Thank you for such a wonderful response to the last chapter. I hope this one holds up as well!

Chapter Seven

In the morning, Hermione knew she needed to get out of bed and get going, but was procrastinating in the warm covers.

Reflecting on the night before, she couldn't believe she actually went in and tidied her old professor's room like his mother. Was that who she was now? Just a mum who couldn't help cleaning up after people?

Oh, and the look on his face when he saw her was priceless. For a moment, she was fairly certain he would annihilate her on the spot. But the moment had quickly passed and he controlled himself.

The elf claimed that was his happy face.

"Jubilant," said Hermione to herself as she finally threw off her blankets. She had told him she would be back to actually tackle the storeroom this time, and would be in after lunch. Which meant that she needed to get herself showered and put together sometime in the near future.

Once more into the breach, she thought as she headed into the shower.

Hermione was not unfamiliar with picking out an outfit for Snape's detention so one went the old trainers, the faded denims, and a stained t-shirt that her parents gave her from Australia. Today, she didn't even bother with a robe. It would just be one more thing to wash at the end of the day.

Tying up her hair before she left this time, she headed out to meet the Professor.

Rose's red hair was easily seen as she walked through the sea of students in the halls of Hogwarts. The chatter was a din in the stone halls, and nothing could be discerned but the occasional peel of girlish laughter, much of it from Rose. The fourth year was as vivacious as her uncle George was, making many of her professors roll their eyes exclaiming, 'Another Weasley.'

Only one professor said the phrase with a sneer, and unfortunately that was where she was heading now.

"I'm so sorry you have detention, Rose," said her friend Cassidy, a fellow fourth year Hufflepuff.

Rose gave a small smile at being reminded where she was going. She didn't think that Professor Snape's detentions were worth the horror they evoked in students, but it certainly wasn't going to be a pleasant evening. One time is was cauldron scrubbing - as if she didn't do dishes the Muggle way at home, and another was grading first years' essays. At fourteen, she felt she could be trusted with them, and apparently, he agreed.

She really did like the professor, despite her dismal performance in his class. And it wasn't her fault that it was the only class she shared with Scorpius. And the fact Scorpius was wicked and brilliant, and she couldn't keep her eyes off him.

The Potions professor was trying to teach Rose. And Rose really was trying to learn. Since she started tutoring with him, her grades were turning around. She received a lot of teasing from her fellow classmates, mostly the Gryffindor. The Ravenclaws understood the need for excellence, the Hufflepuffs had nothing bad to say about the teacher and the Slytherins weren't going to disrespect their Head of House.

Today was going to be part tutoring, part detention. She deserved both. The potion she was going to make was needed by Madam Pomfrey and it was also the potion she botched in class that morning. The fluxweed she swore she chopped correctly, but apparently not, and that was the only mistake Professor Snape could tell just by looking at her result. Some days, she felt like not even bothering to try the potion in class and just saving her ingredients until her session. Her mum was already going to have to restock her Potions kit at Christmas.

The small smile remained as she told Cassidy she would be fine. She knew the work. And it wasn't like she was going to be distracted by Snape. He wasn't Scorpius. That was the only Slytherin for her.

Rose came into the room, tied up her long red hair, and started to set up her cauldron. She could hear the rumbling in the Potions storeroom and assumed her professor was gathering things up for the next period later that afternoon. Nonplussed, she began the potion. She knew he was find her if needed, chastise her like an errand daughter and then leave her be to finish the potion. It was their system and it suited them well.

Rose's head popped up as she heard a clatter and a female curse. The voice sounded familiar. Perhaps there was a classmate who was sharing her detention with her.

"For Merlin's sake! Do you have a taller ladder or am I just supposed to levitate myself? We don't all have that ability you know!"came a disembodied voice from the closet.

"…Mum?"

"Rose…bollocks!" said the voice as another cacophony was heard, followed by a loud thump.

"Mum! What're you doing here?"

"What does it look like?" asked Hermione, a bit exasperated and brushing off where she fell on her rear. "Professor Snape and I are trading a few favors."

Her daughter grew strangely quiet. "You?"

"Yes."

"And Professor Snape?"

"Well, naturally. What's so bad about that?"

"What does Dad think?" inquired Rose, on hand being raised to her hip.

Hermione huffed. "Well, he isn't happy about it, dear, but some of it I didn't tell him. You know how he is, and I couldn't just let you fail Potions."

"Mother! You're trading sex for my Potions grade?"

A loud gasp was heard. "Trading…what? Rose Marie Weasley! You watch your tongue! I would never do such a thing!"

Her daughter was clearly agitated and began to shout. She was overwhelmed with her misconception that something was happening between her married mother and her instructor. "What was I supposed to think? Here you are, in my school of all places, telling me you are trading favors for my gra-"

"Miss Weasley. Count," came a sudden, deep voice from the doorway.

"This doesn't really concern-"

"Count," repeated Professor Snape.

Rose gave him her fiercest preteen glare, but began to count. "One…two…"

"In Greek."

"Gooood…Ena…Dio…Tria…"

Hermione grabbed his robe sleeve and pulled him aside. "What are you doing?"

