Chapter Twenty-Two: Pete and Repeat go for Coffee…

Day ?

Severus had thought that he would wake up in a blind panic, but he felt oddly calm. Rather than running about, rushing out into his office to see if Hermione was still there or if she'd disappeared into yet another today, he simply rolled over and sighed into his pillow.

If Hermione was right, and today was indeed tomorrow, it meant that she would live.

It also meant that the status quo would return, that Severus would have to pretend that he didn't know what she looked like intoxicated, that he didn't know what she sounded like as she laughed over some foolish thing Potter or Weasley had said, that he hadn't felt her lips against his.

That he hadn't ever seen her blood staining his hands.

So as he pulled on his dressing gown and slipped his wand into the pocket, he did not know whether he wanted to open the door and see her or not.

He'd been mildly surprised last evening when Hermione had asked if she could stay with him for the whole night. "Not with you, I mean," she'd said with a deep blush. "But your office would be fine. I just don't want to wake up in the same…"

She had not been able to finish, and he had not been able to deny her. He had, however, done the ungentlemanly thing and taken her up on her suggestion of staying in his office. If she had set foot in his private quarters, he did not think he would have been able to maintain even the single shred of propriety that they'd managed to sustain. The idea of bedding her in spite of his continuous misgivings was appealing enough that he'd retreated into his rooms not long after she'd asked to stay, feeling much more in control of himself with a wall and a number of wards between them.

When he pushed the door to his quarters open, then, he was both heartened and dismayed to be greeted by an empty room. His third years' essays were in the same messy pile on his desk as usual, and his worktable held its customary empty cauldron and heap of old textbooks with scraps of paper marking various obscure recipes to use in practical examinations.

Nothing had changed.

Gut twisting, he walked across the room and rested his forehead against the door leading into the hallway.

Was it all for nothing?

Were they damned with no chance for redemption?

Severus caught himself running his hand up and down the door as he thought, circling a deep scar in the wood with a single, lazy finger.

His mind whirled.

His door should be unmarked.

Except, of course, for the most recent today, when Hermione had jammed–

Before he could wrap his head completely around this new idea, the door abruptly opened, and Severus noticed a pair of bare, pale feet as he fell forward.

He banged his chin on the stone floor, teeth clicking together painfully. "Oh, fuck," he moaned, rolling over and hating the tears that instinctively rose in his eyes.

"Oh, God, Severus," a woman's voice said. "Are you all right?"

"Clearly," he gasped, probing his chin carefully and wincing as his fingertips came away stained with blood, "I am not. Are you trying to kill me?"

Bare legs followed bare feet as Hermione crouched down, brushing hair off his forehead with a gentle touch. "I'm so sorry, Severus," she said. "I didn't know–"

"Small comfort," he said, still trying to examine his throbbing chin as best as he could. "Given that it does not change my position here on the floor a bit."

As she knelt beside him, he noticed that she was wearing the same clothes that Potter had brought to the Infirmary on the last today, after they had been dug out of the rubble of the collapsed ceiling. Poppy Pomfrey had clucked over both of them for an hour at least, poking and prodding at them until even the usually kind Hermione had made a cutting remark. Potter had been asked to bring her fresh clothing, after that, and Poppy had shooed them all out with a distinctly chilly note in her voice. The Muggle shorts that Potter had obediently fetched did not cover nearly enough of Hermione's skin for Severus's taste. "Can you stand?" she was asking him as he stared blatantly at her legs.

"Of course I can stand," he scoffed. "I hit my head, not my foot." Irritated and excited, he struggled to sit up, fighting the urge to shrug off the hand that she'd placed on his back for support.

"I didn't want to leave," she said, sounding vaguely apologetic as he slowly stood up. "But I had to use the loo something awful, and–"

"You don't have to apologize," Severus replied, waving a hand at her.

Her bare foot made no noise as she scuffed it against his doorjamb. "But I do," she said. "I wanted to be there when you woke up."

It occurred to him that they were standing in the middle of an open hallway. "Perhaps we should continue this discussion in a more private location," he said flatly.

Apparently, she had not given much thought to their surroundings either. "Oh!" she said with a start. "Erm… yes, I think that would be a good idea."

Ushering her back into his office, he closed the door and then warded it for good measure. "So you woke up here?" he asked, without preamble.

"Your armchair is surprisingly comfortable," she said with a small smile. "I was surprised that I slept as soundly as I did. And if I knew your wards, I would have gone into your quarters and gotten you up, propriety or whatever your problem is be damned."

