Chapter Nine - Fishin'

"I have some errands to run today," she said. "Would it be too much to ask for you to accompany me?" Hermione asked Sunday morning, dropping in on him unexpectedly.

Well, it should have been unexpected when she tore open the front of the tent flap, but in all honesty, Severus was prepared for her arrival. An odd expectation had settled over his shoulders once he'd discovered her routine. It was simple and orderly and he liked it, too, but the tent he could do without.

As Severus was already dressed and awaiting her arrival, he gestured for her to go ahead and he followed her Apparition minutes later into Hogsmeade.

They spent part of the morning shopping in Hogsmeade. It seemed like Hermione required a few things from each shop; fortunately she didn't linger too much in any one place. Given what Hermione had mentioned regarding Miss Vane the day before, Severus browsed without paying attention to his companion. She browsed quickly, selecting the items she wanted without dawdling. For that, Severus was eminently thankful; he was not a fan of shopping either. Just before his tolerance for shopping was reached, Hermione turned to him looking a bit harried by her errands.

"I think that's everything. You want to go?"

Severus nodded.

"I'll side-along Apparate us," she offered, taking his arm. Before he could protest, they were sucked along the narrow tube that bent space and time. With a disgustingly loud crack, they reappeared in a small brick hut. Hermione wobbled again and clutched his arm.

"Your side-along hasn't improved." Severus growled. He thought he might sick up as well.

"Just give me a second to re-orient myself," she whispered to him as her head spun.

"Where are we?" he demanded.

"Home." Hermione took a few deep breaths of albeit dusty air and felt immeasurably better. Cramped and crowded, Severus attempted to stand fully before his head met a wooden beam.

"Sorry about that, Mum doesn't like us Apparating in the house; she thinks it's poor manners," she explained.

They stepped out and dusted off in a small fenced garden behind a brick row house. Severus only had a moment to absorb his new surroundings before a woman of short stature and bearing a remarkable likeness to his wife came down from the stoop. He took stock of her rolled up sleeves and gardener's tan, and she didn't bother to hide her appraisal of his person either. Hermione nervously thrust forward the bouquet of jonquils they'd picked up. "Hi, Mum."

"Hello, dearest. My, aren't these grand? Best to put them in water."

After giving Severus one more keen look, she turned towards the back door and fiddled with the latch. The door did not give. She put her shoulder into it.

"Oh, this old thing's warped. Just give me a minute to jimmy it. Your father was supposed to take care of it ages ago – fat lot of good my nagging has done."

"If only you could find a witch," Severus said drily. "Someone who knows magic and can repair it with a few words."

She stopped and turned on him, her lips pursed disdainfully.

"We don't approve of magic around here. It makes you weak. What kind of a person would you be if all you had to do was say a few words and get everything you ever wanted?" She arched her eyebrow in challenge. "Slovenly. Weak and feckless. No. No, thank you. We'll manage on our own. Hard work makes true prosperity – not your silly wand-waving. Now, Hermione, have some manners, sweetheart. Introduce this man you've brought here."

Hermione blushed.

"Severus Snape," he said smoothly, extending his hand.

"The Potions master?" she asked.

"The very one." How much had his wife said about him?

"I suppose then you're all right," she responded, shaking hands. "Bonnie Granger. I apologize for the feckless comment. Our daughter always spoke highly of you. But I'll warn you now; I haven't been much impressed with the wizards I've met. Speaking of – Ronald isn't joining us today, then?"

"No, Mum."

"Thank heavens. I don't have much in the larder and don't fancy it being cleared out."

Bonnie turned back to the stuck door, butting her shoulder at it for another hard budge. Severus quietly flicked a spell toward the sagging door frame and it clicked open for them.

"Ah then! Some water for the flowers – Hermione. And I'd best get George."

She shouted upstairs while Severus roamed the small home. It was laid out similarly to Spinner's End and had probably been built around the same time, only the Granger's home was a tad bigger and obviously well cared for and modernized. They probably thought of it as having vintage charm.

Bonnie stopped to tie up the strings of her apron as Hermione grabbed one from the hook on the wall. Just then a Muggle, who Severus presumed to be Hermione's father George, descended the stairs. As tall as Severus and quite fit, George Granger was graying and had succumbed to the temptation of being a bit frumpy in his old age. He wore a tweed sport coat over a wool jumper and when he came near, Severus detected the scent of cloves and scotch.

George offered his hand and a genial smile. "George Granger. So, you are the feared Potions master, eh? Good on you! Not every day our little girl invites someone over. What's the occasion?"

Out of the corner of his eye he spied Hermione's back straighten as she became very still. "Hermione invited me," Severus lied. He'd been Shanghai'd. And he would get even with his dear little wifey when they got back to the flat. "I've been under the weather and she thought fresh air would do me some good. We're neighbors."

