoulders and trim waist. "I don't know if I told you, but I do like your hair like that," she continued.
Severus ran a slightly self-conscious hand through his short locks. "Thank you, I find it much easier to manage this way, even if I have to travel to Hastings every three weeks to have it cut."
"You don't go to the hairdresser here?" Hermione asked.
Severus shook his head. "No, while I do try and stay local as much as possible, the hairdresser here has an unfortunate habit of trying to set me up with her daughter and so I started going to a men's barber in the town. It's very hard to say no to someone when they are holding a pair of scissors near your neck."
Hermione could not help the giggle that burst forth. Her gaze travelled down his face to his neck and turned puzzled. His quizzical expression prompted her to ask, "What happened to your scarring? I can't even see anything there."
Rubbing his neck where he had been injured, he simply said, "Plastic surgery." Hermione nodded but cast her eyes downward. "What is the matter?" he asked.
Hermione sighed and began to roll up one of her sleeves. "It's just that I would have a tough time explaining what this even meant to a surgeon, let alone have it removed," she said sadly. She turned her arm and exposed the crudely carved 'Mudblood' on her skin. Severus hissed angrily as he pushed himself off the back counter and approached her. He reached out for her arm and pulled it closer, examining the scar in detail.
"Who did this to you?" he asked through clenched teeth.
"Bellatrix Lestrange," Hermione replied quietly. She tugged her arm back and Severus immediately let it go.
"How did you explain it to the shop assistants? Surely they would have seen it," he asked.
Shaking her head, Hermione replied, "No, I use a glamour charm on it whenever I think it might be exposed. Wearing long sleeves like this I didn't bother tonight." She rolled the sleeve back down to cover it again.
"Why did no one in St Mungo's remove it for you?" he asked.
"They didn't even investigate it," Hermione said bitterly. "As soon as I said it came from Lestrange they said it was a curse scar and therefore could not be removed, they didn't even try. I tried to brew a scar removal potion myself but it was too difficult with everything else going on and then I suppose I just learned to live with the daily glamour. Out of sight, out of mind, you know."
"Who else knows you have it?" he asked.
"Everybody knows," Hermione replied. "Ron was not shy about giving interviews in the aftermath and he had no compunction in informing every journalist of its existence. They then had no compunction in reporting it. He didn't understand, like most things."
Severus shook his head. This was precisely one of the reasons he had left the Wizarding world behind, there was no privacy for anyone. "I will brew the potion for you," he said. Hermione's eyes flew up to meet his.
"No, it's okay," she tried to argue. "I know you've turned your back on magic, you don't have to do this just for me."
Severus looked at her with a curious expression. With a flick, his wand appeared in his hand from a wrist holster. "What on earth makes you think I have turned my back on magic?" he asked.
"Well, you're a doctor… and you live in a Muggle village…" Hermione guessed.
"There are plenty of witches and wizards with Muggle professions living in Muggle locations. Just because I no longer completely immerse myself in a Magical lifestyle doesn't mean I still don't perform spells and brew potions. Magic is a part of me; I could no sooner turn my back on it than I could stop breathing. I turned my back on the Wizarding world, there's a big difference."
"Oh," Hermione meekly replied.
"Have you turned your back on magic?" Severus asked in concern. Just as it would be dangerous to suddenly try and stop breathing, it was dangerous for a witch or wizard to try and completely cut magic from their day to day life.
"Well no," Hermione said. She gestured to her arm. "I do the glamour charm most days."
Severus nodded. 'Of course, she just told you that, idiot!' a voice in his head shouted.
"Plus I hate cleaning by hand," Hermione admitted. "That summer we spent trying to clean out Grimmauld Place did it and I figured after that, why on earth would I break out a mop and bucket or slave over a kitchen sink when a simple flick of my wrist could do a better job? Mum loves it now, she said even if I ever move out I have to come back once a week to spell the house clean for her," she finished with a laugh.
Severus shook his head with a smile. He knew how much Alana hated housework having listened to her complaints about it for the last two years. "You will need a cover story for that," he pointed out.
"Oh, Mum already came up with one. Apparently I'm a touch OCD and a night owl to boot. I spend the night hours just cleaning and there's nothing she can do to stop me," Hermione said in a long-suffering tone meant to mock her mother.
Severus laughed. 'She is delightful,' he thought. 'I really want to get to know her better.' Every conversation they had had over the past week had been pleasant and informative.