Severus was abruptly very glad that she'd never learned how to open his quarters. "It's Friday, then?" he asked dubiously.

She laughed, happier than he'd ever heard her before, and threw her arms around his neck. "It's Friday," she said, muffled by the fabric of his robes. "We should go to breakfast, you know."

With a raised eyebrow, he regarded the top of her head. "We?"

Hermione dropped her arms but continued to grin up at him. "We can walk into the Great Hall at the same time, can't we?"

Eyebrow arching higher, he gave her a once over, frowning ever-so-slightly at her bare feet and Muggle appearance. "Aren't you going to change into your robes?"

"Are you going with me up to Gryffindor tower?" she countered, hands on her hips.

"Has your lunacy reached even more impressive heights?" he asked, face settling into a pronounced scowl.

She laughed again and he dimly realized that having this person in his classroom for the next three months or so was going to be difficult. "Then, no, Severus," she replied. "I am not going to change. To my knowledge, breakfast does not carry a dress code."

He wanted to yell at her, he really did, but as he watched the happy sparkle in her eye, he recognized that his mood was very nearly as elated as hers. "Are you coming?" he asked irritably, striding over to the office door and pushing it open.

Walking through the halls today — no, tomorrow, he thought to himself victoriously — was like a new experience. He stared at the castle walls as if he'd never seen them before. And to be honest, a few disturbingly distorting spots of nothingness caught his eye as they walked along. He did not think much about them, though, other than to notice that he was truly seeing them, and perhaps he hadn't before.

Once they reached the top of the stairs, Hermione nearly yanked his arm out of its socket as she emitted a very undignified squeal and dragged him to the closest window. "Look, Severus!" she cried, standing up on her tiptoes in an effort to reach the high sill. "The sun is shining!"

He permitted himself thirty short seconds of her hand wrapped around his, looking at the sun sparkling on the lake, swollen from all of the recent rainfall. Clearing his throat, he looked down at their joined hands.

Hermione jumped. "Sorry," she said in a distinctly unapologetic voice, releasing him. After a moment, she continued to speak. "I'm sorry, Professor," she said carefully.

And he realized for the first time that it would probably be all right. That she understood.

"I never thought I would see the sun shine again," she murmured, continuing to gaze out across the school grounds.

"I, erm, I am glad that you were wrong," Severus said in a rush. One last indulgence before they went to the Great Hall. She bumped into him every now and again as they walked, her arm nudging his gently, and he was not sure if it was intentional or not. Her bare feet padded silently on the stones and he caught himself staring at them, memorizing them.

All things considered, they were very lucky to make it all the way to the corridor leading directly to the Great Hall walking in this fashion, relatively unbothered as the few lone students that passed them did not appear to notice either of them. But they were here now, and the only reason Severus noticed that Hermione hesitated at the sight of the familiar, tall doors was because he had paused himself.

"Well…" she drawled, giving him a nervous smile.

"Quite," he replied, schooling his features into as stern an expression as he could manage. But he could not bring himself to leave it at that, not given everything that had happened. "Hermione, I–"

"Oh, Severus," a familiar voice called from across the hallway. "Good. I've been wanting to speak to you." Albus came striding though the open doors and into the corridor, a questioning eyebrow quirked at the sight of Hermione standing by Severus's side.

He had absolutely no intention of indulging the old man. "What do you want?" he asked curtly.

"There's no need to be so short, Severus," Albus replied, still glancing back and forth between the two of them with frank curiosity. "Especially on such a lovely morning." Cocking his head, he focused more intensely on Severus. "What happened to your chin?"

The stinging renewed itself as he recalled his injury, and it took a great deal of self-control to keep himself from touching it. "Nothing," he said, hoping against hope that Albus would not pursue it.

"That's a nasty little–"

"It's nothing, Albus," he interrupted, folding his arms and glaring down his nose. Now that he had been reminded of it, of course, his chin started to throb steadily, but he was not going to give Albus the satisfaction of admitting that the wound could be even the slightest bit irksome.

"Happy Friday, Headmaster, sir," Hermione piped up before Albus could persist, a mischievous glint in her eye — Severus made every effort to let it pass unacknowledged and thought himself rather successful, although he did catch himself shooting her a grateful look that he wasn't sure if she noticed.

Frowning slightly, Albus looked over at her with obvious curiosity. "Funny you should mention, Miss Granger… you see, I was awakened this morning by no less than a dozen post owls, staring at me through the windows. Apparently, my girl, today is Tuesday."

"Tuesday?" Severus asked, confused.

