36.
The next Sunday
Snape rose earlier than his usual to be groomed and dressed. Miss Granger had asked if she could join him for breakfast instead of at the later period.
He watched her walk to the table, her eyes still unfocused, her gait was unsure. He held her chair so she wouldn't fall. They dug into the meal and Miss Granger's mouth filled with gooseberry jam and ideas for his future.
She had researched current open positions for potions or DADA teachers, and notices for private tutors. Ron had checked on shopkeepers looking to retire. From Harry she received an accounting of available posts at the Ministry.
Mr. Malfoy and Harry both stated they would fund the professor in any endeavor he wished. And Mr. Malfoy added that even if he simply wanted to continue to lolly about, well, that would be alright, too.
"Mr. Malfoy said that, did he?"
"Mm-hmm," she said around her toast.
Miss Granger's comment jarred him. He hadn't considered the cost Lucius or the Potter boy were laying out on his behalf. Mr. Potter had purchased Spinner's End, not pricey, but still the boy should be spending his money with his future bride.
Lucius had the furniture padded, purchased the enchanted wall, the food, the wine, the guard and bore the intrusion into his home. There was also the emotional stress which Narcissa hinted to in regards to Draco. Wouldn't Lucius and Narcissa be affected by what he had done also?
Then there was the trouble his former students were going to in keeping him company. Changing their schedules, taking time out of their day.
I am a bother and I have been selfish, he thought.
He watched Miss Granger talking. He wondered why the sleeping draught wasn't helping her.
He interrupted, "Miss Granger, have you chosen which field to pursue?"
"Uh, yes."
"And?" He knew before she said it.
"Potions, sir."
Snape did not like that at all. He knew she was doing it out of some obligation or respect to himself, but he did not know why. Did she think she was repaying him for curing her of the Cruciatus?
The girl was bright and eager. In potions she will become stifled and bored. He thought of chastising her for the decision, but he shrugged the thought away. If she wanted to toil, that was for herself to live with... and Mr. Weasley.
"If you wish, I can draw a list of classes you should take?"
Hermione had been holding her breath expecting the professor to abuse her stupidity. Yet he was offering his help, again. She was confused by his cordiality. She didn't remark on it, but she wouldn't forget he held her chair. Or, that he didn't withdraw or comment on her repeatedly touching his arm throughout the period.
"Yes, please, sir. I would be most grateful if you don't mind." She paused and continued, "Do you think, would you mind if all of us came next Saturday?" She laid her hand on his wrist and left it there.
"What for?"
"We would all like to have dinner with you. Ginny wants to cook a full meal and it could be anything you please."
"Is it for a particular occasion?"
"Well, Neville and Luna want to announce their wedding." She noticed his blankness. "Would that be difficult for you?"
He saw the concern in her eyes and he patted her arm while saying, "No, no difficulty at all. Tell Miss Weasley that whatever she prepares will be a pleasure of mine."