Severus groaned as a wave of nausea that had nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with Hermione flowed through his person. Here he was, finally, faced with the object of every love, and lust, filled thought or dream for the last four years. She had found him disheveled, drunk to the gills, and floundering around on the floor. He supposed he should be thankful he hadn't been wallowing in some sort of bodily fluids, but that point was moot.


Her voice interrupted his self-punishment. "So, Severus, would you care to enlighten me as to what this little display is all about?" Her voice had changed and rang with a confidence, while a small fist was knocking, even then, on his libido, demanding it to wake up and notice her new graduation from girl to woman.


She never would have dared speak to him, speak down to him in such a fashion when she was a student. His pride finally overrode his shock and he pulled himself a bit straighter into the chair before answering. "I don't see how that concerns you, Miss Granger."


With a flick of her wand another chair appeared opposite him and soon Severus found Hermione seated opposite him. Now, he could see his sharp comment had drawn the proverbial blood. The hurt was in her eyes, so much hurt in her eyes that it seemed it couldn't have been from one, thoughtless retort. "So, we are back to Miss Granger. I suppose I am to address you as Professor Snape at the staff meetings then? Oh, and I'll be careful that there is at least one seat between us at meal times. I wouldn't want to have to be forced to carry on a conversation with you. Gods forbid you should actually be civil to someone."


Severus screwed his face up like he had just tasted something sour and pinched the bridge of his nose at the headache that was trying to take over his swimming mind. "Merlin's balls, woman, what are you blathering on about?"


"Oh, that's right. Instead of attending the staff lunch, you were down here getting yourself drunk. You missed Albus and Harry's big announcement. Harry's finally decided to write his book. He's taking a year off. Albus needed a fill-in Muggle Studies Professor and asked me to do it. I was under the assumption that I had something here to come back to, so I jumped at the chance." She lowered both her voice and her eyes here, swallowing hard before continuing on. "Perhaps I was mistaken. Nonetheless, I am here for the next year."


Severus could only nod his head. His mind and his heart were at odds with each other. One rejoicing at the prospect of being near her, seeing her daily, brushing up against her robes in the corridors, smelling her perfume as he passed by her at the head table, and just the sheer joy of knowing she was nearby. His other was screaming out that he was only going to be hurt again for at the end of a year she would be leaving again and this time it would be for good, this time she would not return.


Hermione could see the vortex playing through his dark eyes. After four years she could still read them like she could read a potions recipe. He was staring into the fireplace, refusing to look at her, even though she had brought herself down to his level and now sat with her heart open before him. If there were to be any hope that they could move past the hurt they had both felt one of them would have to take a plunge. So, she held her breath, flexed her knees and over the edge she went. "Listen, I know that a lot has happened. We have both done things we regret. Dammit, Will you look at me?" Hermione reached out with shaking fingers and tugged his whisker-covered chin toward her. Her eyes were gentle and pleading, "Please, look at me. We both did things we regret. Things that do not need to be brought out and reexamined. You and I both understand what I'm talking about, don't we?"

Once again, Severus could only nod. Her hand had slipped down to grasp one of his and Severus found himself clutching it as if it was the only thing that could save him at this point, his only link to life.


Hermione continued on, "My time away was to be a learning experience for me, perhaps for both of us. I think all I learned, maybe we learned, is how fucked up it all got when we were apart. Now, everything is all messed up and I know we just can't just jump right back into it like the hurt never happened."


Severus was studying her now, the intent face that was before him, struggling to make some sort of an argument. He found a voice from deep within, "No, we can't, Hermione."

She sighed heavily at this and for a brief moment, he thought she would cry. Instead, she shook herself slightly, as if clearing her head, and struggled on. "When I left here, what we had held so much, I don't know, promise.. possibility… Whatever it was, whatever it is, don't we owe it; don't we owe ourselves the chance to move past the hurt? Can't we at least try? Severus, I came back. I came back to you."

His hands were shaking now, trembling violently. "I don't know, Hermione. I just don't know. So much has happened."


She needed the chance with his heart, the possibility for a future, but his mind was struggling so desperately to shut her out. How could she convince him, what did she have to gamble with? Suddenly she leapt to her feet and moved to the bookshelves. "You forced me to decide our fate by the roll of the dice four years ago. Decide our fate again by the dice now. Three points, no doubling, and if I win we move past the hurt and try."

The board was now sitting on a small table between them. Severus was staring at it, gape-mouthed, trying to absorb what she was saying. He knew she was serious; he had done it to her. "All right, so be it, let fate decide again." They had to lay the ground rules out, first though, so there could be no confusion later. There was too much was riding on the game. "If I do lose this and things proceed, they can't be rushed or forced. We take things slow."


"A chance, Severus, all I want is a chance."


So began the match. As the match progressed it became obvious that Hermione was playing hard. Severus found himself concentrating more and more on the woman across the board from him and less and less on his game. Her brow was wrinkled in concentration and she had gnawed most of the nails on her right hand down to the quick.


He had missed the nights with her, sitting in this same spot, bent over this same game board. Now, he was being offered the chance to do it all over again. She was trying to pick up the pieces of their shattered dreams and try and piece their lives back together again. If she was so willing to fight, couldn't he fight as well? If she had that strength, then why didn't he? Wasn't he just as strong? Couldn't he fight just as hard for her?
His mind made up, Severus Snape sat up straight and played the worst game of backgammon of his life.


Hermione removed her last pip from the board to the match. It had been obvious for the final two games that Severus was trying to lose and Hermione was trying hard not to laugh. "Well played match, Severus," she smirked.


"I'm a bit rusty, you know. You could at least have given me a chance to get warmed up." He smiled briefly, before his dark eyes grew serious once more. Icy fingers of self-doubt started to grasp a hold of his confidence again. He suddenly was most interested in studying the label on the empty whiskey bottle still sitting on the floor near the chair, "Are you sure you really want this?"


Now, Hermione was on her knees, between him and the blasted whiskey bottle. "Yes, you foolish, foolish man. I want this. I want you. Please, believe me." And she was in his arms, her cheek pressed as tightly against his chest as she could manage. She was warm against him, then blazingly hot, and her fire burned his way into him. The icy fingers sizzled and popped and evaporated away into final nothingness. Since she showed no signs of letting go, Severus simply gave in and wrapped his arms around her and savored the moment.


After a few minutes he felt her pull away to look him straight in the eyes. "Do you believe me?" Her voice was a whisper over his face.


He was lost. "Yes." He dipped his head, intent on capturing her mouth, but she was on her feet and moving away before he met his goal.


Her smile was playful and her voice teasing. "You said you wanted to take things slow, remember? I'll see you at dinner."


He scowled at her, as was expected of him. "What makes you think I'll be at dinner?"


"You'll be at dinner, because if you're not at dinner, than you won't get to walk with me tonight by the lake."

She was halfway out the door by now. "Oh, and Severus. I might have kissed you just now, but you smell like a Gods-damned brewery. You really need to get cleaned up." And the door slammed.


"WENCH!"


The door reopened, just enough for the brown bushy head to peek through once again. "I forgot to tell you. That beard is insufferably sexy. Please, don't shave it."

Slam!