They got to McGonagall's suite in faster time than Hermione would have imagined from someone of Severus' bulk. Also, she was impressed with how silently he still moved - where he once was as soundless as the gentle swish of his cloak against the floorboards, now that there was a little bit more to him, there was now the reassuring added sounds of floorboards groaning under his weight with every step, as well as the scraping of twill fabric between his thick thighs.

Snape rapped at the door firmly, and McGonagall's frail, "just a moment," resulted in her being at the door in her braids and slippers in seconds flat. "Yes?" she said, and when she saw both of her potions professors standing in the hall, one of which was barely decent, McGonagall asked, "Where's the fire?"

"In my tongue," said Severus fiercely, and, with an apologetic look towards Hermione, he edged his way inside McGonagall's suite and closed the door.

Hermione found her ears full of muffilato all of a sudden, and feeling somewhat infantilized, she sat down and poked at her belly. In her haste, she'd picked up one of her more comfortable (read: large) robes, and it saddened her to see that the belly that had been rounding out nicely last week was, at this point, deflated significantly due to her lack of eating.

Since she was already feeling better about the situation, she went back to her suite and took some action to remedy her lack of plumpness by eating the remainder of the biscuits and drinking most of the rest of the milk. Once these were accomplished, she felt more full and plump, and generally in a better mood than she was before.

She went back to sit in the hallway, and sat on the floor, one hand on her expanding tummy, one pinching her delicious lovehandles to try and see what kinds of shapes they made when she squished them.

Finally, the muffilato ended, and Severus stepped out of the room, and McGonagall closed the door behind him.

"That didn't sound like it went well," said Hermione as she looked at Snape.

Snape shrugged. "I hope she'll come around at some point. I've given myself the duty of scrubbing the cauldrons for you tomorrow, however. By hand."

"What?" Hermione asked with a laugh, though her mind couldn't help but stutter as she realized he was prescribing his own favorite punishment to himself. "Why on earth?"

He looked at her with sadness in his eyes. "Just let me."

She couldn't exactly deny him such a self-flagellatory commitment. "Erm. Sure. If you need it, have at it."

He nodded, and as he walked her to her bedroom door, he bid her goodnight, and said, "I...I hope I haven't been too forward, Miss Granger. Social things - at least *real* social things - were never my strong suit. I'm an old spy with habits that die hard. I... I struggle when it comes to interacting with people that aren't clearly-marked enemies with goals on their backs."

She felt herself smiling as she looked at him, his face taut and chubby, his belly hanging low and heavy, his arse full and succulent. And to look at him, she knew she couldn't hold anything against him.

"You... you're forgiven," she said gently. "Don't fret over it. Please. Just... as long as you're nice. I think I like this effect that Erika has on you. I'm looking forward to meeting her someday."

"Oh, perhaps you will," he said, not sounding entirely invested in such a future, "perhaps not. Whatever she wants. She doesn't plan on coming back to England for a while. She's doing a pharmacology fellowship, you see," he added, with pride bleeding out of his voice. "At Harvard Medical School."

"She sounds great," said Hermione, feeling like she didn't give a damn. She truly didn't want to hear about Erika Holmes and how Brilliant she was.

"She is," said Snape.

He then took a deep breath, and said, "Well, I should be off to bed, as should you, I believe."

"No rush," said Hermione, feeling sorry to see him go. "Thank you for… being nice, for once."

"I…" He seemed surprised by this comment. "I could ask for some elaboration, but I think we're both a bit too tired to go on talking about this. I say we adjourn here and regroup some time during the week."

"That sounds fine," said Hermione, already feeling sleepy.

"Excellent," said Snape, and he gave a short bow. Even as portly as his body was, it was elegant.

"To later," he said, and turned on his heel to walk towards his own room.

Hermione replied, softly, "to later," and crept into her own room, thoroughly bewildered by the events of the evening.