That was not an untruth. As long as Severus resided in the tent out back, they were neighbors. He was not about to say a single word on the subject of marriage. As far as they were concerned, their marriage would soon be annulled by the Wizengamot – there was no need to invite family drama.

"You should have called ahead," Bonnie scolded her daughter.

"Nonsense," George interjected. "I've plenty of extra gear – it's no trouble at all."

"Gear?" Severus asked, bewildered. What had that daft witch gotten him into?

Bonnie vigorously dried her hands off with a dish towel. "Supper will be ready by the time you boys come back."

"Not if we bring supper with us," George asserted.

She rolled her eyes dramatically, in the same fashion he'd caught Hermione doing many times. "That would require you actually catching something."

George planted a kiss on her cheek. "I'll catch one," he assured her playfully. "I always catch the best looking one," he said, giving her bum a pinch.

"Go!" Bonnie swatted him with her dish towel. "Out you go – the both of you. And don't come back til you've learned some manners."

George grinned conspiratorially at Severus before clapping him about the shoulders. "C'mon, we'll get you kitted up through here."

When it became apparent they were heading out into Muggle territory, Severus shed his robe, unbuttoned the collar of his shirt, rolled back the sleeves, and told himself to act calm – be natural – do not glare at the Muggles. He knew they were going to go out and ostensibly do some 'male bonding.' He was going to attempt to bond with Hermione Granger's father. This was a rite of passage. A ritual of manhood. Severus steeled himself.

He could manage it. He was fit, and up to the task. Not that he thought he'd be asked to kill a mountain lion with his bare hands or whatnot… hopefully not. But this was uneven ground that Severus hadn't tread before. When he'd been old enough for such things with his own Da, the rift between them had been insurmountable. Then again, his Da hadn't been the sort of man George appeared to be. George handed him a long cylindrical tube with a strap to carry and they shuffled off together, foregoing the car and walking instead. The walk was good. Healthy, fresh ocean air breezed about, without calling Azkaban to memory. With the sun above and tea roses spilling over well tended fences, there was no likening the two.

When they came to the end of the drive, Severus and George veered off onto a worn path into the woods. After several minutes of following the path they heard the sounds of a strong stream. Severus pursed his lips and considered the box George carried.

So, it was fishing, then.

The knowledge did not make him feel any better. He would have preferred pistols at dawn. Severus didn't know a damn thing about fishing. He'd certainly never caught a fish. He'd never killed anything four-legged either, come to think of it. Not that fish had legs, but he was just as out of his element.

He also considered this fact. They'd have to inscribe it on his tombstone – if he got one.

Here lies Severus Snape – Rightful bastard and friend to animals.

The tubes produced rods. Severus took mental notes as George screwed them together and added reels.

"Nymphs or woolly-buggers?" George asked.

Severus was dumbfounded, but given the choice between the two, he knew which one he preferred. "Nymphs."

George grunted. "Good choice. You've never done this before – have you?"

Severus shook his head.

"Right – I'll tie your line this time, but watch closely. A man ought to be able to tie his own."

Severus fell in line with George, taking his cues from the older man as they stood on the bank of the little stream, dragging and tossing nymphs into the water. Other than the stream, it was quiet and contemplative. If there was some great mental challenge to the act of throwing a line out, Severus missed it, but he liked the repetition just the same. Standing there waiting for a bite was soothing. Odd, that.

Relaxed in the moment, he almost missed George turning to him.

"So, Severus," he said, breaking the silence. "How long have you been seeing my daughter?"

Severus choked, but recovered.

"We're just neighbors."

"Oh."

He thought that might end the conversation, and in truth they stood there quietly watching fish swim by, sometimes so close Severus knew if he just whipped out his wand they'd have a fine catch for dinner, but such was not meant to be the case.

"You know, she's never really invited friends over. And certainly not boys, unless you count Ronald – which I don't."

Severus hummed. He didn't count Ronald Weasley either. Not for anything.

George moved closer to Severus and lowered his voice. "Bonnie thought it was her fault, you know. You must have noticed we're a bit older. She blamed herself for Hermione's oddities – thought it was a birth defect from having children too late."

Birth defects, smoking marijuana, playing with Ouija boards as children... Muggles invented all sorts of reasons of why they produced magical offspring. How little did they know there were pure-blood families who would sacrifice blood and fortune to have children half as magically gifted as Hermione? And yet, these people thought it was their fault; as if there was something wrong with her.

"My daughter wasn't exactly accepted by the other children…" Severus watched as George stumbled in his own memories, his eyes misting over with time. "We encouraged her to ignore it, of course. We told her academics were more important than making friends or socializing – sometimes I worry that was the wrong choice, but we were trying. She was a handful. Every time she became upset – something happened. At first we thought the wiring in this old place, but no."

