Severus was glad to see the back of Hermione, and not just for the sake of
the view of her silk-covered rear; he needed time to think, and it was
getting increasingly difficult to remind himself that Hermione was very
clearly the marrying sort and was therefore out of bounds.
He'd considered sleeping with her, was considering sleeping with her, but he had to face the fact that if he did, she may very well be the last woman he ever slept with.
The frightening thing was that was becoming less and less of an unpleasant prospect as time went on. Truth to tell, it was only Hermione's acerbic presence that had made the constant round of parties and celebrations following the war bearable; he had come to value her as a friend, although he would deny it strenuously to anyone who asked.
The only conclusion that he could come to was he had either to stop this silly game now, before either of them got any deeper, or play it for all it was worth.
When Hermione returned, pleasantly flushed from her shower, he was on the brink of saying, gently, that the joke had gone far enough, when he heard his traitorous mouth enquire whether she might like to go for a walk into Hogsmeade.
Apparently she would.
When he got out of the shower, he was mildly disturbed to find himself worrying what to wear. He sat down on the edge of the bed and gave himself a very firm talking to. If, and it was a very strong if, he was going to pursue the idea of a relationship with Hermione, it was important to remember that they had known each other for nearly ten years and it was therefore probable that she had stopped noticing what he wore or what he looked like. Nor was there any point in trying to be charming or nice, she had known him for far too long to be taken in by that.
So that meant he was fighting this fight, if he was fighting this fight, with both hands tied behind his back. It was rather depressing really.
Still, on the bright side, the fact that they had known each other for nearly ten years meant that she could hardly claim to be unaware of his personality, and it had to be said that they had started spending a lot of time together at these events regardless of Albus's interference. It may be that she looked on him as a friend as well. Her reservations about a more permanent arrangement, if she had reservations, may be that she thought he was only interested in a quick fling.
Which was entirely the point in question, what were his intentions: strictly dishonourable, mildly dishonourable, or entirely honourable?
The only way to answer that was by spending more time with Hermione, getting to know her better, and allowing her to get to know him better: well, within limits. Obviously, it would never do for her to get to know him really well. If he kept snogging her senseless, she might never notice his faults, or begin to work out what was really going on. Keep her off balance, that was the answer. He smirked. That he could do.
So he went out to offer Hermione his arm, and escort her to Hogsmeade, without ever noticing that in the space of ten minutes he had moved from 'whether' to 'how'.
The walk to Hogsmeade was pleasant enough. The winter sun was bright but not warm, and Hermione seemed to find it necessary to draw closer to him to keep warm. He had no objections; there was something soothing about her presence, something comforting about another body next to his, and the quiet sharing of a winter's afternoon.
Their peaceful camaraderie was shattered by the racket of Hogsmeade.
By unspoken agreement they headed for the Three Broomsticks. Although Hermione was well past the age of drinking butterbeer, she had one for old time's sake, whilst Severus nursed a brandy.
They were enjoying a spirited discussion on the latest article in Materia Alchemica - Hermione thought the author was a stupid fool who had rocks in his head, and Severus thought he was an incompetent moron - when Harry and Ron walked in.
Hermione had her back to the door, so Severus was the first to notice that they had company. From the very pointed way they were ignoring Hermione it was clear to him that they had followed her there from Hogwarts: Dobby had done his job.
He reached out across the table and took her hand. "Don't look now, darling," he said quietly, "but I think we are being watched?"
Was that a flash of disappointment in her eyes? Did she really want him to hold her hand with no ulterior motive? Interesting.
He had no chance to press his advantage though, not here and certainly not now, not when there could be doubt as to his motives. He watched her stiffen, and then consciously make herself relax.
They continued their discussion about the article, but kept their voices low. Harry and Ron couldn't tell what they were talking about, but they could tell that Hermione was close to Severus. Very close.
They watched carefully, trying very hard to give the impression that they weren't watching, for fifteen minutes, before they decided to call in back up.
Ginny.
Ron summoned her from another group where she had been chatting. She kept throwing glances over to Hermione and Severus before turning back to engage her brother in an animated discussion. From the shrug Harry gave, he could tell that she had been asking what on earth they thought was going on; when she headed over to their table a few minutes later, he knew that she had been sent to spy out the land.