"What are your other plans now that you've had some time to reflect?" he asked.
Hermione smiled and shifted on the seat as though getting more comfortable. "I have signed up for cooking classes as per your suggestion," she told him with a mock-pointed glare. "That's on Wednesday and Friday mornings. Andrew just offered to drive me in and I can catch the bus back at lunchtime. Mum wants some Royal Doulton figurines to round out her collection so I have been researching some of the local antique fairs. I was talking to Mrs Ellis and she asked me to keep a look out at the same time for books for the library so that should also take up quite a bit of time. I was roped in to monitoring the library this morning for the seniors who did not want to play bingo in the main hall. I met a Mr Bay and he gave me a lecture about the Battle of Hastings which was very enjoyable. He set me homework if you can believe it! And I was just informed by young Nick that I have to be at story time on Thursday at the library so my time is being occupied quite nicely."
"I must admit I have been enjoying the regular visits to the office as well," Severus said.
"You and Dad just like the food I bring you," Hermione teased.
"It is a nice balance of sweet and healthy," he agreed. "I like seeing you, too, though."
Hermione blushed and ducked her head. "I like seeing you, too," she confessed. They maintained eye contact for a few moments, an unspoken promise seeming to pass between them. "So…"
"So…" Severus echoed with a smirk.
"Tell me more about Singapore," Hermione said. Severus launched into a detailed description about the city-state and what he had experienced there. True to his personality he had stayed well away from the main tourist areas and delved into the communities and pockets more known to the locals. He had befriended an elderly Singaporean couple on the cruise the first night when he had been placed at their table for dinner and they showed him the hidden gems that so many visitors either ignored or did not realise existed. He had even recognised the Singapore equivalent of The Leaky Cauldron, separating the Wizarding community from the muggle one, and went back later to explore it at his leisure. There he was recognised by a former student from his early teaching years that lived there and he learned about some little-known Wizarding locations to visit as well.
Hermione found herself almost hypnotised by his words, well his voice, actually. The passion with which he spoke, the inflections in his tones… Hermione found herself wondering what it would be like lying on a rug with him, by a babbling brook as he read to her from a classic novel or a book of poetry. She could not help the sigh from escaping her lips, right in the middle of Severus describing the rare plants he had found deep in the Botanical Gardens of the city-state he had visited.
"Am I boring you?" Severus asked worriedly. He thought she had been listening to him rather avidly but he knew he could sometimes lose his audience once he got going; especially when he moved into the realms of academic knowledge he possessed.
"No, not at all," Hermione assured him, her eyes bright. 'I could listen to you all day,' she thought. "It just all sounds so fascinating."
"Have you done much travelling?" he asked.
Hermione shook her head. "Not really; I used to travel through Europe quite a bit with Mum and Dad when I was younger but once I became friends with Harry and Ron I preferred their company. I guess most teenagers are like that. After that last year of the war I had no desire to move around and by the time I did, Ron wasn't interested in travelling anywhere that didn't involve Quidditch. I would rather put my eyes out than go on a Quidditch holiday; it was bad enough that it was part of my every-day life—I didn't need it when I was trying to take a break! I've visited Harry quite a few times in France but I don't really count that, I would go wherever he was in order to see him."
"Do you see Potter often?" Severus tried but failed to completely keep the derision out of his tone. Hermione smirked at him but he was unrepentant; she should know by now of the animosity just the man's name could invoke in him.
"Often enough considering we live in different countries," Hermione replied. "I would say five or six times a year and we write often. I don't know what I would have done without him last month."
"It did sound like he was a great help to you," Severus conceded. Emmet had told him how much Harry had done for Hermione when Ron's infidelity came to light. Severus also reluctantly admired the way the Boy-Wonder had managed to secure extra monetary compensation for his friend from the Ministry. "Have you really dealt with what has happened to you?" he asked, his professional nature coming to the fore.
"I think I have now. Mum fancies herself something of a psychologist and she said I had a period of mourning and now I just have to be careful that everything I am committing to isn't just a way of compensating for my loss."
"What do you think?" Severus asked.
"Are you trying to psycho-analyse me now?" Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Not at all, merely being a concerned friend," Severus was quick to reply.
