CHAPTER THREE
" In th'olde dayes of the Kyng Arthour,
Of which that Britons speken greet honour,
All was this land fulfild of fayerye.
The elf-queene, with hir joly compaignye,
Daunced ful ofte in many a grene mede.
This was the olde opinion, as I rede;
I speke of manye hundred yeres ago."
Hermione closed her text of the Canterbury Tales with a small sigh. Well, they were preparing for a pilgrimage to Canterbury, of sorts. She wasn't an elf-queen and Severus Snape was far from being a jolly companion. It was going to be a long, enforced research trip. However, as long as they managed to get through the next week without killing each other, she would consider the mission a success. No, wait, if they managed to survive the week without killing each other or winding up in bed - THEN it would be a success.
She sighed again - it seemed to help - and slipped the heavy book into her briefcase. Her small suitcase was packed already and she was killing time until she had to leave for Hogwarts. And Snape.
It was somehow easier to think of him as Snape. Severus brought to mind too many images. When she thought back to the romance of her seventh year, she always began with an image of Snape on the battlefield. She could still see him fighting so bravely, his buttoned-up, stiff and meticulous appearance gone and his soul and wiry body laid bare for the world to see. She hadn't been the only student at Hogwarts to develop a crush on the Potions Master after the war ended. However, she was fortunate to have seen tiny pieces of Severus Snape prior to the battle - and had what she always called a running start on the competition. It didn't hurt that she was already sharing his bed when the cupids, love letters and flowers began to arrive from his admirers at Hogwarts and beyond.
It was odd to think of a man such as Severus Snape as her school days sweetheart, but he was. It was heady, romantic, breath taking - just like something out of one of the romance novels that teenaged Hermione had always read. It was passionate, forbidden and exciting in its secrecy. She had visualized a sweet parting when she left school, perhaps a few stolen weekends in bed over the next year or two, and then she had always expected that she would find a nice boy her own age and fall in love. She was still waiting for that to happen. And she was still waiting to fall out of love with Severus Snape. She was beginning to wonder if it was ever going to happen.
With a final sigh, she put the memories out of her mind and walked to her parent's fireplace. Tossing in some Floo powder, she was quickly transported to Dumbledore's office and immediately engrossed in a conversation with the old wizard. She finally relaxed - for the first time in 24 hours.
Snape stood in the shadows near Fawkes, stroking his feathers and speaking softly to him. Dumbledore was puttering around his office, smiling like a madman and probably plotting he and Hermione's future, not to mention their children and grandchildren, Snape thought. Not that the idea wasn't pleasant, but Snape was being realistic. After all, he had proposed once - no wait, twice - to the lovely Miss Granger. And she was still Miss Granger, so the old wizards wishes were a bit far-fetched. Thus, Snape had retreated to the shadows and the quiet bird - leaving the old wizard to accost Hermione with his enthusiasm the moment she arrived by Floo. He surreptitiously watched her talking to Dumbledore. Her eyes were sparkling with anticipation and intelligence. She had obviously overcome the fact that Dumbledore was insisting he accompany her to Canterbury - probably an easier task than it was for him. She was focused on the work, on the trials they would perform and the intellectual task at hand. She could care less if he was along for the ride. Just like always.
Watching her, he wondered once again how he could have missed it. They had been together about nine months, yet he had never suspected it was a less meaningful relationship for her than for him. Well, perhaps "less" was a harsh word. He had no doubt that she had loved him her seventh year. He had no doubt that he still held a special place in her heart as her first love. And he had no doubt that her studies and her work came first. After years of working against Voldemort and basically having his life on hold - he had different priorities. Snape wanted a home, wife and family. Or at least a home, live-in girlfriend and a prospect of a family in the not-too-distant future. He supposed that he shouldn't hold it all against her. She was still so young. Perhaps someday soon she would find a nice boy her own age and fall in love, and he could give up all hope and move on with his life. He was still waiting for that to happen with a heavy heart. And he was still waiting to fall out of love with Hermione Granger. He was beginning to wonder if it was ever going to happen.
