Much thanks to my editor, Gwen McCormick, and to my dear friend DUJ. All mistakes are mine. Obviously, I am not JKR and am making nothing from this.
The Course of True Love
Chapter 6
Having washed his face and applied a shaving charm, Severus tied his hair back. It made his nose look even larger, but it would keep his hair out of the dirt and grim. Today, with Granger's help, he was going to clear out his things at Spinner's End. And, then, he could torch the place and dance in the flames.
He smiled at that perfectly ridiculous image. Twisting flames – maybe he'd use Fiendfyre - shooting skyward eager to embrace the twinkling stars; the Muggle firefighters and their trucks desperately and vainly trying to stop the blaze; while he and Granger danced. He chuffed a laugh. Ridiculous!
He stomped to the dresser, jerked open the drawers, snatched out a pair of Muggle jeans and T-shirt. Spinner's End was in a Muggle neighborhood, and that meant Muggle attire. Rapidly, he dressed, pulled on his dragon hide boots, and headed towards the front gates.
Five minutes later, he was simmering with anger. She's late, he thought. That ought to give you something to chew on. Even with pay, she doesn't really want to help you. "You're late," he growled when she came rushing up. "You don't have to do this if you don't want," he added. "I'm used to doing everything by myself."
She was out of breath. "Oh, Professor," she gasped for air, "I'm sorry I'm late."
He frowned. Trying to mend old habits, he held down his hurt and anger. "I had assumed you'd changed your mind about the job," he remarked stiffly.
"What?" Surprise showed plainly on her face. "Of course, I haven't changed my mind." She gazed up at him and grinned.
His gaze held hers for a long moment, and he knew she was telling the truth. Slightly mollified, he sniffed. "So," he remarked stiffly, "are you going to let me in on your little joke? What's so funny?"
Her smile grew, and he was held spellbound by its lack of malicious humor. This girl was not like the typical Gryffindors he was used to dealing with. "Your hair," she said. "You pulled it back. It looks nice."
He snorted. "It is merely to keep it out of the way. I'd suggest you do the same. Spinner's End is nothing short of a shite hole." He waited for her to secure her hair in a pony tail, and then he cleared his throat. "If you're ready? This will be a side-along apparition."
The first thing Severus noticed when they appeared in the over-grown, weed-infested yard was a subtle floral scent he'd smelled before. He was puzzled. The fragrance – English roses – was pleasant, bringing him happy memories of long ago.
Where the hell is that scent coming from? Nothing like roses has grown here in decades! But a nose like mine doesn't lie! Suddenly, it dawned on him that it was the Granger girl. It was her perfume.
Suddenly he had a vivid image of his mum, tending huge red roses and distilling their scent. "My mother grew English roses on the back wall," he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. Damn! Where did that come from?
"Hmm? What?" Hermione murmured. She looked up to face him.
"Over there." He turned away and pointed to a brown bramble vine on the back wall. Another happy memory hit him. His mum 'allowing' him to stir while she brewed her own perfume. "She used the blooms in certain potions."
Hermione glanced at the brittle canes knotted in the corner. "What happened?"
He gave a short chuff. "Father threw a bottle of rotgut at her. She ducked, and it smashed on the plant. It never grew back."
Severus unwarded and unlocked the back door, and then the stepped aside to let her enter first. He flipped a light switch, and the dingy kitchen was revealed. There was a burned spot on the counter and a large hole torn in the linoleum. Scuff marks, scratches, and gouges were everywhere, and sticky combination of grease and dirt covered most surfaces.
"I'm afraid it doesn't get much better," he warned her. "Mother gave up before I entered primary school, and I never cared." He ushered her through to the main living room.
"It must have been a show place back in the '50's," she remarked. "It's got good bones."
He looked around, really looked at the place for the first time. "Maybe," he conceded. "But there are far too many bad memories here."
"Then, I'm glad you're getting rid of it. You deserve better." She touched his arm gently.
He looked askance at her.
"I'd like to be your friend," she said simply.
The corners of Severus's mouth twitched upward. "It's-" He paused. "-a new sensation for me, having friends." Uncomfortable with the sudden turn of conversation, Snape added, "But I'm not paying you to stand around and be my friend."
"Right," Hermione laughed. "I'm here to work, so where should I begin?"
