"Does your herb garden still exist?"

The almost carelessly uttered question was the first thing to break the silence of the three men at the breakfast table. Surprised, Hermione, standing with Ginny in her usual spot at the front of the dining room, looked over at Snape. She didn't know that Malfoy Manor also included an herb garden - it somehow didn't fit in at all with the family's stately habitus.

"Of course. Narcissa takes great care to ensure that our greenhouse always contains the rarest plants, you know that. I've never understood what it's for, since no one here understands the art of potions brewing, but it's still in pristine condition."

Lucius Malfoy's surprisingly detailed answer was merely acknowledged by Snape with a nod, and he seemed to deliberately ignore his host's expectant look. After waiting a few minutes in vain for an explanation of the question, he finally probed, "On what occasion do you ask?"

"Quite obviously for professional reasons. I'd like to have a look at the plants, maybe there's something I can use for my own supplies," Snape´replied with a hint of contempt in his voice. Hermione felt a chill run down her spine: The disagreement between the two men was still out in the open after the previous day, but in an old-fashioned silent agreement, they both seemed to accept that the breakfast table was not the place for serious discussion. The longer Hermione lived in the Malfoy house, the more she came to realise that in many ways, pureblood families still seemed stuck in the eighteenth century. The feigned politeness only made her feel the tension between Snape and Malfoy all the more keenly.

"If she's not otherwise engaged, I'd like to take your slave girl to give me a hand."

"Since when do you let someone else assemble your precious supplies?" Malfoy inquired suspiciously.

Snape remained calm. "Since it is possible to shift this into human hands. I wouldn't trust house-elves to be able to prune plants correctly, but human slaves are certainly capable of it under guidance."

Hermione could not help thinking that the interest in the herb garden was only pretended and that Snape's real intention was to be alone with her again and undisturbed. A glance at her master's face showed her that he, too, had a similar suspicion. However, since it was obviously not proper to say so, and Malfoy was furthermore in no position to criticise Snape, he merely nodded with his lips pressed together and returned his attention to his coffee.

oOoOoOo

Equipped with a basket for the plants to be picked, Hermione followed Snape along an inconspicuous but very neatly laid stone path to the far southern edge of the Malfoy estate. The onset of November showed its kinder side, sweeping only white clouds across the sky instead of freezing rain, but the wind still bit coldly into her barely covered skin. The knee-length cloak that a house elf had handed her barely protected her from the cold. Shivering, she buried her free arm in the folds of the thin piece of cloth, when suddenly the wind died. Surprised, Hermione looked up and noticed Snape shoving his wand back into his cloak.

Annoyed, she stopped and put both hands on her hips. "That's enough!"

The surprise written all over Snape's face as he stopped and turned to face her only angered her more. "Stop it! Do you really think I'm going to take your word for it that you're surprised at my confusion? You've done everything in your power to confuse me, so don't play ignorant now. And anyway - if you were really surprised, you certainly wouldn't show it so openly on your face. I'm tired of these games!"

"I wasn't aware we were playing," Snape countered, as he turned his expression back into an impenetrable mask. This made it all the more obvious to her that if he wanted to, he would be able to hide any emotion from her. So why was he showing surprise at her words?

"WHAT do you want from me?" came the indignant response to his inadequate answer.

Instead of responding immediately, Snape continued on his way with slow steps, forcing Hermione to follow him. Only then did he answer, "Have you thought about what I showed you yesterday?"

His emotionless question momentarily threw her, but she quickly regained her composure and nodded. "Of course, I did nothing else."

"And?"

"I know that everyone has their own Patronus ... With a few exceptions, but they don't apply here. So, I have to assume that it was you who helped us back in the forest."

"Go on." Severus felt the hint of anxiety rise inside. He did not for a second fear that Hermione would come to any conclusion other than the one just formulated, but far more important than that were the conclusions that followed. Striving not to show his inner tension, he stared straight ahead as he waited patiently for further words from the stubborn Gryffindor.

"That contradicts everything I know about you so far," she finally continued slowly, "and that is exactly what I concede to you: that you are full of contradictions."

The answer was unsatisfactory, but still, he would not give up. "You seriously suppose that a single person can unite in himself such extreme contradictions?"

"No, of course not. Nevertheless, other facts besides this act remain untouched. You murdered Dumbledore. You bought my body for money. While the latter does not necessarily affect which side I think you are on, the former does. Your Patronus is proof that you helped Harry and thus supported Dumbledore's cause. Your murder is proof that you support Voldemort's cause."