"Well, Severus, are you ready to go?" asked Dumbledore, cheerfully. "Hermione is ready, I've taken care of your accommodations in Canterbury and -"
"Yes, yes, I'm ready," Snape replied. "The sooner we leave, the sooner we can perfect this potion and the sooner we can return."
"Really, Severus, do you have to be a prat?" sighed Hermione. "I'm dealing with this little holiday and all of its ramifications, why can't you? Besides, I can't think of anyone I'd rather have helping me solve this potion than you. You're my mentor, you taught me everything I know about potions."
Caught off-guard, Snape simply nodded and picked up her luggage. They both then clasped the portkey Dumbledore handed to them and gasped as the magic grabbed their stomachs and pulled them to Canterbury.
They landed with a jolt and Snape's softly muttered "Damn." Hermione dropped the portkey and straightened her dress before turning to Snape and adjusting his collar and brushing his hair from his eyes. He blushed and shrugged off her attentions with a whispered "thank you." Hermione smiled and nodded in the direction of the wizarding part of town and the unhappy pair set off.
Lost in their own memories and thoughts, neither noticed a pair of cold green eyes watching them from a distance. A copy of Hermione's thesis clutched in his pale hand, the man cast a spell to conceal himself and followed them. When the pair arrived at a small house on the outskirts of Canterbury's wizarding community and Snape gallantly opened the door for their entrance, the green eyes narrowed in glee. The two potions masters may manage to brew Chaucer's purity potion, but they would not live to receive the credit for it, he mused, holding back a chuckle. Nor would they be able to use it to help "the Light." Voldemort may be gone, but that was no reason for Dumbledore and his minions to take over the wizarding world, he thought angrily. And if he had his way, Chaucer's lost purity potion would stay lost for a few more generations and to hell with whoever got in his way.
" In th'olde dayes of the Kyng Arthour,
Of which that Britons speken greet honour,
All was this land fulfild of fayerye.
The elf-queene, with hir joly compaignye,
Daunced ful ofte in many a grene mede.
This was the olde opinion, as I rede;
I speke of manye hundred yeres ago."
Hermione closed her text of the Canterbury Tales with a small sigh. Well, they were preparing for a pilgrimage to Canterbury, of sorts. She wasn't an elf-queen and Severus Snape was far from being a jolly companion. It was going to be a long, enforced research trip. However, as long as they managed to get through the next week without killing each other, she would consider the mission a success. No, wait, if they managed to survive the week without killing each other or winding up in bed - THEN it would be a success.
She sighed again - it seemed to help - and slipped the heavy book into her briefcase. Her small suitcase was packed already and she was killing time until she had to leave for Hogwarts. And Snape.
It was somehow easier to think of him as Snape. Severus brought to mind too many images. When she thought back to the romance of her seventh year, she always began with an image of Snape on the battlefield. She could still see him fighting so bravely, his buttoned-up, stiff and meticulous appearance gone and his soul and wiry body laid bare for the world to see. She hadn't been the only student at Hogwarts to develop a crush on the Potions Master after the war ended. However, she was fortunate to have seen tiny pieces of Severus Snape prior to the battle - and had what she always called a running start on the competition. It didn't hurt that she was already sharing his bed when the cupids, love letters and flowers began to arrive from his admirers at Hogwarts and beyond.
It was odd to think of a man such as Severus Snape as her school days sweetheart, but he was. It was heady, romantic, breath taking - just like something out of one of the romance novels that teenaged Hermione had always read. It was passionate, forbidden and exciting in its secrecy. She had visualized a sweet parting when she left school, perhaps a few stolen weekends in bed over the next year or two, and then she had always expected that she would find a nice boy her own age and fall in love. She was still waiting for that to happen. And she was still waiting to fall out of love with Severus Snape. She was beginning to wonder if it was ever going to happen.
