Chapter Eleven

When Hermione opened her eyes, she couldn't see anything at first. The sun had set, causing darkness to fill the air, and she couldn't say how long she had been asleep. Hermione gave her eyes a few moments to adjust to the dim moonlight filtering in through the window, allowing her to make out her nearby surroundings.

Hearing soft snoring, she remembered that she had fallen asleep in Snape's arms. They were lying on his lumpy couch in the squalid living room of a house too often left desolate.

Hermione couldn't imagine a more comfortable place to be right now, for she was with him.

She reluctantly sat up and stretched, turning around to see the man behind her. The gentle moonlight was glistening off his white skin, making him appear porcelain. She brushed a stray strand of hair away from his face and studied his features for a while, taking in the enigma of the man who lay before her.

He was one complex man, this Severus Snape... and yet, however it had come to be, he had allowed her in. She felt him strangely beautiful as she gazed upon him.

Reflecting further on the mysterious man in front of her, Hermione realized that, even though he had let her inside, there was still much that remained unknown about him. As she gazed at her surroundings, she recognized that even though she had been given access to his home, it held mysteries she could not understand. Just as he did.

Ever one to ask questions, Hermione could already feel them forming in her head. What had his childhood been like growing up in this house? What had his parents been like? What had happened to them?

Spinner's End had an overwhelming feeling of neglect about it, which seemed all too convenient for its inhabitant. Since his parents were dead (that much he had told her) and he had lived at Hogwarts ten months out of the year for several years, it wasn't like his home would have been occupied much at all -nor did Snape have any reason to keep it up nicely. Smiling to herself, Hermione couldn't imagine Snape being the type to place interior decorating high on his priority list.

Coming out of her drifting thoughts, Hermione wondered what time it was. Standing up, she went to the fireplace, where a mantel clock rested above the grate. It was nine o'clock.

Sighing, she wondered if she had over-stayed her welcome. He should probably have gone to bed by now, but she couldn't just leave - not without saying goodbye. She returned to him and caressed his cheek, then leaned over and planted a kiss there. Hoping her ministrations might rouse him, Hermione waited. He stirred.

When Snape first opened his eyes, he wondered what was going on. Then, he saw her face.

"Hermione?" he asked softly.

"Yes, Severus, it's me," she replied. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay." He rubbed his eyes and sat up. "What time is it?"

"Just after nine."

He started for a second, then stopped, surprised at himself for allowing sleep to overtake him that long. "I'm sorry if I kept you here too long-" he started to say, but Hermione placed a finger on his lips to silence him.

"Don't be silly," she scolded gently.

He frowned. "I can't help it." He stopped, then continued hesitantly, "Surely you have better things to do with your time than waste it looking after me."

"Severus Snape!" Hermione truly scolded this time. "I won't hear it! What I do with my time is my prerogative. Merlin knows what would have happened to you if I hadn't come by."

He stood stiffly and walked away, crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest. With only the moonlight to see by, Hermione watched as his silhouette paced the room.

Not this again, she thought, annoyed. Why can't his pride let him simply accept help?

"Must you be so difficult?" she asked, beginning to pace as well. She stopped, directly in front of him, forcing him to look at her. She placed her hands on her hips and fixed him with a penetrating glare. "For the last time, Severus," she said with a withering sigh, "you are not a waste of my time. In fact, I quite enjoy spending time with you."

He snorted. "I still find that hard to believe, Hermione," he challenged. "Are you enjoying yourself presently?" He raised an eyebrow at her, even though she couldn't see it.

"That's an unfair question, and you know it, you obstinate man." She threw her hands up in the air and made to leave, but she was stopped by a hand grabbing her around the wrist.

He persistently pulled her to him. "You realize I was merely joking," he stated.

Hermione was about to protest but lost her words. Giving him a dumbfounded expression, she asked, "Which part?"

"The part when I asked you if you were enjoying yourself presently, you silly girl," Snape said silkily.

There was a teasing undertone to his voice, and Hermione felt a shiver run up her spine.

"You evil man," she mumbled, shaking her head. She was, however, amused.

"Indeed," he purred, pulling her to him and embracing her fully.

Hermione melted into his embrace, and they remained that way for a while. Like all good things, it had to end, though.

"It's late," Snape said with a sigh. "You should go."

Hermione knew he was right, but she longed to stay, if only a little longer. A part of her wanted to stay the night, but she knew he was a private person, and she didn't want to intrude. Besides, this was the first time she had ever been to his house, and she didn't think it would be appropriate to ask to sleep there. She wondered if he would even allow such a thing.

Probably not, Hermione thought.

Snape must have noticed something was wrong, for even though he could barely see her face, the silence was looming and awkward.

"Is something wrong?" he inquired.

"Nothing," she replied, a bit too quickly.

"You are a terrible liar, Hermione," Snape retorted, shaking his head.

"It's nothing important," she confessed, although her thoughts were more important to her than she realized. Glad he couldn't see her blushing, Hermione added, "Don't worry about it. It's nothing bad, I assure you."

Snape dropped the subject and went to the kitchen to retrieve a couple of candles. He was just about to light them when Hermione pulled out her wand, saying, "Allow me."

With a flick of the wand, the two candles were lit. She hadn't spoken a word.

"Impressive," Snape remarked wryly.

"Oh, shush, you," Hermione said. "You know I've mastered being able to say the spells in my head since sixth year."

"Yes, one of the few who managed to do so, if I recall correctly," Snape murmured.

Hermione thought of the first Defense Against the Dark Arts class that Snape had taught during her sixth year. That seemed so very long ago, although it hadn't even been quite two years. She knew Snape was thinking the same thing.

"Do you think you'd ever return to teaching?" she ventured.

"Doubtful," he sneered. "I never liked teaching, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Okay, stupid question. What would you do, then?"

"You mean, if I am free?" he asked sardonically.

"Please, Severus, just imagine for a moment - What would you do with your life?"

"Something private and quiet... where I don't have to answer to anyone but myself and where I don't have to be bothered by idiots."

Hermione nodded pensively. "I don't even know what autumn holds, let alone the future beyond that," she murmured. "I don't know if I'm to return to Hogwarts or not. It would be awfully strange to be there again after all that's happened, not to mention I'd be a year older."

Snape shrugged. Hogwarts didn't concern him any longer, but he did care about Hermione's future. "Whatever you do, I have no doubts that you will excel," he simply stated.

Hermione gave him a grateful smile. Then, stifling a yawn, Hermione gazed at the clock, realizing that nearly a half hour had passed already.

"You should go," Snape stated. "You're tired."

"I'm not that tired," she argued half-heartedly.

Casting her a disbelieving look, Snape led her to the door. "I am most gracious for your kindness, Hermione," he admitted.

"The food was nothing. Don't worry about it," she replied.

"I don't mean the food," he said.

Moving closer to him, she asked, "What did you mean?"

She knew what he had meant.

"You."

She could feel his breath tickling her lips, and giving him a searching gaze, she half-closed her eyes, inhaling with anticipation. A moment passed and nothing happened. She sighed and drooped her shoulders when she felt him back away.

"Good night, Hermione," he murmured. Then, he tentatively leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, right above the mouth.

"Good... night."

She left through the front door and placed a hand over the spot he had just graced with his tender lips.

If only he had dared kiss a little lower and to the left...