Chapter 13
Severus is heading for Great Hall for dinner when he sees Granger coming down the stairs. He stops and waits for her.
"Let's go eat in the kitchens," she says.
"Minerva said staff were expected to take meals in the Great Hall with students, absent any special circumstances."
"Well, I have some special circumstances tonight," she says. "And if Minerva doesn't like it, she can f—"
"Hermione." He pulls her into an abandoned classroom. "Have you been drinking?"
"You bet your arse I've been drinking. If your husband was wanking on some French Veela's tits, you'd be drinking, too, I'll wager."
"Well," he says. "I'm not quite sure how to respond to that."
"'Yes, Hermione, let's go eat in the kitchens.' That's how. God, for a smart man you're kind of thick." She claps her hands. "Or, better yet, we can get out of this godforsaken castle entirely. Go get fish and chips, or curry, or pizza, or…what do you like?"
"I like Mexican food," he says.
"Huh," she says. "We'd probably have to go all the way to London for decent Mexican. Whatever's in Glasgow is likely to be disappointing." She sighs. "Also, I may be too drunk to Apparate to London."
"I can side-along you, if you'd allow it." He hesitates. "But are you sure you want to? Perhaps we should just go to the kitchens, get some food in you, and go to London another time?"
"Never mind," she says "You don't want to go to London with me anyway. Why would you? I'm an insufferable, pedantic, know-it-all with horrid hair and mediocre tits and all I ever do is talk, talk, talk, talk, talk until people want to run screaming to escape me." Then she bursts into tears.
Severus is completely at a loss as to how to deal with this. Is he supposed to put his arm around her? She's a married woman. Would she take it the wrong way? He certainly can't address the specifics of her rant—not all of them, anyway. She cries harder, and he frowns in consternation.
"Granger," he says, but she keeps on crying. He conjures a handkerchief and hands it to her. She wipes her eyes and nose but doesn't stop crying.
"I don't think you talk too much," he says. "In fact, I enjoy talking with you. Your hair is lovely, and your…erm, well, I'd very much like to have dinner with you in London, but—"
"Here comes the but," she says. "This is the part where you make up some plausible excuse and run for the hills. Don't bother. Just go on to dinner and can we please, please, please forget we ever had this conversation?"
"What I was about to say is that I'd very much like to go to dinner with you in London, but if we're going to eat Mexican food, we should both start out sober so we can get properly drunk on margaritas."
"You were?"
"I was," he assures her.
"But you only said that about my hair to make me stop crying."
"No, actually. I rather like your hair."
She wipes her eyes again. "Really?"
"Really," he smiles. "Now can we go to the kitchens? I'm starving."
"Do you think it was unethical?" Granger asks. "Ron thought so, and now that I'm starting to cool off, I'm thinking maybe he was right."
"Well," Severus begins, then falls silent. She's asking him whether it was unethical for her to Glamour herself as another woman to entrap her cheating husband, having no idea that he's sitting here Glamoured himself. Clearly, she would think what he's doing is unethical. If her extreme circumstances don't justify it, his own reasons, such that they are, certainly can't.
Those reasons seemed like good ones when he came up with this scheme back home, but now that he's here, he thinks perhaps Cissy is right and he really would have been better off just showing up as himself without all the cloak and dagger. Granger talks about him—not him, Ebarossa, but him, Snape—with admiration and, almost, could he say affection? She's been writing articles and giving him posthumous credit for years, when she didn't have to. She could have written those articles under her own name, with nothing more than a footnote acknowledging his work. But instead, she chose to give him the credit, even putting his name first. If he'd just shown up here as himself, it would have been fine. But now that he's started down this ridiculous path, he can't just drop the Glamour and say surprise, can he? He sighs inwardly. How old is he going to be when he finally starts making good life choices?
Hermione helps herself to more shepherd's pie and continues, apparently having forgotten that he hasn't answered her question, "For someone like me, raised in the Muggle world, Glamours and Polyjuice and anything that allows one person to impersonate another are something of an ethical minefield. I mean, don't people have the right to know who they're talking to?"
"But you're no longer in the Muggle world. The fact is, these things exist. Everyone knows it."
"So, does that mean no one should ever trust their own eyes? I mean, you never really know who you're talking to, do you? What if you were Polyjuiced or Glamoured right now?"
Severus feels a sharp pain in his stomach, and only years of Occlumency keep him from showing a reaction.
"Hypothetically," she says. "I mean, I know you're not. You wouldn't do that to me."
The knife in his gut twists.
"And even if you were the kind of wanker who would, there's no way you could have held a Glamour the length of that duel. Maybe you could with that potion you're trying to develop, but that's still only theoretical." She takes a bite and chews, looking at him thoughtfully. After she swallows, she continues, "Polyjuice would've worked during the duel, but you haven't been surreptitiously sipping on a flask like that Death Eater who passed himself off as a teacher here during my fourth year."
Severus widens his eyes in surprise, as though the idea of this is shocking.
"Right? And Snape didn't figure it out? Honestly, it was the only time he seemed less than brilliant. I mean, he's a Potions Master, right, and he doesn't cotton on? Or," she continues, as Severus works on concealing his annoyance, "maybe it was you during the duel, but now you're somebody else Glamoured or Polyjuiced as you." She looks at him, head cocked. "Really, you could be just about anyone."
This time she does appear to be waiting for him to say something, so he says, "Well, hypothetically, I suppose."
"Right. You could be George, playing an elaborate prank."
She thinks he's George Weasley, for fuck's sake? He picks up his goblet and takes a sip of wine.
"Or some Death Eater who faked his death after the war."
Severus starts coughing as the wine goes down the wrong way.
"Are you all right?" Granger asks.
He nods, and takes a sip of water.
"Or," she continues, eyes narrowing, "you could be my lying, cheating husband, trying to see if his suspicions about us are right."
He frowns. "Your husband suspects that you and I are…that there is some…indiscretion?"
"God. He suspects everyone. You. Lucius. Draco. I'm surprised he hasn't accused me of shagging Filch."
Severus laughs despite himself.
"But I'm not. Not Filch, I mean. No. I mean…you know what I mean. Not with anyone. And when you asked the other night? The answer is no."
"When I asked…? Sorry, I don't follow."
"That night we caught Hugo with Eudoxia Nott, you asked me if I did that sort of thing when I went to school here. Well, I didn't. Not once did anyone ever ravish me in an alcove behind a tapestry. Never have I ever, as they say in the drinking game. And you want to know why?"
He swallows hard, nods.
"So do I," she says. "I really do. I would absolutely love to know why I've never inspired anyone to pull me into an alcove and snog me senseless."
Severus knows, even as he does it, that this is a very bad idea, but he leans close to her anyway, and even allows a little of his own voice to come through the Glamour as he murmurs against the soft skin just below her ear, "If you were not a married woman, Granger, I would drag you into one of those alcoves and not let you out till a week from Wednesday."
"Holy fuck," she breathes, looking dazed. "If you really were Ron, I think maybe I wouldn't want a divorce after all."
Severus honestly doesn't know whether to laugh, proceed with the alcove plan, or give up this entire business before it blows up in his face and Apparate immediately back to Texas.