Author's Note: Hello, all! So, did you know that toddler + full time job = no time to write? Even more fun news – I am due with baby girl #2 in early February! I will REALLY have no time haha...ha. Ah well. In good news, I'll be taking the full year maternity leave, so perhaps I will be able to squeeze in a little more writing time than usual. :)
Chapter 41: Oh, Fuck.
Hermione was proper brassed off and it wasn't even the end of October yet. Ron not writing often she understood. He was, well, Ron. Harry not writing often, she understood. He did try more, she noticed, but really, between training and his own relationship issues, she understood that, too. Draco was actually her most common correspondent, but even his letters of late had taken a dip and, well... she understood.
What she did not understand was being left hung out to dry. She was Head Girl—well, one of them, Headmistress McGonagall had decided for one from each 'seventh' year would be fair—and her fellow Head Girl and prefects had all deserted her for rounds.
Again.
And Severus—Professor Snape at school, she reminded herself—had been...well, she would call it distant. He really had taken points off of her for raising her hand, and then not raising it the next question within the first week. It was only two points, but still, it annoyed her.
She had been so looking forward to having a friend at school with the boys gone off. In comparison, this year was...lonely. Lonely and boring.
It was like without friends all of the magic of being at Hogwarts was gone. Hermione had taken to keeping long hours in the library, studying. She was determined to do the best that she could.
She swept her lit wand into the alcove behind the tapestry of Imglot the Lacking in Fashion Sense, but found no canoodlers. She frowned in disappointment. Taking points off of someone would have at least made her feel better.
There was a soft snort. "I know that expression. I've come up rather empty-handed myself tonight."
Hermione whirled, but her wandlight only revealed Severus, looking rather imposing with his own wand extended, albeit unlit. She dropped her stance. "Sorry, sir."
"Don't be. It wasn't my intention to startle you. Only to inquire why you were alone."
Oh.
"I've been ditched."
"Again?"
Hermione frowned and crossed her arms. She let her Lumos die, now that it was unneeded. "Have you been spying on me?"
"Of course not." Well, he thought that that may be a bit of a lie, but he didn't voice it. "It has been mentioned in the staff room that some of the prefects are being a bit...lax in their duties of late. And who has been taking up the slack."
He also didn't say that he was the one who had mentioned it—as snidely as possible of course, if only to prod Minerva into taking a bit of action.
She sighed. "Alright, yes, again, and, well..."
"How much farther have you got?"
Hermione tilted her head quizzically. "This wing and two more floors. Why?"
"I will accompany you."
Now it was her turn to snort. "Why?"
He started walking in silence, and she trotted along next to him. When he realised she was having difficulty keeping up, he slowed his pace.
"Thank you," she said a little breathlessly. "But you didn't answer my question."
"Why haven't you come to my office?" he asked instead.
"What? Why? Am I in trouble?"
He frowned. "I was under the impression that you were looking forward to seeing me. This school year, I meant."
Hermione stopped and blinked up at him. "You took points off of me!"
"I told you I would." His expression, lit by the nearest torch, was a tad confused.
She stared at him a moment longer. "Wait...are you saying that you took points off of me as a—as an inside joke?"
Now he looked discomfited and turned to keep walking.
Hermione hurried forward and grabbed his sleeve. "You did! You did do it as a joke!" She laughed and let him go. "I thought you were mad at me and didn't want to be friends any more!"
"My apologies," he murmured. "That was not my intention."
"I forgive you," she said brightly, and he was glad that she was checking another tapestry and not looking at him.
He wasn't certain what his face was doing, but it took a moment for him to school it properly into blankness.
They walked quietly for a bit longer, Hermione periodically darting off to fling open cupboard doors and shove her wand into alcoves.
"If you keep looking for rule breakers to take points off, you're going to turn into me."
She snorted. "It's one of the few things that have been making being abandoned worthwhile."
"Again, you're going to turn into me," Severus advised, ghosting silently alongside her. "You're not even particularly stealthy about it. Anyone would hear and see you coming and be gone."
"Not always," Hermione replied.
"Well, not if they had someone's tongue down their throat, perhaps," he said dryly, "but otherwise yes, you're about as stealthy as a gaggle of first years at their first feast."
He motioned for her to step closer, and tapped her shoes with his wand. "Mutus."