With a final sigh, she put the memories out of her mind and walked to her parent's fireplace. Tossing in some Floo powder, she was quickly transported to Dumbledore's office and immediately engrossed in a conversation with the old wizard. She finally relaxed - for the first time in 24 hours.
Snape stood in the shadows near Fawkes, stroking his feathers and speaking softly to him. Dumbledore was puttering around his office, smiling like a madman and probably plotting he and Hermione's future, not to mention their children and grandchildren, Snape thought. Not that the idea wasn't pleasant, but Snape was being realistic. After all, he had proposed once - no wait, twice - to the lovely Miss Granger. And she was still Miss Granger, so the old wizards wishes were a bit far-fetched. Thus, Snape had retreated to the shadows and the quiet bird - leaving the old wizard to accost Hermione with his enthusiasm the moment she arrived by Floo. He surreptitiously watched her talking to Dumbledore. Her eyes were sparkling with anticipation and intelligence. She had obviously overcome the fact that Dumbledore was insisting he accompany her to Canterbury - probably an easier task than it was for him. She was focused on the work, on the trials they would perform and the intellectual task at hand. She could care less if he was along for the ride. Just like always.
Watching her, he wondered once again how he could have missed it. They had been together about nine months, yet he had never suspected it was a less meaningful relationship for her than for him. Well, perhaps "less" was a harsh word. He had no doubt that she had loved him her seventh year. He had no doubt that he still held a special place in her heart as her first love. And he had no doubt that her studies and her work came first. After years of working against Voldemort and basically having his life on hold - he had different priorities. Snape wanted a home, wife and family. Or at least a home, live-in girlfriend and a prospect of a family in the not-too-distant future. He supposed that he shouldn't hold it all against her. She was still so young. Perhaps someday soon she would find a nice boy her own age and fall in love, and he could give up all hope and move on with his life. He was still waiting for that to happen with a heavy heart. And he was still waiting to fall out of love with Hermione Granger. He was beginning to wonder if it was ever going to happen.
"Well, Severus, are you ready to go?" asked Dumbledore, cheerfully. "Hermione is ready, I've taken care of your accommodations in Canterbury and -"
"Yes, yes, I'm ready," Snape replied. "The sooner we leave, the sooner we can perfect this potion and the sooner we can return."
"Really, Severus, do you have to be a prat?" sighed Hermione. "I'm dealing with this little holiday and all of its ramifications, why can't you? Besides, I can't think of anyone I'd rather have helping me solve this potion than you. You're my mentor, you taught me everything I know about potions."
Caught off-guard, Snape simply nodded and picked up her luggage. They both then clasped the portkey Dumbledore handed to them and gasped as the magic grabbed their stomachs and pulled them to Canterbury.
They landed with a jolt and Snape's softly muttered "Damn." Hermione dropped the portkey and straightened her dress before turning to Snape and adjusting his collar and brushing his hair from his eyes. He blushed and shrugged off her attentions with a whispered "thank you." Hermione smiled and nodded in the direction of the wizarding part of town and the unhappy pair set off.
Lost in their own memories and thoughts, neither noticed a pair of cold green eyes watching them from a distance. A copy of Hermione's thesis clutched in his pale hand, the man cast a spell to conceal himself and followed them. When the pair arrived at a small house on the outskirts of Canterbury's wizarding community and Snape gallantly opened the door for their entrance, the green eyes narrowed in glee. The two potions masters may manage to brew Chaucer's purity potion, but they would not live to receive the credit for it, he mused, holding back a chuckle. Nor would they be able to use it to help "the Light." Voldemort may be gone, but that was no reason for Dumbledore and his minions to take over the wizarding world, he thought angrily. And if he had his way, Chaucer's lost purity potion would stay lost for a few more generations and to hell with whoever got in his way.