Gryffindors were about as subtle as a brick.
"Hello, Hermione," said Ginny breezily, "I didn't see you there. How are things?"
Hermione and Ginny made polite conversation for several minutes, whilst Ginny tried to find out what was going on. Eventually, her patience exhausted, she dived straight in, "So, you and Professor Snape are an item then?"
"Miss Weasley," he said, putting as much of the classroom venom in as possible, "I fail to see why it is any of your business whether Miss Granger are an item, as you so vulgarly put it."
"Now, now, Severus," said Hermione, laying her hand on his in a soothing gesture, "I'm sure Ginny is just pleased to see us happy, aren't you?"
Judging from the look of horror on her face when Hermione touched him, the answer to that would appear to be negative.
"Ye-es, of course," she stammered. It didn't take long for her to recover her composure though and decide to make the kind of tactless comment that Gryffindors in general, and Weasleys in particular were renowned for.
"Well at least you managed to land one of your student crushes."
Severus watched in horrified amusement as Hermione actually giggled, and said, "Ginny, you should know better than to give away my secrets like that; you'll have Severus think he can get away with murder." She giggled again, clasped his hand more tightly, and said, "isn't that right, darling? You know what these Slytherins are like."
Severus was appalled. He hoped that Hermione didn't make a habit of giggling inanely like that, because if that was the case their relationship would be destined to be strangled at birth. He could, however, recognise a cue when he heard one, and in a spirit of mischief said, "you must tell me more Miss Weasley."
There was a flash of irritation in Hermione's eyes, and a twitch from her hand as she instinctively tried to withdraw, and then overcame the urge.
It appeared that there was an element of truth to this then, and wasn't merely some elaborate fantasy concocted by the Weasley girl to flush out the truth about them. This had the potential to be very amusing, although he suspected he might end up paying for it later.
"Well," said Ginny, taking a seat at their table without an invitation, "it all started in your seventh year, didn't it Herms?"
Severus thought the fulminating glance thrown at Ginny was more to do with the shortening of her name, than any potentially embarrassing revelations.
"Harry and Ron noticed that you were increasingly distracted in potions classes, you didn't seem to be able to concentrate. Oh, they didn't want to say anything, but they worked it out. You obviously had a crush on Professor Snape, and here you are! Isn't it romantic?" she gushed.
Severus didn't believe that little story for a minute, and said so. "I'm sure I would have noticed if Hermione's work had suffered in any way in her seventh year," he said dismissively, "so why don't you go back to your brother and your friend and tell them that Hermione and I only became involved during the course of the last year or so, and that they, and you, should stop your feverish imaginations from running overtime thinking that there was any romance between us whilst Hermione was still a student. Frankly, I find the whole idea offensive; Hermione had her mind on much more important things at that time, as did I."
Ginny left in a huff; but she could quite clearly be seen trotting over to the boys to make her report.
"Silly cow," he said.
He was rewarded by Hermione throwing back her head and laughing; a rich, warm laugh that made everyone in the pub stop, just for a second, and stare.
"It's true that I didn't spend my time mooning over you in potions classes," she said warmly, "but for once in their self-absorbed little lives they weren't far wrong, you know."
"You mean you did have a crush on me?" he said in some surprise.
"No, not a crush as such. I certainly didn't think of turning up to detention in a short skirt and fluttering my eyelashes at you; but the boys weren't very happy with me when I stuck up for you. I did admire you for what you were doing, and they couldn't understand that at all. It was easier for them the dismiss it as some hormonal imbalance, and just a silly phase I was going through, then to face up to the fact that I respected you. You really were all that I thought Lockhart was: brave; determined; resourceful; clever."
He felt flustered; he expected he looked flustered. Actually, he suspected he might be blushing slightly. Hermione had neatly turned the tables on him by telling him how she had really felt as a schoolgirl. He felt immensely gratified that in that difficult time, before the Order of Merlin and his rehabilitation, there had been someone who had appreciated him.
"I often wish I'd said something at the time," she said.
"I would have just snapped at you," he replied.
"I know, but it would have been worth it if it would have made you feel valued, if it would have mean something to you."
"It means something to me now," he said, a little shyly.
She ran her thumb backwards and forwards across the back of his hand. "I'm glad."