"Yes, I know," he replied with a friendly nod. "I was quite surprised myself. I, too, thought today was Friday. It made an odd sort of sense, given that yesterday was Thursday."

Severus said nothing — it was generally most efficient to let the headmaster continue uninterrupted when he was in a storytelling mood. Fortunately, Hermione took his lead and also remained silent, drastically minimizing the amount of inane prattling they would have to endure from Albus.

"And, then, as I sat down to my morning tea, who should I receive a Floo from but the Minister of Magic himself," he was saying, now giving Hermione an indulgent sort of smile.

Unable to stop himself, Severus sighed. "Don't pretend that he doesn't Floo you at least once a week, Albus."

"Ah, well, yes," he said, seemingly unruffled. "But more interesting was the bit of news he gave me." Pausing, he continued to smile at both of them until Severus was ready to literally scream with impatience. "Apparently…" Albus began, drawing it out.

Beside him, Severus saw Hermione's hands curl into fists as the headmaster played to his clearly unappreciative audience and utterly failed to suppress a smirk.

"Apparently," Albus said again, finally ready to make his point. "Hogwarts has been completely incommunicado for the last twelve days. The Floo network, the post, the Minister even tried to send a wizard to the gates, but nothing worked. The network was blocked, the owls came back without delivering their messages, and would you believe that the fellow from the Ministry got lost?" He chuckled lightly, possibly not noticing that both Severus and Hermione were stone-faced. "The particularly odd thing, however, is that Hogwarts was apparently the only place experiencing such a difficulty. Isn't that strange?"

As Albus fairly beamed at them, Severus began to suspect that his motives were not nearly as innocent as they'd originally seemed and that he had taken note of every one of their reactions. "Indeed," he said flatly.

"And then, young Miss Granger here wishes me a happy Friday," he said, giving her yet another grandfatherly look. "You can see why I'm particularly intrigued by this little occurrence."

"Yes, well, erm…" Hermione stuttered, hands fluttering and eyes looking anywhere but at the headmaster. "That is, you see…"

She hadn't dealt with a devious Albus nearly often enough to be able to conduct herself credibly, Severus decided. He had her inescapably trapped in his grasp, and continuing to toy with her as he was only served to illustrate the appropriateness of Gryffindor's feline mascot. "Don't be cruel, Albus," he said tiredly.

It was only because of nearly twenty years spent in close quarters with the man that Severus was able to detect the slight widening of the eyes as he transferred his attention from student to professor. "Equally suspicious, I suppose," Albus said in a neutral voice, eyes now narrow and inquisitive, "is that I find Miss Granger in your company, Severus. Especially considering the situation in which you two were involved only yesterday."

Severus just looked at him as steadily as he could manage, unwilling to admit to anything. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth and mentally shouted at her to stop. Oddly enough, she relaxed slightly, back straightening and presenting Albus with an acceptable level of calm in her eyes.

"Argus brought another interesting thing to my attention this morning as I headed in to breakfast," Albus continued, all false cheer once again. "He was cleaning up in your classroom and he noticed the most curious spots in some of the stones. In the beam that had given way and caused your accident, as well. He pointed one out to me, in fact. Most strange, these spots. Like–"

"Like holes, but not," Severus interrupted with a defeated sigh. "Like you're looking at nothing, but your mind is trying to insist that something is there, because nothing is impossible."

The eyes widened again — Severus was quite certain Hermione did not catch it. "I think, Miss Granger, that perhaps you ought to run along."

Surprising himself, Severus reached out and laid his hand on her shoulder before she could move, effectively holding her in place. "No, Albus. She's just as involved with all of this as anyone."

Hermione gulped at his words, and he fought to keep himself from saying something reassuring, releasing her shoulder but giving her a quick glance.

All pretense gone, Albus studied them with a shrewd light in his eye. "I see," he said coldly.

"But, Headmaster, we can explain," Hermione cried, sounding almost pained, biting her lip once more and shooting Severus an apologetic look.

With a sigh, Severus decided it would probably be best to take her lead and simply explain matters to Albus, albeit he wasn't planning on doing it in such a pleading tone. And some matters, obviously, were best left between himself and Hermione. "Believe it or not, Albus, I have explained everything to you. On multiple occasions. I found you, frankly, less than receptive, and I grow weary of you questioning my sanity."

The eyebrow went up. "I think, Severus, you will find me more receptive today. And, for the record, I am certain that your sanity is no more questionable than mine."

