The L Word

Hermione took a breath, trying her best to let the tension leave her shoulders as she looked out over the sea of students before her. Breakfast in the Great Hall at Hogwarts was always a raucous affair but the first day back after the Christmas break dawned several decibels louder than any other. The staff had arrived the day before, the students soon following in the evening, and Hermione had longed for the solitude of the castle when it had been vacant as the sheer volume of people felt like a great weight upon her shoulders.

Her only solace came from the letters Severus sent her through the floo, time too short for them to see one another but they wrote all the same. Her confidence was higher than it had been though, her lessons plans prepared and her classroom ready to receive her students. She had busied herself finishing the potions for the hospital wing that Severus had not had a chance to begin, those he had made already in store and Hermione had made sure that the headmistress was aware of whose work they had been.

She had gone to bed that night with his letters tucked under her pillow and the old school scarf he had given her held to her like a child's blanket. When she had risen she had dressed as smartly as she could, completing her outfit by pulling on the deep indigo teaching robes that Severus' had sent her for Christmas. They settled warmly around her and she allowed herself to pretend for a moment that it was his embrace that surrounded her before she had steeled her resolve and headed to the door. She had spared a brief glance to the fireplace, longing to head through it and see him before she took up her role as professor once more but she knew she didn't have time. She contented herself that she would be able to write to him in the evening and she promised herself it would be a positive note as she headed to the hall.

Hermione looked up as the food finally appeared on the table before them, the breakfast as lavish as she remembered if from her school days but she ignored it all in favour of the cup of tea in her hand, her stomach to busy with butterflies to allow much more. She was glad of the distraction when Professor Sprout chose to engage her in a conversation about the various plants she would soon be able to make available for her potions classroom, the older woman happily extolling the virtues of each one to the young Potions Mistress.

She looked up as the flurry of owls entered the room, dropping their parcels and letters on the students who reacted with a mixture of joy and despair at what their parents had sent them. She frowned as she realised that one large, tawny owl was heading directly towards the table she shared with her colleagues, a flower clutched in its talons.

She felt a blush creep onto her cheeks as it hovered above her for a moment before it dropped its burden into her waiting hands. She smiled as she looked down at the beautiful red rose she held, the thorns stripped from the stem so it could be wrapped with a slim sheet of parchment. She unwound the twine that bound it in place, feeling several eyes on her as she opened the letter, the rose still held in her fingers.

My dearest Lioness,

You are braver than you know.

I am proud of you Professor Granger and I know I can make your students proud of you too.

Counting the hours,

Severus.

She traced the fine penmanship of his name with her thumb, barely aware that she had the bloom of the rose held to her lips as she did so. It was only the nudge on her shoulder from Professor Sprout that brought her back to reality and she turned to see the indulgent smile on the older woman's face.

"From your young man?" she asked, before she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "I saw the Prophet dear."

Hermione was surprised when a laugh rather than a groan passed her lips at her words, "I think everyone saw that particular edition," she said, letting her eyes fall back to the letter, "Severus just wanted to wish me luck."

"There's more than luck in that flower, dear," said Pomona, "I think you make a very fine match even if it was unexpected. I think you will be very good for him."

"Well I know he's very good for me," said Hermione, feeling lighter at the witch's easy acceptance of her relationship, "He has been helping me prepare for this term."

"And love blossomed over the cauldrons," said Pomona, with a chuckle, "How romantic."

Hermione felt her blush deepen at her colleague's words, fear and elation setting her heart fluttering against her chest as she wondered how close they were to such an emotion. She knew it was far too soon to even be entertaining the notion of love between them but she also knew that she could not imagine her future without him in it. She looked down at the rose in her hand, unsure as to whether the language of flowers was the same in the wizarding world as it was in the muggle one but she decided to take it purely as a gesture of affection and nothing more.

She folded the letter, slipping it into the pocket of her robes before she wove a charm over the rose, fashioning it so she could fix it into her hair and keep it close for the day.

"Of course it was a bit of a shock to see you two as you were in the paper," continued the older witch, without a need for a response, "After everything came out about him, Dumbledore and the Potters, we thought he'd never move on. I'm surprised none of us realised the poor man was still utterly besotted with Lily, he was always on her heels like a pup when they were at school but then he went off with that other lot and things changed. It's nice to see he has someone in his life again. Minerva was dreadfully worried for a time. Would you like any bacon dear? You haven't had a morsel to eat this morning and you'll need your strength to keep up with this lot today."

Hermione shook her head, the knot that had been in her stomach about the coming school day now replaced by one all the heavier. She had known the story of Severus and Harry's mother, the information imparted to her first by Harry himself and then reported in nearly every wizarding publication when it had been shared with the Ministry in the effort Harry had made to clear Severus' name. She cursed herself that she had not given it any thought once her relationship with him had begun to change but she could not keep it at bay any longer, wondering how much of his heart Severus would ever be able to give to her when so much of it was taken up with the memory of Lily Potter.

She felt tears sting her eyes but she forced them away, calling to mind instead the beautifully written letters she kept like treasures and then loving embraces that he so freely gave. She reached up to her hair, letting her fingers brush against the rose that he had sent her with the intention to wish her luck, the note in her pocket telling her how much he wanted to see her.

She reached into her pocket, her fingers brushing the parchment before they settled on something thinner, drawing it out but she kept it beneath the table as she opened it. She looked down at the moving photo on the torn page of the Prophet and smiled as she saw the kiss that had revealed them to the world. Regardless of what had gone before she could not deny the brief moment before their kiss that the picture showed, the affection clear on both their faces, as they remained oblivious to everything but each other.

She folded the page once more as the bell sounded to call them to class and she returned it to her pocket, getting to her feet and heading to the door behind the teachers' table. She squared her shoulders as she followed the now familiar path to her classroom, determined not only to succeed in her teaching but also to embrace whatever future she could find with Severus as she realised that Pomona's words on the emotion that was growing between them were more accurate than she had ever realised.