"I think I'm fine. Honestly, I'm glad the relationship ended; I was stuck in such a rut and so removed from the person I thought I was and want to be and I didn't even realise it! I'm really excited about the different things I'm getting to do now. I mean, when would I have ever had the time for a cooking class? And if I had mentioned I was interested in one, it would have been Molly I would have had to learn from and we probably would have ended up hexing each other. I really enjoyed listening to Mr Bay this morning; again, when would I have had the time for that before? Do you know how refreshing it is not to have to live to a set schedule?" she asked excitedly.
"Not really," Severus said in amusement. "I compensate by living in such a manner that my set schedule may change at any moment though."
"I can well imagine; babies being born in the middle of the night and that sort of thing?" she teased.
"Not so many babies; I only handle the pre-natal care and when it's time for the actual birth they know to go to the hospital in Hastings. I have actually only delivered one baby so far and that was because the labour progressed much faster than one would expect. I barely made it to the front room of the house before the baby almost flew at me," he said with a chuckle.
"So you didn't really have to do too much?"
"Thank God—it was only my second week on the job!"
Hermione burst into laughter. "Initiation by fire?"
"And how. It was Jackie Doonan, the butcher's wife. Patrick didn't even have a chance to call me; he wrenched open the front door and yelled at a passer-by to get me quickly and I ran down the street with Barbara and Alana on my heels. Alana watched Tommy in the other room and Barbara assisted me for the two minutes it took for Jackie to push Ryan out. We were back in the office within thirty minutes."
"Oh! I remember Mum telling me about that at the time! I didn't know it was Jackie though. She has been so wonderful to me since we met. I've had tea at her house a couple of times and we all met for lunch at Maria's yesterday," Hermione said.
"I told you this village would be a balm for your soul," Severus said.
"It really is," Hermione said passionately. "I can see myself living here very happily for a long time."
They continued to chat about the people Hermione had met and Severus shared a few humourous anecdotes about the village's inhabitants. She had already heard some of them from her parents but the way Severus told the stories had tears of laughter falling down her cheeks. Before they knew it, it was closing time. Hermione assisted Severus in cleaning up for the night, the two of them checking their surroundings very carefully before liberally applying various charms to do the job for them. After locking all the security grilles in place, Severus offered his arm to Hermione to escort her home.
Just like the previous week, their conversation was lively all the way through the village and up the lane to Hermione's house. This time, though, they lingered at the gate. Severus took the hand that was resting in the crook of his elbow and held the fingers loosely. Butterflies began to flutter in Hermione's stomach at his soft touch; butterflies that exploded when he lifted her hand to his mouth and placed a lingering kiss on her knuckles.
He lowered her hand but did not let it go. He began to run his thumb gently over her fingers, keeping the butterflies well and truly alive in the pit of Hermione's stomach. "Would you like to have dinner with me?" he asked quietly. Hermione nodded, not quite trusting her voice. "I know we will likely see each other several times beforehand, but I would very much like to take you to one of my favourite restaurants in Hastings on Saturday night."
"I would love it," Hermione said softly, her eyes shining.
"I shall make the arrangements then." He lifted her hand again but turned it, placing a gentle kiss on the inside of her wrist. Hermione barely held in the whimper that threatened to escape her lips. Smirking slightly, as though he knew the effect he was having on her, Severus gave her fingers a final squeeze before opening the gate for her. He stood there, waiting until she got inside before striding off to his own house further down the lane.
In turn, Hermione had rushed to the dining room window, which offered an unimpeded view down the lane to Severus' spacious cottage, watching until a light shone through one of the downstairs windows. She sighed dramatically and clasped her hand, the one he had kissed, above her heart. Were things moving too fast? She did not think so. All of a sudden, Hermione realised that this would actually be one of the very few dates she had ever gone on. Ron was not one for romantic evenings out, much preferring the social dynamic of a large group and before him she had only had two dates—one of which she would much rather forget. Her parents having long retired for the evening, Hermione moved about the bottom floor, turning off the lights and ensuring the doors were locked.
As she walked up the stairs she mentally reviewed the clothes purchases she had made on the weekend, choosing what she would wear on her date. That led her to thoughts of the scar that adorned her arm. Severus had been incensed to see it there and it warmed her heart to think of him going to the trouble of brewing a potion for her to try and get rid of it. She did not know how successful he would be; a part of her believed the healers' opinions that as a curse scar she would be stuck with it forever. But if anyone could come up with a solution, it would be Doctor Severus Snape.
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Thank you for your patience in waiting for this update. Please leave a review if you would like to.
Happy New Year!
P.S. The vanilla in the fried rice is a realistic situation—it is based on something I once did myself :)