"Through here," Severus told her as they passed into the living area. He walked briskly towards the books which lined every shelf, nook, and cranny of the room. "I need you to start in here. Separate them into four sets, magical fiction and non-fiction, and Muggle fiction and non-fiction. Of course, they'll need dusting, but I trust you to handle them carefully."
"I'm in love," Hermione's awed voice said.
"Excuse me?" Severus wheeled around, spots of pink on his cheeks.
"Your library," she said, pointing around the room. "I've never known anyone who had more books than me."
He smiled. "I'm certain there are several duplicates of some books. If you're interested, then perhaps you'd-"
"I'd love them!" she squealed. "Ron says I have too many books, but I say you can never have too many."
"I would tend to agree with you," he declared. He handed her several tiny boxes. "These can be enlarged with a simple engorgio," he said. "I'll be upstairs."
Severus quietly stood at the top of the stairs. He'd spent the morning sorting through generations of Snape things. His mind had, for a while, been happily engaged in the structure of it all: identify, decide, box up, or trash it. Then the monotony of it all settled into an automatic routine barely requiring any thought process. That's when his thoughts returned to the young woman below.
She wants to be a friend, he told himself. It seems so strange that there are people who want nothing more from me than friendship. She knows my background – all of it thanks to Potter – and she doesn't judge me for it.
Severus gathered the trash. "Evanesco!" The things he wished to keep, he set to levitate and headed downstairs, the boxes trailing behind. Stopping at the top of the stairs, he smiled as he saw her sorting through stacks of books.
I'm happy I have her as my friend, he admitted himself.
She looked up at him from where she sat cross-legged on the floor. "Professor! Did you know you have a signed first edition of The Hobbit? A first edition!" Her face was smudged with dirt, and there was a cobweb in her hair, but she looked ecstatic.
"Still in love, I see," he quipped. "Yes, it was my grandmother Snape's." He surveyed the bookshelves, pleased with her progress. "Hungry?"
"Famished," she replied as she stood up and dusted off the seat of her pants.
Severus removed a package from his pocket, enlarged it, and held out a picnic basket. "The Hogwarts house elves, under the direction of Minerva's Sosty," he explained as he set the hamper on the table, "have decided that I need mothering."
"Well, do you?" Hermione asked. She began to help him set up their meal. "Yum, roast beef and cheddar." She took a bit of her sandwich.
He gave her a mock glare. "Not at all, but why should I complain of a little pampering?" His glare changed to a smirk just before he took a huge bite.
Hermione stopped mid-bite. "You're not taking advantage of –"
"Don't spout off about elf freedom when you don't understand it," he ordered.
Slowly, she set down her sandwich, her face pinkening with the beginnings of righteous anger. "Are you suggesting that the enslavement-"
Severus made a rude noise. "Imagine, Miss Granger, if you can," he directed her with a smirk as her face became redder, "how Molly Weasley would feel if her family – all of them - suddenly told her they no longer needed her. They would no longer accept her hand-made sweaters, mouth-watering meals, or sinfully tempting baked items. They had decided to 'free' her."
"Oh, but that's not the same at all!"
"How would she feel, though?"
Hermione shook her head and shrugged. "I don't know! Heartbroken, miserable, at loose ends with herself."
"Precisely," Severus said softly nodded. "And that is how it is with the elves. It's a self-imposed servitude, a selfless giving such as mothers feel for their children." Taking another bite of his sandwich, he mumbled, "Or so I'm told."
"Well," she replied, reaching again for her sandwich, "I don't know about that." She took another bite, chewed slowly, and swallowed. "It could make sense if you think about it that way." She smiled at him. "I really enjoy talking with you. You make me see things differently."
He nodded, and a tiny smile played across his mouth. "You should also know that Minerva's elf is much like her owner: pushy, nosey, and bossy. If anyone is taking advantage, it is she who is taking advantage of my weakness for roast beef."
Hermione burst out laughing. "I'm sorry," she told him, "but I can't help picturing you running from a herd of house elves chasing you about with giant bowls of chicken soup."
The front door rang. "That will be Pemberly Parkinson, my agent," he told her as he stood up. "He's was my dorm mate at Hogwarts." He paused before adding, "I assure you that he did not support the Dark Lord."
She hesitated but then smiled. "If he's your friend, that's all I need to know."
Severus paused at that. Never had anyone unconditionally accepted his judgement. Quickly, he recovered and moved to answer the door. "Parkinson, come in. I'm impressed you've come the Muggle way, and in a Muggle business suit as well."