Hermione took a few steps, marvelling at how completely it silenced her footfalls. "Your own spell?"
He nodded.
"Now, stop shoving your wand in places. Use the torchlight to your advantage and move with the shadows. Light your wand after you catch them. They'll jump, which makes it more satisfying." They shared a small smile.
"You're going to turn me into you," she warned after she had successfully navigated a hall stealthily, much to his satisfaction. She was a quick study.
"At least you're relatively fair on point removal," he admitted. "I appreciate any chance to get my House ahead."
Hermione tilted her head. "You know, I've never seen you take points off Slytherin."
"Correct." He headed for the stairs to the next floor.
"You've never awarded them, either," she said. "At least not in any class I've been in."
"Haven't I? I'll have to remedy that."
Hermione grinned and nearly bounced up the stairs after him, careful not to step on the edge of his robes.
"Speaking of classes, how have yours been?"
"Terrible," he drawled. "There is this rather annoying student in my NEWT class who knows everything. I'm afraid I'll have to take more points off when she raises her hand without being called upon."
"As a joke, right?" she asked anxiously. He smiled into the faint light of the landing as the stairs began to swing.
She saw and made a face at him. "Well, I'm sure she'll deserve it."
"And how are your classes?" he asked. He was proud of himself, he'd kept his tone courteous enough.
"Well, they're good. Potions is probably not my favourite—" he snorted "—although I enjoy it. I love Arithmancy this year."
"What do you think of your Defense classes?"
"Oh, I see," Hermione said happily, "you hate him too and want to complain."
Severus grinned wickedly into the gloom as the stairs lurched to a stop. "I don't discuss the fallacies of staff members in the corridors."
"Do you have office hours tomorrow?" Hermione asked.
Draco shoved his apprentice robes off and nearly collapsed gratefully into the tub of warm, soothing water. When he'd decided to risk it and apply for St Mungo's instead of returning to Hogwarts, he hadn't realised just how much work it would be.
Running around, doing menial tasks, no one seemed to care what his last name was, just if he'd Scourgified all of the bedpans and chopped everything and diced everything and mixed everything and duplicated the paperwork and...Merlin, he was a mess.
Still, he thought it would be worth it, in the end.
He waved his wand to Summon a vial of salts and directed it to empty into the tub. Almost immediately the smell of eucalyptus and lavender wafted up to him and he sighed as the magical muscle-relaxing properties of the salts soaked into his bones.
Oh yes.
Much better.
Draco sighed happily. Maybe tonight he'd have the energy to work on some fashion sketches. Or maybe he'd owl Harry and see if he was free for the weekend. Draco wanted to take him shopping. Something...well, something better-fitting.
The thought made him smile.
Ron snuck a peak over Harry's shoulder and Harry shrugged him away playfully. "Do you own reports, Ron."
"Yeah, but you understand how to write them," he complained. "It's all phrased so weird, Harry. 'Witness described a figure with' instead of 'bloke says he saw a centaur with antlers'."
Harry sighed. "It's about bias. We're supposed to make everything objective."
"I'm not cut out for the Aurors, am I?" Ron asked glumly, setting down his quill and sinking into his chair at the Burrow's kitchen table.
Harry frowned. "Yeah you are, it's just a learning thing. You'll get used to the reports. You're better at the tactical lessons than I am."
"You've got more power than I do," Ron said.
"Yeah, but let's face it, I go for raw force," Harry admitted. "You used the practice room to your advantage and got a better time than I did."
"True."
"Cmon, let's finish our reports and then we'll see if George and Ginny are up for a bit of a pick-up game."
Ron brightened a bit. "Will you read mine over after?"
Harry smiled at his best friend, glad to have stopped another spiral of self-doubt so easily. "Sure."
Hermione knew by Christmas that she was spending entirely too much time with Severus. She was getting a bit curt and nasty from stress when people bothered her during her studies in the library, which of course made her lonelier, which made her spend more of her precious free time with him. Days found her in the library, nights found her patrolling with him, and at least two of his office hours per week she was in talking with him. He'd lent her a science fiction book and they'd talk about it, like their own little book club.
She had given up trying to get the Prefects to patrol with her and just gone on with him. At least that way she was guaranteed proper conversation and a partner who would actually show up.
