Tentative Progress

The second day of the holidays dawned bright and clear, and Severus was determined to make the most of it. The courtyard's transformation was progressing satisfactorily: Using magic, he'd already marked out the intricate pattern of the four individual parterres and created the gravel paths that intersected them. Pomona had, as promised, donated and delivered the trays of young lavender and box-hedge plants that would form the backbone of the design and frame his herbs and potions ingredients. With everything all set, Severus cast a cushioning charm for his knees and began the arduous task of planting out his knot-garden.

An hour later, Severus wiped his brow for the umpteenth time and paused to admire his handiwork. There was an impressive stack of empty pots behind him, but there was still a long way to go. Huffing resignedly, he picked up the next small lavender bush, carefully eased it out of its pot and placed it in the earth he'd so painstakingly prepared the day before. It wasn't as boring a job as he'd expected—repetitive, certainly, but it was also strangely contemplative. Firming the soil around the base of the lavender with his hands, Severus let his mind drift.

In her study, Hermione was catching up on her private correspondence. Ignoring her owl's impatient wing-flapping, she put the parchment to one side and called for some much-needed tea. It was proving difficult to concentrate, her mind forever returning to Betty's shocking revelations about Harry's sainted mother. The vampire hadn't pulled any punches. Not bothering to conceal her contempt, she'd made a scathing attack on Lily Evans' character, which went way beyond the usual Gryffindor/Slytherin animosity. Severus, however, could do no wrong. iHe's like one of my own. But don't tell him I said that. He'll think I've gone soft./i

She'd resisted the temptation of watching him from the window, yesterday—well, she'd taken the odd ipeek/i, just to see how he was getting on. It had absolutely nothing to do with the sawn-off jeans, cut just above the knee, and the black T-shirt he was wearing to work in, of course. Picking up her mug, Hermione sighed. This was ridiculous. They'd barely spoken all week, and the tension between them was palpable. She walked slowly over to the window with her tea, making her mind up. iShe/i was the Headmistress; any bridge-building would have to be instigated by her.

Getting up to rest his knees and stretch his back a bit, Severus cast a gentle rainmaking charm on the bed he'd just planted. iOne down, three to go./i He glanced up at Hermione's office, then at the window to the side. She was standing there, smiling at him.

'Looking good,' she called out, her voice echoing around the courtyard.

Severus almost quipped, 'Me or the garden?' but stopped himself. He had been waiting for an appropriate moment to speak to Hermione, and it looked like this might be the perfect opportunity. 'Any chance of some tea? he called back.

'Of course. I'll send some down.'

'Don't bother.' Severus wiped his hands on his jeans. 'I'll come up.'

Seconds later, he was perching on Hermione's window sill. She swallowed. Flying without any means of support was unnatural, whichever way you looked at it—it gave credence to all those old vampire rumours, for one thing. But sitting there, legs dangling, black-kneed, clutching his mug, Severus looked more like some overgrown urchin—boyish, grubby, and rather endearing.

After an embarrassed silence, Severus eventually spoke. 'I feel I owe you an explanation—'

'You don't owe me anything,' Hermione replied, rather too quickly.

He sighed. 'Hermione, I dream about Lily from time to time—but I dream about all the others, too.'

'I see—'

'But...' Severus took a large gulp of tea. 'When I lay dying, it was Lily I saw, and I knew if I could get to her, I would be safe...'

'Oh, Severus.' Hermione reached out to touch his arm but pulled back. 'I had no idea...'

He shrugged, staring into his mug. 'She turned away from me; I woke up in the hospital wing. And when I dream of her now, she still pulls away... but, er... you... didn't.'

Severus finished his tea. 'I can't control my dreams, Hermione, but when I... when we... I-I wasn't thinking of her. I want you to know that.'

Frowning, Hermione worried her bottom lip. She'd needed to hear it, but she wasn't sure it changed anything. i'Besotted he was,'/i Betty had told her. i'Followed her around like a lost lamb.'/i She still had no desire to be compared with a dead woman and found lacking.

'I had a visit from Betty the Bloodthirsty, yesterday—'

'Don't tell me.' He scowled. 'She never liked Lily.'

'But she does think a great deal of you...'

