Chapter Ten

Two days later, Hermione was standing on the doorstep of what she hoped was the right house. The whole walk through the town had been an eye-opener to her. She had never expected him to live in such a rundown, depressed place as this, and as she raised her hand to knock on the door, she grimly thought how appropriate Spinner's End was for a person like Snape.

She knocked her usual three times in a row, steady and not too fast. Waiting, she heard nothing inside the house. The nearby trees were rustling gently in the midsummer breeze, and the wind was playing with her hair, but other than that, everything was still and quiet. For a moment, Hermione was ready to give up and walk away, assuming she either had the wrong address or he wasn't home. Or maybe he didn't want to be bothered.

Frowning at the prospect of the last part of her thinking, she knocked again, only louder and more persistently. If he was inside, she would make sure he answered his door. It was for his own good.

Her patience growing thin, Hermione sighed and was about to peek into the nearest window when the door creaked open a small amount. She saw a shadow of a man, his face mostly hidden by curtains of black hair. He didn't say anything.

"S- Severus?" she ventured timidly, stepping closer.

He opened the door a fraction, the light shining in a little more and illuminating his nose. She could now see his eyes staring back at her - empty and devoid of emotion.

"Severus, please... Can I come in?" She gave him a hopeful look.

She heard a sharp intake of breath, and the door was opened just wide enough to admit her. He stepped aside, allowing her passage. As soon as she was inside, he closed the door, gazing down at her, not saying a word. He wasn't glaring, at least. But he wasn't smiling, either. As Hermione gazed at his impassive face, she wasn't sure what to say, what to do.

She had a small bag with her, which she placed on the floor, before turning her attention back to the broken man in front of her. Silently, she took two steps toward him, closing the small distance between them, and placed a hand on his arm. Hesitantly, she gently brought her arms around him, embracing him. For a few seconds, he stiffened and didn't otherwise respond to her touch, but then, she felt two arms wrap themselves around her waist, clutching onto her desperately, as if to never let go. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent. She could feel him shaking, and moved by compassion, she slowly moved her hands in small circles up and down his back, comforting him.

After a while, Hermione released her hold on him and moved back just slightly, so she could see his face. She brought a hand to his cheek and caressed it. He had reluctantly unwrapped his arms and had let them fall loosely to his sides.

"Oh, Severus," she murmured, taking in his ragged state. "What has happened to you?"

"I- " he tried to speak, his voice raspy. "I thought I had lost you."

Trying not to cry, Hermione's voice was trembling when she said, "No, never. Never think that, please, Severus. It was just a silly argument."

He shook his head. There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't find the words. He had had several days to himself to think about things, mostly involving her, the woman who had chosen to love him, in spite of everything. He longed to tell her that he never wanted to lose her again, never wanted to feel the way he had felt this past week... to tell her that he loved her, even if he only had a couple weeks left to live.

But he didn't need to say anything. Every thought, every emotion, every desire was written in his eyes, and Hermione knew, without a doubt, that everything about him was genuine. She found herself embracing him once more, thanking the powers that be that she had not lost him.

Once they had both overcome their initial reactions to seeing each other again, Hermione regarded Snape intently, realizing he looked awful. He hadn't shaven for the better part of a week, and his hair was quite greasy (more so than usual) from lack of washing. It also was tangled and limp. Obviously, he had not been taking proper care of himself. Upon closer inspection, his eyes were revealed to be bloodshot and had the look of one whom had been burned at both ends for too long.

"When was the last time you ate something?" Hermione asked.

"It is irrelevant," Snape replied, setting him mouth in a firm line. He was already resorting to being disagreeable.

"Severus," Hermione said with a withering sigh. "I can tell just by looking at you that you haven't taken care of yourself. Please don't take this the wrong way, but you look a right mess. And before you get angry again, I'm only trying to help. I don't want every time I see you to result in arguing over things that aren't worth getting angry about in the first place. You need to eat something, and then you need to clean up, plain and simple. I'll have no back-talk." She beheld him with a piercing gaze that dared him to disagree.

Stunned, Snape didn't think he could protest if he wanted. He was too worn out, anyway, to bother picking a fight, and if he had learned anything from the last time they had been together, it was to hold his tongue. He complied and allowed himself to be at her mercy.

She led him into the kitchen, bringing the bag with her. He eyed it questioningly.

"You don't honestly think I'd come unprepared, do you?" she asked, smiling a little.

"You? Unprepared? Hardly likely," he replied with a smirk.

"Indeed," she said, much in the manner he would have.

She emptied the bag, revealing several gorcery items. She was appalled that the Ministry hadn't said anything about the delivery of grocery items to his home while he was forced to remain there. Did they simply want the poor man to starve to death?

She quickly prepared a simple lunch and sat down at the table with him. She watched, a bit amused, as he devoured the soup and sandwich like a rabidly hungry man, which he probably was. Once he had eaten, he was already looking better - not as much on edge.

Hermione told him she would clean up the kitchen if he agreed to clean himself up. Snape felt like a child again, being ordered by a woman who was standing in his own kitchen. He was somewhat amused by her persistent attitude, finding her very attractive when she was like that.

He soon found himself in the bathroom, showering thoroughly and washing his hair. All the rude remarks about his hair being greasy would have been amplified if people had seen the condition of his hair presently. He didn't normally allow it to get this bad.

Once clean, he shaved, disgusted at himself for allowing his condition to become this bad. He didn't like the way he looked in a beard, even the beginning of one.

Soon enough, he was dressed in fresh robes (black, of course) and had returned to the kitchen. Not only had Hermione cleaned up the mess from preparing lunch, but she had put away all the groceries and had truly cleaned the kitchen.

"Thank you," he simply said, glancing around the kitchen.

"You're welcome," she said, smiling back. "You look nice. Do you feel better?"

"Yes," he admitted. "I guess... I just didn't see much point in anything these past few days."

She went to him, and taking his hand, led him into the sitting room. Hermione was amazed by all the books. She wasn't surprised, though.

"Quite a collection you have here," she mused, taking a seat on the couch.

"Yes, well, most of them were inherited." He shrugged. "As you can plainly see, my home isn't pleasant." He sat as well, on the other side of the couch.

"It could be," she said with hope. "It just needs a little T.L.C."

He raised an inquiring eyebrow. "T.L.C.?"

"Tender, loving care." Just as you need.

A pause followed, and Hermione blushed. He was so imposing, especially when he was quiet, and she couldn't keep him from getting inside her heart. She moved closer to him, until she was sitting right next to him. Bringing an arm around her, Snape pulled her close, forgetting his worries, and simply basking in the moment. She snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

Focusing on the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest, she felt herself growing drowsy. They were both at peace.

"This - right here, right now - is all I ever needed," he whispered, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

She had fallen asleep in his arms.