Inwardly, Severus sighed. How many times had he argued with Dumbledore when he was alive, had told him that he was asking too much? Not just of himself, but of everyone who would be involved later. And here was one of the brightest members of the Order of the Phoenix walking beside him, and through everything that had happened since the murder, it was too much to ask even of her to understand. How many times had he cursed the old fool in his mind, had harped on the fact that his plan had never included Harry's death, not even as a possibility. And now, more than ever, he was forced to do things he didn't want to do.

One point though stood out from everything she just said. While it was irrelevant to what he wanted from her right now, he was unable to let it go. "Am I to understand that your experience with me is not something that would put me on the side of the Dark Lord?"

"Experience? You ... I can't even express what I ...," Hermione stammered out as she visibly wrestled with her anger, but to his astonishment, she quickly subsided her anger and coldly explained, "I only said that no side affiliation can be read from this experience, as you call it. You can be a bad person even if you are on Harry's side."

"So you concede followers of the Dark Lord can be good people?" Severus inquired with genuine interest. He always thought Hermione Granger a clever student, but the degree of cool rationality she now displayed was new to him. It surprised him that she was able to think not only from her own point of view and her own situation, but to classify actions on a higher level without being guided by her visibly violent feelings. Against his will, this trait instilled respect - and hope.

"I think so," Hermione's voice finally interrupted his thoughts after a longer silence, "it depends on the motives, I think. Those who don't know any better because they were brought up that way, like Draco Malfoy, or those who side with Voldemort out of fear, can perhaps be accused of stupidity or cowardice, but nothing more. Anyone who, as an adult, has the chance to decide against him, but is still for him, I simply can't call those good people."

In the meantime, they arrived in front of the greenhouse, but instead of going inside, Snape told Hermione to sit with him on the bench that stood next to the entrance. Sheltered from the wind and surrounded by the warmth spell, they could enjoy the sun's rays, which might already be the last for this year. Snape sensed that the young woman next to him was eager to continue the conversation, but her pride seemed to keep her from once again being the first to break the silence.

He had had his reasons for choosing not her but Ginevra Weasley as his slave, but as he had done several times before, the question once again entered his mind of what it would have been like to live alone under the same roof with this alert, empathetic mind. Sure, the young Weasley was no fool either, but her hot temper too often obscured her view of the truth. Had he been able to choose then, with the knowledge he now had about the two young women, and had he actually had the freedom to choose one other than Weasley ... Snape interrupted the train of thought. Would-bes and would-haves were not wise advisors, and there were too many of them in his life for him to want to add more. He had to make the best of the choices he had made in the past.

"Interesting thoughts," he said at last, smiling inwardly at the visible wince from the woman next to him. She obviously hadn't expected an answer anymore. All the more motivated, he continued, "So that makes four categories of people: Good people and bad people on Potter's side, good people and bad people on the Dark Lord's side. Which category do I fall into?"

He enjoyed flustering Granger with his questions. He could literally read in her face that she was desperately trying to understand why he was talking to her like this - and whether he actually just asked a self-deprecating question. He quickly called himself to order, however; the matter was too serious to be amused.

"From a purely logical point of view, you could fall into any of the categories, given what I know now."

The answer made him sit up and take notice. Not only did she take his question seriously, rather than questioning his motives once again, but she furthermore didn't give the obvious answer. With a nod, he gestured for her to continue.

"There are things that can be interpreted as you being on Harry's side. Your ... Your violence to me, in turn, makes you a bad person from my perspective, but that's ... subjective. Then again, there are things that clearly indicate that you're on Voldemort's side. You did some things back at Hogwarts that would make you a good person, if I look it at more than just superficially. Or at least you gave the impression that."

With that, she stopped talking and Severus decided that for now, this was enough.

oOoOoOo

Silently, Hermione sat next to Ginny in the kitchen, eating her lunch. She knew her friend was dying to know what had happened in the greenhouse that morning, but she was still too confused herself to tell anything. After her answer to his strange question about what category of person he fell into, Snape had fallen silent. He had simply closed his eyes, folded his arms in front of his chest, and remained silent. Only when dark clouds rose at the horizon and the sun disappeared had he moved from his rigid position and taken her into the greenhouse. Except for terse instructions on which plants she should prune, he had not said a word. Even on the way back, his mouth had remained a thin line, his posture expressing cold silence.

She couldn't figure it out. She had not been rude, nor had she insulted him. She had engaged in his question-and-answer game in the hope of learning something from him, but instead of honouring her openness, he ended up being completely closed off. Had she hit a nerve with her statement that he could be both a good and a bad person? She couldn't shake the feeling that she was on the trail of an important insight, but she couldn't do anything with the few nuggets Snape threw at her.

A glance at the kitchen clock told Hermione that it was time to head to the library to continue working on cataloguing the books. She was so lost in thought that she forgot to turn back to Ginny - and so she didn't notice her friend's suspicious gaze resting on the kitchen door long after she had disappeared.