'iIn my day, certain 'ladies' kept dwarves as servants to enhance their beauty. I believe having Severus in tow made the Evans girl feel superior.../i'

'Lily was my friend...,'

iSome friend./i If anyone had humiliated Harry or Ron in front of the entire school, she'd have hexed their bits off—not used it as a flirting opportunity.

'...and I was responsible, at least in part, for her death.'

'I realise it must have been very hard for you, all these years...'

Severus snorted. 'Guilt, Hermione. Nothing but. I'm not still carrying a torch for her, if that's what you're thinking.'

'I don't want you to feel you have to tell me...'

'I know.' He sighed. 'It was a long time ago. And while I deluded myself for years that she returned my feelings, she loved James Potter...'

i... She let him hold her hand in the library, got him to do her homework—but she always had her eye on the rich boys... She went after Sirius Black first.../i

'... Even after she married him, I hoped she'd come to her senses eventually and leave him—and I'd be there to pick up the pieces... But it wasn't to be.'

Hermione nodded, not really knowing what to say. Arms folded, she took a step closer to the window and looked down into the courtyard. 'Still a long way to go,' she said softly.

'Yes,' Severus replied, staring at her, 'but at least I've made a start...' He followed her gaze down to see Corvus settling onto the handle of his garden fork, cawing loudly.

She smiled brightly. 'Any news on the key?'

'No, not really, I'm afraid. According to my new... valet, Corvus just keeps repeating, 'Not yet time.'

'Is that all?'

'What do you expect? He's only a raven.'

Hermione giggled. 'Betty said you should try the Bloody Baron.'

'Already have. He wasn't terribly forthcoming, either. I think he recognised it, though.'

'Well, I suppose that's progress...' She sighed. 'You know, I think I may have been wrong about Betty.'

He smirked at her admission. 'So, you'll reinstate her?'

'I've found a compromise.' Hermione smirked back. 'Gary objected to the painting, so I'm going to commission a new home for Betty without the bloody heart. She's agreed to being re-housed—'

Severus started laughing.

'What's so funny?'

'She's been after a change of scene for years, didn't she tell you?'

If she didn't know better, Hermione would have thought she'd been the victim of some Slytherin plot.

Severus was still grinning. 'You know... the fork in the heart was an artistic embellishment— she never actually ate it.'

'But even so, she did rip it out of her first kill—while it was still beating.' Hermione grimaced. 'And it was her husband's, for Merlin's Sake!'

'Indeed.' There was no denying it. 'Did she tell you he'd been cheating on her for years? She always said, he'd torn her heart out; it seemed only fair for him to suffer the same fate.'

A thought occurred to her. 'Severus... Is Betty still... erm, undead?

His upper lip twitched slightly. 'You don't expect me to give away all of Slytherin's secrets, now, do you?'

Hermione's eyes widened.

'Well... Thank you for the tea.' Severus shifted his weight on the sill, getting ready to jump. 'I suppose I'd better be getting back to it.'

'What? Wait... I want to know about Betty...'

He paused, appearing to give her demand due consideration. 'All right. Come and help me in the lab tonight, and I'll think about it.'

'Tonight?' Her face fell. 'Sorry. I can't, not tonight.'

The garden seemed to have lost all appeal, and Severus couldn't drum up any interest in his research, either.

iGary Burbage. She was out with Gary sodding Burbage./i

Severus chucked back a large tumbler of whisky and flopped into his chair.

'Am I disturbing you?'

'Yes, but that's never stopped you before.' He pinched the bridge of his nose. 'What do you want, Minerva?'

'She likes you, you know.'

'Who does?'

'Severus...' Minerva expertly swatted a swarm of midges. 'Hermione would rather be with you—she told me.'

'How the Headmistress spends her Sunday evenings is no concern of mine.'

'Idiots—the pair of you. I don't know why I bother.'

I don't, either.' Severus scowled at the former headmistress. 'So stop interfering.'

'You could do a lot worse,' Minerva continued regardless, 'as could Hermione. I'd really hate to see her devote her whole life to this pile of stones and end up like me.'

'What makes you think I...' He shook his head. 'No, she's better off with someone her own age.'

'Och, Severus...'

'Enough, Minerva.'

'Pining for something you never had is far safer than taking a risk on a living woman, isn't it?'

'I said that's ienough!i'