They exchanged smiles and then returned to their discussion of the article. She didn't let go of his hand though, and both of them realised that something had changed for good between them.
It only remained to be seen where that change would lead them.
He'd considered sleeping with her, was considering sleeping with her, but he had to face the fact that if he did, she may very well be the last woman he ever slept with.
The frightening thing was that was becoming less and less of an unpleasant prospect as time went on. Truth to tell, it was only Hermione's acerbic presence that had made the constant round of parties and celebrations following the war bearable; he had come to value her as a friend, although he would deny it strenuously to anyone who asked.
The only conclusion that he could come to was he had either to stop this silly game now, before either of them got any deeper, or play it for all it was worth.
When Hermione returned, pleasantly flushed from her shower, he was on the brink of saying, gently, that the joke had gone far enough, when he heard his traitorous mouth enquire whether she might like to go for a walk into Hogsmeade.
Apparently she would.
When he got out of the shower, he was mildly disturbed to find himself worrying what to wear. He sat down on the edge of the bed and gave himself a very firm talking to. If, and it was a very strong if, he was going to pursue the idea of a relationship with Hermione, it was important to remember that they had known each other for nearly ten years and it was therefore probable that she had stopped noticing what he wore or what he looked like. Nor was there any point in trying to be charming or nice, she had known him for far too long to be taken in by that.
So that meant he was fighting this fight, if he was fighting this fight, with both hands tied behind his back. It was rather depressing really.
Still, on the bright side, the fact that they had known each other for nearly ten years meant that she could hardly claim to be unaware of his personality, and it had to be said that they had started spending a lot of time together at these events regardless of Albus's interference. It may be that she looked on him as a friend as well. Her reservations about a more permanent arrangement, if she had reservations, may be that she thought he was only interested in a quick fling.
Which was entirely the point in question, what were his intentions: strictly dishonourable, mildly dishonourable, or entirely honourable?
The only way to answer that was by spending more time with Hermione, getting to know her better, and allowing her to get to know him better: well, within limits. Obviously, it would never do for her to get to know him really well. If he kept snogging her senseless, she might never notice his faults, or begin to work out what was really going on. Keep her off balance, that was the answer. He smirked. That he could do.
So he went out to offer Hermione his arm, and escort her to Hogsmeade, without ever noticing that in the space of ten minutes he had moved from 'whether' to 'how'.
The walk to Hogsmeade was pleasant enough. The winter sun was bright but not warm, and Hermione seemed to find it necessary to draw closer to him to keep warm. He had no objections; there was something soothing about her presence, something comforting about another body next to his, and the quiet sharing of a winter's afternoon.
Their peaceful camaraderie was shattered by the racket of Hogsmeade.
By unspoken agreement they headed for the Three Broomsticks. Although Hermione was well past the age of drinking butterbeer, she had one for old time's sake, whilst Severus nursed a brandy.
They were enjoying a spirited discussion on the latest article in Materia Alchemica - Hermione thought the author was a stupid fool who had rocks in his head, and Severus thought he was an incompetent moron - when Harry and Ron walked in.
Hermione had her back to the door, so Severus was the first to notice that they had company. From the very pointed way they were ignoring Hermione it was clear to him that they had followed her there from Hogwarts: Dobby had done his job.
He reached out across the table and took her hand. "Don't look now, darling," he said quietly, "but I think we are being watched?"
Was that a flash of disappointment in her eyes? Did she really want him to hold her hand with no ulterior motive? Interesting.
He had no chance to press his advantage though, not here and certainly not now, not when there could be doubt as to his motives. He watched her stiffen, and then consciously make herself relax.
They continued their discussion about the article, but kept their voices low. Harry and Ron couldn't tell what they were talking about, but they could tell that Hermione was close to Severus. Very close.
They watched carefully, trying very hard to give the impression that they weren't watching, for fifteen minutes, before they decided to call in back up.
Ginny.
Ron summoned her from another group where she had been chatting. She kept throwing glances over to Hermione and Severus before turning back to engage her brother in an animated discussion. From the shrug Harry gave, he could tell that she had been asking what on earth they thought was going on; when she headed over to their table a few minutes later, he knew that she had been sent to spy out the land.
Gryffindors were about as subtle as a brick.
"Hello, Hermione," said Ginny breezily, "I didn't see you there. How are things?"