The insult was too obvious, and Severus did not bother. Before he could so much as open his mouth, however, Hermione beat him to it. "You mean he doesn't remember anything?" she exclaimed, looking positively shocked. "Not any of it? Even after everything–"

He idly wondered if allowing her to stay had been a bad idea. "Her — Miss Granger," he said smoothly, switching names fluidly in mid-word in an effort to put off that conversation with Albus as long as possible. "Do all of us a favor and be quiet."

"I think," Albus said, speaking slowly and in a voice so full of rage that Severus felt a nervous prickle in his gut, "that I have been very patient. I have dealt with the owls from the Ministry and from the parents. I am coming to terms with the fact that I have no memory of the last twelve days. I have even gotten over the perpetual lack of marmalade in the entirety of Hogwarts. But I cannot find my favorite teacup, Argus tells me that my school is riddled with impossible holes, and this morning, I saw that one of Fawkes's tail feathers has somehow been cut in half. So, rather than endure further cryptic nonsense between the two of you, I will calmly ask you one last time to tell me what the devil is going on!"

Feeling an uncharacteristic urge to fidget like a first year, Severus realized that they were going to have to be very careful in their explanations, indeed. "Albus," he said, shocked to hear a beseeching note as he spoke. "Don't be–"

"Severus, my phoenix has half of a feather," he interrupted, as close to glowering as Severus had ever seen him.

"Erm, Headmaster?" Hermione asked quietly, fingers tugging at the hem of her Muggle shorts. She sounded absolutely terrified. "Perhaps the middle of the corridor isn't the best place to… it's such a long story, you see…"

Blinking, Albus appeared to recollect himself and his surroundings. "You are correct, Miss Granger." He glanced down at her bare feet and continued to blink. "I expect to see you in my office after breakfast, then. Because we need the time to straighten out the confusion, I have canceled classes for today, so you should be able to find the time to speak with me." Looking up again, he studied the two of them with outright suspicion. "Both of you, I think. And I will tolerate no more tomfoolery from either of you." Apparently satisfied with himself, the headmaster walked briskly past them, in the opposite direction of the Great Hall.

"Did he just say 'tomfoolery?'" Hermione murmured, looking dazed.

"It's like having a conversation with someone who's just sustained a head injury," Severus said. "Blasted lemon drops. I'm always forgetting what a tricky bastard he is."

"I don't think I've ever tomfooled anyone in my entire life," she continued, sounding very nearly amused. "Is he always like that?"

Severus pushed a bit of hair that had fallen into his face out of his eye. "Like what?"

"Oh…" She shrugged. "Angry and happy at the same time."

"Possibly not in that level of extremity," he replied. "Although I cannot state that with absolute certainty. But it does seem that the prospect of a bird with a misplaced feather has him more unsettled than I would have expected."

Hermione snorted but quickly sobered. "This has to change, doesn't it?"

"I suppose the feather will grow back. Or, at least, be replaced with another at some point," he said cautiously, deliberately misunderstanding her.

"Playing the fool does not suit you," she said. "You know very well what I meant."

"I do," he said with a slight frown. "But perhaps I choose not to answer rhetorical questions."

She looked up at him with reproach in her eyes. "Does it have to be rhetorical?" she asked sadly.

Stifling a sigh, he allowed his hands to hang limply at his sides. "You know it does. You are my student. And our unique situation is… no longer applicable."

"But everything has changed…"

"And nothing has changed," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers and closing his eyes. "Even given everything that has happened, our positions at this school remain fixed."

"So you're able to just put everything to the side?" she asked, quietly angry. "You can just forget all of it?"

"No!" he unthinkingly exclaimed, eyes flying open, startled by the phrasing of her question.

Her expression shifted and her hand reached toward him, wisely falling short. "Severus," she began haltingly, clearly fumbling for words. "After we — after I… maybe we–"

"Oh, Miss Granger," a voice shrilly cried, interrupting them. "Thank Merlin!"

Spinning around, Severus fought the urge to pull out his wand and hex the owner of the voice in question.

Minerva walked briskly down the corridor and clasped a positively confounded Hermione in her arms. "The staff is speaking of nothing but what happened yesterday," she said, continuing to embrace Hermione so tightly that Severus was certain the girl was having difficulty breathing.

"Prof–" he heard her say, muffled against Minerva's robes.

"I'm so glad you're safe," she said, holding Hermione out to arm's length in order to look at her. "You could have been seriously injured. Why, you could have been killed!"

Hermione glanced over at him and began to laugh helplessly. Severus just shook his head, wondering, not for the first or the last time, what the hell he'd managed to get himself into. And, maybe more importantly, why he had no interest in getting out of it.

FINIS