"Well, I've just earned my Muggle estate agent's license, Severus," Pemberly Parkinson explained. "I can practice on either market. Oh, good morning." He nodded politely to Hermione.
"Miss Granger, may I present Pemberly Parkinson, an old school mate?"
"I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Parkinson," Hermione said with a smile.
"Granger?" He looked back and forth between them. "You're that Granger? One of the Golden Trio? Merlin's beard! I'm very pleased to meet you."
He shook her hand, and then he turned to Severus. "I came to get the photos for the listing. Though, if you'd take my advice and do a little bit of remodeling here and there, you could make three times the profit out of the place."
"I refuse to do one thing. I'd just as soon burn it down," Severus remarked. "By the way, Granger, do you waltz?"
"What?" Hermione asked in confusion. "Yes, but-"
Pemberly cackled with laughter. "It's an old joke. Severus always claimed that one day he would burn this house down and dance in the flames."
"I'm still tempted to do so," Severus remarked. "What's a little arson compared to some of the other things -"
"Yes," Pemberly broke in, "no need to rehash the past." He clasped Severus' shoulder. "You could still increase your profits, though, if you'd make a few improvements."
"Well, I certainly have no desire to do the work," Severus stated, "so I'm selling it as is."
"Whatever you want, Severus." Parkinson shook his head. "Though I think you're making a mistake. The old mills here will be reopened next year, and housing will skyrocket. With a lot of cleaning and a little remodeling, someone could triple their investment."
"That's a very interesting idea, Mr. Parkinson," Hermione said slowly. "I have a little money saved."
"Hold on, dear," Parkinson said, "as much as I'd like to make a quick sale, I am an ethical man. This is a major decision. Perhaps you should discuss this with someone? Your father? Your professor here?"
Her face darkened, and a tight smile pulled at her mouth. "I appreciate your concern, Mr. Parkinson," she replied with a clipped tone, "but I'm quite capable of handling my finances on my own without male approval."
Parkinson's broad face reddened. He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that-" He shot a glance at his friend, who was smirking. "Yes, well, I'll just go take some photos, shall I?"
"Pemberly's right, Miss Granger," Severus added, "you should think this thing through. Certainly, your purchasing this dump will benefit me and him, but -"
"There's no 'but' to it!" Hermione declared. "I'm going to need the money for university, and if I can double or triple my initial investment with just a bit of sweat equity, I'll do it."
"Miss Granger," he said carefully, "I understand a woman's need for financial independence, but Mr. Weasley –"
Her face hardened. "Oh, no, Professor! I'm not having that fight with Ron again." She huffed. "The goblins at Gringotts are still gossiping about it!"
"I am merely pointing out that Mr. Weasley is your fiancé." He heaved a sigh. "If he is to be an important part of your life, shouldn't you discuss this with him first?"
Hermione shook her head. "I appreciate your opinion, and ordinarily, I would agree with you." She smiled at him. "But Ron's not going to even listen about this. He refuses to believe a woman could have any idea about finance, and it's really too good of a deal to pass up," she told him. "I'll just go back to Gringotts and see about a loan."
He snorted with laughter. "After the stunt you three pulled? You're lucky the goblins allowed you to open an account. At any rate, I won't have people thinking I took advantage of you. My reputation is already blackened enough."
"Well, what do you suggest?"
He thought for a moment. "What if you purchased it directly from me? You can make small monthly payments while you're cleaning and renovating. Once complete, we will list it together. From the proceeds, you'll pay me the balance of the agreed upon price. The rest of the profit will be entirely yours."
"That's brilliant!" she cried, her eyes glowing with excitement. She held out her hand, and he promptly shook it.
"I see you've come to a decision, then?" Parkinson asked as he popped his head back in the room.
"Yes," Severus informed his friend, "we'll call you when the repairs and improvements have been made."
"Wonderful! I'll return to take more photos, then. It's an honor to have met you, Miss Granger," he said. "Severus, I'll keep in touch." He glanced proudly down at his Muggle watch. "I've got another appointment, so I've got to run. Muggle travel tends to slow one down."
Hermione waited until the door was closed. "Professor," Hermione asked with a frown, "why are you helping me this way?"
He stared at her. "Can a friend not do a favor for another?" he asked softly. "You are my friend, aren't you?"
"Oh, of course, I am," she answered gently.