Severus nodded. It was a common story he'd heard many times. Even Lily who'd been popular and liked by the children in her class had felt ostracized occasionally.

"Well, when we found out she was a witch – a real one – we were relieved. I can't begin to tell you how much of a relief it was to know there wasn't anything wrong with her, she's just… different. Our special girl." George nodded to himself as if it settled the matter.

"And then when she went to that school, well… it felt like she hadn't left home at all. All of her problems followed her. From what I'm told, she didn't fit in there either."

"Hermione did have friends, Sir." Severus felt prompted to speak up on her behalf. They were mouth breathing, fuckwitted, troublesome friends, but they were also loyal to her.

George sighed. "Yes. She has a few close friends, or so we're told. Then again, she talked for two years about her best friend Matilda before we discovered Matilda didn't actually exist. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"I'm not sure that I do."

"This is kind of a big deal for us – you being here. It just doesn't happen. Hermione doesn't bring friends over to the house, and she certainly doesn't bring men over. We almost despaired of her meeting anyone. You don't have to tell me anything – you're her neighbor, and I accept that, but please, just promise me one thing –" George paused, waiting in anticipation.

"Oh?"

"Be good to my little girl."

Severus nodded. Of the promises he could make this Muggle, this one he could keep.

"I will."

George's eyes lingered on Severus a little more before his hand fished in his pocket, producing a flask.


Hermione was at the sink washing potatoes, and she swore she could feel her mother's eyes on the back of her head. Impulsively bringing Severus along with her had been a bad idea. A very, very bad idea.

"So, princess, how long have you two been seeing each other?"

"Mum! We're not dating."

"Well, I hope you're using protection."

When the afternoon began to give way to dusk, the men, only slightly toasted, called it a day. Hermione was setting the dinner table when Severus entered the house. Upon seeing her, he smiled. She hadn't noticed his arrival, and didn't realize she was being watched. He simply observed her. There was nothing special about the way she placed the silver, or smoothed out the linen table cloth, nothing extraordinary about the thick curl that had come undone from her barrette, and nothing uniquely attractive about the way she nibbled on her lower lip, but seeing her made him smile. The rush of affection towards the witch was only a mild nuisance. Severus shook himself of it.

They'd be divorced soon enough and their marriage would be no more. He'd still be a miserable ex-Death Eater, and she'd still be Hermione Granger – the wizarding world's most famous witch.

"And?" Bonnie asked, greeting her husband with a kiss. "Did you leave any trout in the stream?"

"We did, my dear. Severus and I were very charitable today. We caught dozens of fish – big ones, big enough to feast upon, but then we got to thinking about social responsibility." George sighed dramatically. "We had to throw them all back. Not that I expect a thank you from my ungrateful little girl."

"A thank you?" Hermione frowned. "For what?"

"We did our part saving the environment for the next generation."

Hermione snorted. "My father, the humanitarian. I'm sorry if I don't have a medal to present you."

"It's ok – this time I'll be altruistic and not accept reward for my good deeds. But there is supper?"

Bonnie called over her shoulder. "It'll be on the table in ten."

George gave Severus a wicked smile. "More than enough time to pop into the study for a nip."

Dinner with the Grangers was a chattering affair. They asked questions – nosey questions. No wonder as a child she always had her hand waving in the air. The parents did nothing to curb her either. No, even the most mundane and speculative conversation was fueled with constant questions and opinions, lightly punctuated with references to what was read or heard on the news. Certainly this wasn't anything like the environment he'd grown up in. Dinner in the Snape household – when they bothered to sit as a family – consisted of the rattle of dishes. Questions were met with one word answers. A strange jealousy rose in his belly – he didn't want to belong at the table – didn't want to become one of them, because he wasn't. He was a Snape, and therefore, shouldn't.

And yet somewhere between spearing a roasted potato and listening to speculation on some distant volcano, Severus got suckered in; sweetly pulled into conversation without realizing it, and it was good. Lured into the trap of a relaxing meal and good conversation, Bonnie turned on him. He really had to keep an eye out for the Grangers.

"What's it like to be a professor at Hogwarts?"

He was an ex-professor, but Severus had enough of his wits about him not to fall into that potential minefield. If the family was unaware that he'd spent the last six years rotting in Azkaban, so be it. It was likely better that way. Knowing someone had been in prison had a way of changing people's perceptions about you – not that being a Death Eater wasn't enough.

His typical short answer about teaching at Hogwarts was that it was hell. Only, he'd experienced hell before and found that he liked Hogwarts better.

"It's a demanding job," Severus said honestly. "There's no such thing as personal time, and it's not unusual to be woken up in the middle of the night to attend to one of the children. You're constantly scrutinized by the staff and students. Meticulously watched as you chew every bit of your food – a habit your daughter was fond of – yes, I was aware of your preoccupation. And despite it being absolutely draining, you can't let your guard down for a second."