"I've noticed your daughter has a bit of a temper."

Slytherins and their understatements, thought Hermione.

"When she begins to become hysterical, I make her count until she has regained control. If she is near her breaking point, she will count in a foreign language."

Hermione didn't immediately respond. She knew that Snape had dealt with all manner of students over the years but she was surprised at his aptitude in controlling her daughter. Ron was never able to handle the handful that was Rose without a meltdown for one of them.

"Some children are special."

Snape looked down to her. "So most mothers believe of their children."

Hermione's eyes widen at the tone in his voice. Clearly, from the way he spoke, he didn't believe that most children were. Or perhaps, his own mother didn't believe that of her son.

She looked to him and really looked at him for the first time since she had arrived. He had always seemed like such an object, as most teachers do. Teacher's didn't go to the loo, or out to the dentist, or pick up new robes at Gladrags.

He looked a bit worn, but better than when she knew him before. Fifteen years had passed since they had really been in contact. She knew had survived Nagini's bite, and was right back in his role at Potions master by the next term. Even though he was older, without such a heavy burden laid upon him, he appeared younger. He had aged before his time, and now it was as though he took a De-Aging potion.

There was the faintest sign of gray at his temples, and she could see light red marks on his nose indicating the frequent use of reading glasses. From this vantage point, she could see that his eyes were not black as she always assumed, but the deepest chocolate brown, like her favorite rich dark cocoa.

Suddenly, his head turned to catch her looking at him. He said nothing and merely looked back up to watch Rose.

Following his eyesight, Hermione fought a grin. "You're fond of her."

"The very notion is ridiculous."

"I can hear you!" an annoyed teenage voice.

Snape went over to Rose's table and inspected her set-up. "I believe you have a potion to brew."

Nodding, Rose began to carefully shred her fluxweed. She wasn't going to screw up again and have to come back after dinner to brew.

Beside her, Snape began setting up his own cauldron.

"What are you two brewing?" inquired Hermione.

"A healing potion you no doubt remember from your own school days. Your daughter was a bit distracted this morning and her brewing failed. More is needed in the Infirmary so we are going to spend the afternoon brewing more…correctly." He added with his typically derision.

Hermione's face lit up. This was a potion she remembered clearly and one she enjoyed brewing when she was a fourth year. She hadn't stirred a cauldron in what seemed like ages and now she couldn't wait to pick up a rod. The Potions cabinet was almost completed. She could take a bit of time off.

"Can I join you?" she hopefully asked.

The infamous eyebrow rose on the dark clad man. "You wish to brew?"

"Of course I do!" said an excited Hermione.

"Of course you do. Merlin preserve us. You're just trying to not clean the cabinet."

She sighed. "The cabinet is almost completed and I can always come back tomorrow if need be."

Rose grimaced at her mum. "You want to come back?"

"Why wouldn't I?" said Hermione. "I made a promise and I'll see it though."

Snape's face had taken on a strange look for a moment, and then he frowned. "Yes, mustn't break your promise. There are cauldrons in the sink. I daresay you know where the supplies are."

Hermione wondered at his tone. Was he mad she wanted to join them? Was it a special time for him and Rose? No, that was silly. He probably didn't think she'd finish the work. After setting up her cauldron, she tugged at his sleeve again to get his attention. "I really will come back tomorrow," she whispered.

"I have no doubt you will," he said in a tired voice. "Now brew. I'll have class in here eventually."

Hermione, Snape and Rose worked through the entire afternoon. Vial after vial of the healing potion was made. So much that Rose was complaining of being an indentured servant. Reminding her that if they finished, she'd have the evening free inspired the girl to go back to her brewing with renewed vigor.

The afternoon passed mostly in a comfortable science, with a softer version of the Potions class soundtrack being played. Only a few rods stirred, a few knives chopped, and no vials were broken. The susurrus of whispers between them was heard on occasion, Hermione confirming that her techniques were correct and Rose whispering, "This is so weird."

After they were finished for the day, Hermione made plans to see him again the on the following and offered to see Rose up to her tower. It wasn't very often she got to see her children during the year and she hoped the next day she would see Hugo.

As they walked up the long stone staircase, Rose inquired, "Are you sure you weren't in detention, Mum? I bet Snape could put adults in detention."

"Professor Snape," her mum automatically and absently answered. Suddenly, she was getting an entirely different image of what detention with the professor could be like.

His dark robes would brush against her bare calf, just below the hem of her schoolgirl skirt as he walked past her. He would demand she bend over the desk to take her lashing. Long, tapered fingers ran up the back of her thigh before a hand was placed firmly against her bum. Her gasp would be covered by the loud smack that rang out in the room…

"Mum?" asked Rose. "We're at my room. I need to go now."

"Oh! Sorry, dear. It's just been a long day. I love you, and thanks for letting me spend the afternoon with you."

"No worries, Mum. I think Professor Snape enjoyed it." Rose told her before giving her mum a hug and heading into the Hufflepuff common room.

As Hermione walked out to leave, she reflected on two things.

One, that was the second time in as many days that someone commented that she had made the professor happy.

Two, she hadn't thought of her marriage that day. Not once.