Hermione and Ginny made polite conversation for several minutes, whilst Ginny tried to find out what was going on. Eventually, her patience exhausted, she dived straight in, "So, you and Professor Snape are an item then?"
"Miss Weasley," he said, putting as much of the classroom venom in as possible, "I fail to see why it is any of your business whether Miss Granger are an item, as you so vulgarly put it."
"Now, now, Severus," said Hermione, laying her hand on his in a soothing gesture, "I'm sure Ginny is just pleased to see us happy, aren't you?"
Judging from the look of horror on her face when Hermione touched him, the answer to that would appear to be negative.
"Ye-es, of course," she stammered. It didn't take long for her to recover her composure though and decide to make the kind of tactless comment that Gryffindors in general, and Weasleys in particular were renowned for.
"Well at least you managed to land one of your student crushes."
Severus watched in horrified amusement as Hermione actually giggled, and said, "Ginny, you should know better than to give away my secrets like that; you'll have Severus think he can get away with murder." She giggled again, clasped his hand more tightly, and said, "isn't that right, darling? You know what these Slytherins are like."
Severus was appalled. He hoped that Hermione didn't make a habit of giggling inanely like that, because if that was the case their relationship would be destined to be strangled at birth. He could, however, recognise a cue when he heard one, and in a spirit of mischief said, "you must tell me more Miss Weasley."
There was a flash of irritation in Hermione's eyes, and a twitch from her hand as she instinctively tried to withdraw, and then overcame the urge.
It appeared that there was an element of truth to this then, and wasn't merely some elaborate fantasy concocted by the Weasley girl to flush out the truth about them. This had the potential to be very amusing, although he suspected he might end up paying for it later.
"Well," said Ginny, taking a seat at their table without an invitation, "it all started in your seventh year, didn't it Herms?"
Severus thought the fulminating glance thrown at Ginny was more to do with the shortening of her name, than any potentially embarrassing revelations.
"Harry and Ron noticed that you were increasingly distracted in potions classes, you didn't seem to be able to concentrate. Oh, they didn't want to say anything, but they worked it out. You obviously had a crush on Professor Snape, and here you are! Isn't it romantic?" she gushed.
Severus didn't believe that little story for a minute, and said so. "I'm sure I would have noticed if Hermione's work had suffered in any way in her seventh year," he said dismissively, "so why don't you go back to your brother and your friend and tell them that Hermione and I only became involved during the course of the last year or so, and that they, and you, should stop your feverish imaginations from running overtime thinking that there was any romance between us whilst Hermione was still a student. Frankly, I find the whole idea offensive; Hermione had her mind on much more important things at that time, as did I."
Ginny left in a huff; but she could quite clearly be seen trotting over to the boys to make her report.
"Silly cow," he said.
He was rewarded by Hermione throwing back her head and laughing; a rich, warm laugh that made everyone in the pub stop, just for a second, and stare.
"It's true that I didn't spend my time mooning over you in potions classes," she said warmly, "but for once in their self-absorbed little lives they weren't far wrong, you know."
"You mean you did have a crush on me?" he said in some surprise.
"No, not a crush as such. I certainly didn't think of turning up to detention in a short skirt and fluttering my eyelashes at you; but the boys weren't very happy with me when I stuck up for you. I did admire you for what you were doing, and they couldn't understand that at all. It was easier for them the dismiss it as some hormonal imbalance, and just a silly phase I was going through, then to face up to the fact that I respected you. You really were all that I thought Lockhart was: brave; determined; resourceful; clever."
He felt flustered; he expected he looked flustered. Actually, he suspected he might be blushing slightly. Hermione had neatly turned the tables on him by telling him how she had really felt as a schoolgirl. He felt immensely gratified that in that difficult time, before the Order of Merlin and his rehabilitation, there had been someone who had appreciated him.
"I often wish I'd said something at the time," she said.
"I would have just snapped at you," he replied.
"I know, but it would have been worth it if it would have made you feel valued, if it would have mean something to you."
"It means something to me now," he said, a little shyly.
She ran her thumb backwards and forwards across the back of his hand. "I'm glad."
They exchanged smiles and then returned to their discussion of the article. She didn't let go of his hand though, and both of them realised that something had changed for good between them.
It only remained to be seen where that change would lead them.