Hi all, sorry this update took so long! I caught a cold for the first time in 2 years and its kicking my butt. More is coming soon, though!
The next several dates were just as terrible as Severus expected they would be. Date number two had chatted incessantly about her thirteen kneazles. Date number three had just left a serious relationship and was obviously keen to rekindle romance with her ex beau. Date number four broke into tears no less than a dozen times through dinner, for reasons ranging from the lack of her favorite wine on the menu to the texture of the cloth napkins on the table. Date number five had been with a former student who sat, petrified, in her chair until the check came. Date number six had brought a Quick-Quotes Quill along and Severus had left without even bothering to ask her name. By then, he'd had enough.
Surprisingly, the dates did nothing to hinder his newfound closeness with Hermione. Perhaps, because they were all so awful, or maybe because neither of them truly expected the dates to go anywhere, but they bonded over the stories Severus brought home. They spent their evenings, after Atticus went to bed, lounging comfortably in the library and bemoaning his latest romantic misadventure. Hermione even shared stories of her own failed attempts at dating. They laughed, commiserated, teased, and speculated.
What could have easily become a point of contention between them, or a cause for self doubt, became a means of drawing them closer. And with every passing day, Severus became more and more certain that Hermione was the woman he wanted in his life. It wasn't because she was convenient, or because he was so starved for female affection. None of the women he'd been out with had made him smile the way Hermione did, intrigued him the way she did, amused him the way she did, or incited his lust the way she did. No, it was clear that Hermione, herself, was what he wanted.
Still, there were things that needed to be addressed before he was willing to go further than that admission. They had shared more with each other than with anyone else, but there was still much of her history that he didn't know. She trusted him, but not enough yet to admit what had happened in her marriage. How could he attempt to begin a relationship with her if she wasn't willing to open up to him about such a large portion of her life? He wanted her to want to tell him. To confide in him willingly. So many times, he could have sworn that it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him. But then she would stop and pull back, navigating their conversation into more neutral territory.
When the three months came to an end, both of them were willing and eager to maintain their situation. Despite what Severus had insisted upon at first, they decided mutually that no contract was necessary. They trusted each other, him not to fire her without cause or slash her salary, and her not to leave without notice. Her clause of being able to leave at once if Severus ever did anything to make her question Atty's comfort and happiness was long forgotten. It was desperately obvious that the little boy loved Severus, and that the reverse was true as well.
What was more, despite Severus' active participation in Atty's life, he never did anything beyond Hermione's comfort zone or without seeking her approval first. When they Apparated to town for groceries, he waited until she indicated that she was ready before he and Atticus went. If Atticus was misbehaving or needed direction, he made sure Hermione was alright with it before he corrected the boy. It was all so subtle, questions with raised brows or simple, "if I may?" and replies that were no more than an inclination of the head or a, "by all means." And yet, those small gestures meant the world to Hermione. Her son was everything to her. If Severus had begun trying to parent him, undermining Hermione's authority and threatening her bond with her son, she could have easily hated him for it. Instead, he strengthened that bond, reinforcing it every time he looked to Hermione for acquiescence. And more, he earned Hermione's trust by never overstepping his bounds or disregarding her wishes.
Hermione and Atticus kept their beds in the attic still, but other living spaces became less defined. Atty's toys became fixtures in the living room, Hermione's books migrated into the library. Their shoes and coats all jumbled together in the foyer closet. Even though Hermione at worried at first about blurring the lines of their homes and how Severus would feel about his housekeeper and her son leaving their things about, those fears proved totally unfounded. Severus himself was the one to suggest several of the changes. What was the point of her cloak being all the way up in the attic, when they always left by the front door? Why not have some of Atticus' toys on the main floor since he spent so much time down there playing? It was a relief not to worry about Severus suddenly tiring of them being constantly underfoot.
Hermione had begun to wonder if their closeness might indicate that something...more... was possible between them. She knew that she was attracted to Severus. There hadn't been any denying that. And there was no doubt at all that she liked the man. Respected him. But as they got to know each other more, as they stretched the bounds of their new situation, she realized that it wouldn't be all that strange a jump for them to move from employer and employee to partners and lovers. The idea was terrifying and titillating. How would it feel to be loved by a man like Severus Snape? Emotionally and physically?
Still, her doubts dogged her steps. No matter how much she pushed them down and wore a brave face, they were there, eating at her confidence. What would he possibly see in her? Surely what she thought was growing affection and attraction was simply passing interest on his part. Even if he one day said he cared for her, it wouldn't be long till his attention wandered. Till be began breaking his promises. And perhaps worse, was that if that happened, it would be her fault. Severus was a man of his word, so when, inevitably, he failed her, it would be more a reflection of her than of him. She would demand too much, expect too much, give too little, not be understanding enough. And then it would all fall apart. She would be left to pick up the pieces and move on.
It had taken everything inside her to survive Phillipe. She didn't think she could survive Severus.
And yet, the possibility of more, of everything, dangled before her so tantalizingly.
Four months after she'd moved in, the three of them bundled up and Apparated into the village for groceries. The snow that had fallen the night before left the countryside blanketed in glittering white. The village itself, however, had become a maze of muddy trails. Severus carried Atticus on his shoulders while Hermione subtly shrunk their various bags and packages. The little boy wrapped his hands under Severus' chin and kicked his tiny feet against Severus' chest to urge him faster. Severus growled that the child was a miscreant, and then obligingly broke into a trot. They had pulled several paces ahead of Hermione when she saw him.
It was just a flash among a sea of faces. After the initial panic, after her heart had begun to pound and the blood rushed in her ears, she told herself that it must have been a mistake. That she couldn't have seen what she thought she'd seen. After all, there were thousands of miles between them. It had been more than three years since she'd seen him last. The idea of him being in Presteinge was ludicrous, unless he was specifically looking for her. Which was even crazier. What possible reason could he have to search her out after all this time?
But hadn't she always feared he would? Wasn't that the reason she never shared more than necessary with others? The reason she kept to herself? Why she'd taken such care to cover her tracks? Because she'd always known, deep down, that he would not just let her go and move on. That some day, he would come looking for her. Her hands began to shake and she pulled her hood up over her face. As fear clawed up her throat and threatened to make her scream, her eyes darted ahead to Severus and her son. They'd been far enough ahead of her that it was possible he hadn't made the connection. Atticus looked nothing like him. Hermione's features were the only ones on the little boy's face. And she'd given him no reason to suspect.
Severus swung Atticus down from his shoulders and cradled the boy against him. Atticus patted the prominent, hooked nose lovingly and then leaned his head against Severus' chest. A strange kind of calm stole over Hermione. She was nowhere near the same woman she'd been when she fled Paris. She knew what she was protecting, what she was fighting for. And she no longer felt totally alone in the world.
If she let them, her doubts and fears would consume her. But for Atticus, she would be strong. For her son, she could face anything. Even telling Severus the truth about her past and dealing with whatever consequences that brought about.
"Hermione?" Severus stopped, one arm cradling Atticus against him, the other held out to her. She forced a smile to her face and slipped her arm through his. Whatever came would come, and she would try and finally put her past behind her.