He wasn't doing much better than she was, she had noticed. He was just as snarky, and getting more drawn and nasty as the semester went on. Probably because his first years were starting their brewing, she thought. Exploding cauldrons were never a good sign and she'd seen several firsties with singed eyebrows at dinner time.
Honestly, he was getting more and more tetchy and she ended up exploding at him on the fifth floor eastern corridor.
"Why did you even come back? You hate teaching."
Severus blinked, taken aback. "I beg your pardon?"
She scowled at him, planting her hands on her hips. "All week you have been a right bastard in class and out, except for during patrol. Everyone's complaining. You've been going downhill since the year started. So why are you back?"
"I don't know. I've never done anything else." He sighed. "I can't change who I am, Hermione."
"Pish. You've got a nasty streak, I'll give you that, but you're not awful outside of school. So what is it?" she goaded, prodding him for more information. "Bad memories?"
"Bad memories?" His scone with scathing, with a heavy dose of mockery.
"You've nearly died here twice," Hermione pointed out, "and we all know Harry can't keep a secret from Ron and me."
He coloured and strode down the hall, his cloak silently billowing out behind him.
"Oh no you don't," she muttered and chased after him.
He didn't stop until he'd reached the stairwell down and she was panting.
"I don't know what to do besides teach potions to idiots," he said finally. "I don't even know what I would do."
"What did you want to do when you were a student?" she asked, leaning against a suit of armor. He Conjured her a glass of water and she took it gratefully.
Severus was silent. What had he wanted? Money. Recognition. Power. Not to be alone. But that wasn't what she was asking. "What are you doing after graduation?"
Hermione shrugged. "Haven't decided. Part of me wants to throw myself into Arithmancy. I like it and I'm good at numbers, but haven't the foggiest of what to do with it. I could teach, but I think that, like you, I don't have the temperament."
He snorted in agreement. He'd watched her harass her friends for years. She would need a great deal of coaching and patience to teach at a Hogwarts level.
"I could run a bookshop, but I'd just end up reading all day," Hermione added with a smile. "I want to do some good in the world."
"There's always the Ministry."
She made a face. "As I said, do some good in the world."
"They've been cleaning house, not that it will do much. It would take someone with a loud voice and a penchant for not taking no for an answer," Severus told her, "to truly do some good. You could go into law."
Hermione shrugged. "So what about you, then? I can't see you running an apothecary. The first time someone dropped a vial and they left in tears would be the end of your business."
They shared a smile at that. It was true.
"Research?" he said hesitantly.
"I remember your book," she said softly. "You're brilliant. What about writing your own?"
He gave her a withering look. "And who will pay my living expenses while I rewrite the core curriculum?"
She hmm'd thoughtfully, conceding his point. "What about research and writing on the side?"
"The question then comes into who would hire me," he said, just as softly as she had earlier. "I know what and who I am, Hermione."
"So do I," she said. "Maybe we should open a shop. You sell the books and I sell the potions ingredients. Then you can write and I can study."
He laughed sharply.
"No? Well, there goes my brilliant idea." She studied him for a moment. "I'm getting maudlin. It's too close to Christmas. We should keep patrolling. Maybe taking some points will make us feel better."
Severus shook his head and followed her silently for a while. She had a point. The books needed to be redone. The methodology was outdated. And while he could live for a while without work, he certainly wasn't set up to do it for the length of time testing and measuring and writing would take, nor the publishing side of things and hoping the books would sell. If they sold at all, with his name on it. Lucius had offered to fund research for him before...as always, it was tempting. And as always, he hated the thought of a handout.
"What are you doing for the holidays?" he found himself asking as they neared the end of their rounds.
"Going home," she said brightly. "It's been years since I've had a proper Christmas with Mum and Dad. You?"
"Grading papers and lesson planning," Severus said. "The most thrilling of all Christmas traditions, I'm afraid."
They stopped a few feet from the Fat Lady.
"You could come over," Hermione said. "Mum and Dad wouldn't mind if I had a friend join us."
Friend.
"Perhaps."
Why, oh why, did that hurt?
Hermione smiled. "See you Wednesday night?"
He nodded, not trusting his voice. He watched her disappear into the passageway.
Friend.
It hurt.
Fuck, why did that hurt?
The something niggling in the back of his mind that he had been pushing away started to rear its ugly head again and he left in a flurry of black.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