Severus paused to clear his throat and take a sip of water.

"But – I'd never trade the experience for anything else. Teaching at Hogwarts is the most singularly worthwhile thing I've ever done with my life."

"From what I understand, which isn't much, the school provided our daughter with a top-notch education."

Severus raised his glass. "Hermione was an exceptional student."

Hermione blushed becomingly.

"That may be all well and good," Bonnie said pursing her lips, "but if we had to do it all over again, I wouldn't let any of you lot near my daughter."

"Mum!" Hermione exclaimed. "Please, mum, no."

"For a school to conscript its students is beyond reprehensible. All the administrators should be put behind bars for forcing children to fight."

"I beg your pardon?" Severus asked.

"When our daughter was conscripted, she was told they wouldn't even give her a concy waiver like her Grandpa Jack."

"A what?" What the hell had she told her parents? Severus looked at Hermione, who was intently studying her plate.

He thought of her as she had been then – rail thin, starved and half mad from constantly being on the run and carrying a cursed locket, her fingers always itching for her wand. He'd glimpsed her only a handful of times in the Scrying Glass while trying to track Potter's location. He never had the luck of watching them long enough to get a destination, but it was a relief just to see they were alive. Hermione Granger would never have been a conscientious objector.

"Our daughter is a pacifist. I've been taking her to Progressive Women's meet-ups since she was knee high, and they took her out of class and put her in a foxhole. Shame on you. Shame on all of you."

Severus coughed. "It didn't quite happen that way."

"Excuse me, wizard, but when a school that is supposed to protect my daughter and her classmates put wands in their hands and order them to defend the castle against invaders it sounds very much like that." Bonnie paused to make a sour face. "Your people are supposed to be the advanced society, genteel and civilized and yet what you've done is beastly. A final battle? At a school, with children warriors and a boy savior no less? Thank god I'm Muggle."

At that moment, Severus Snape decided if the opportunity ever presented itself he would like very much to introduce Mrs. Granger to Lucius Malfoy.

Severus arched his eyebrow and looked at Hermione. "Are you going to tell your parents or do I have to?"

"Severus was one of the good guys," Hermione interjected, attempting to change the subject with a false smile. "Did you know he was responsible for saving all the books in the library? When that side of the building collapsed, they said it was his extra warding that protected seven hundred years worth of manuscripts and irreplaceable documents." She weakly smiled.

"The wizard who placed the Memory Charm on us was one of the good guys, too," Bonnie retorted.

George offered Severus a sympathetic glance.

"Have you any idea what that was like?"

"I can't imagine," he replied honestly.

"You can't erase a child. A mother knows. A mother always knows." Her eyes softened. "I knew the whole time something was deeply wrong and couldn't do anything – it was agony."

"I'm sorry for your pain," Severus said gently. "There were a lot of unpleasant things that happened; it was a time of war."

"Hmmph! For the greater good? That's what we were told right before our memories were tampered with. You know what's for the greater good? Personal liberties. Freeing your poor enslaved house-elves is for the greater good. Socialism is for the greater good."

"Alright dear, that's enough," George interrupted. "Dinner was fabulous, as always, but I think it's time Severus and I had a moment aside."

A meaningful glance was exchanged between the Grangers, a sort of Muggle Legilimency that held suspended in the air before Bonnie nodded slightly and let out a sigh. Then, despite all the talk of progress and equality of the sexes, Severus and George retreated to his study at the top of the stairs while the ladies cleared the table and washed up.

"I don't get the opportunity to read many of your Daily Prophets; Hermione likes to hide them from us," George started, pulling a cut glass decanter from the back shelf of an armoire. "But if you are who I think you are - the bloke who spied undercover for Dumbledore; I'd like to share my best bourbon with you."

Severus didn't quite know how to respond.

As twilight approached, it became time for Severus and Hermione to depart. Severus was clapped heartily on the back by George and warmly invited to return, on the requirement that he tie his own line like a man and not fish the whole creek dry. Severus stood by solemnly as the Grangers enveloped Hermione in a hug that left Bonnie a bit misty eyed, and there were quiet assurances that she would return next Sunday. Severus looked away as Hermione glanced in his direction. Then they tottered off to the bricked hut, which was far too low for Severus' head.

"That went well, I should think," she said tentatively.

"Which part?" Severus asked. "The kidnapping or dinner?"

He took a moment to observe her crestfallen face with an amused smirk. He leaned into her, brushing his nose against her cheek in the enclosed space. "That's the last time you abduct me, Hermione. Otherwise, it was a lovely evening." Wrapping his arms around her smaller frame, Severus demonstrated the proper technique required for a side-along Apparition.


For her parents Granger was wishin'.

She took Snape without his permission.

For her he had lied,

(Though he'd been Shanghai'd!)

Then bonded with Dad while fly fishin'.