CHAPTER EIGHT

Things were definitely going downhill at the little house.

The rather domestic peace they'd managed before that fateful book-theft was a thing of the past now. Although they still worked well together, still talked and enjoyed each other's company, it wasn't - peaceful. Severus was crankier than ever, and Hermione was a little edgy herself. It didn't help that his response to her sniping was to snipe back - which she'd liked right up until she realized she'd been liking it in comparison to Harry and Ron's tendency to look wounded or sulk. It had made her feel horribly disloyal, realizing that she preferred Severus in yet another way.

And it didn't help that people kept trying to talk to her. Harry had approached the problem of her association with the dreaded Snape the way he preferred to deal with all personal problems - he was ignoring it and hoping it would go away. Ginny had kindly pretended the conversation at the Burrow had never happened. And, now that she'd been found, a few others were making contact - Parvati, for some reason, although they'd never liked each other much. Neville, which she'd hadn't minded - he was always sweet, and more likely to chatter about his wonderful new job as an apprentice Herbologist for St Mungo's than to ask personal questions. And Luna, who was now writing for the Quibbler, with her usual mix of utter rubbish and unnerving accuracy. Hermione had, despite Severus' disdainful muttering, taken out a subscription - it was surprisingly entertaining these days. Luna's ability to puncture inflated egos and poke holes in convincing lies was on the increase, and it had been pretty good even at school.

Slowly, relentlessly, Hermione was being pulled out of the protective shell that was the house at Spinner's End. She hated it. She'd been happy, when it was just the three of them. No impertinent questions, no demands to know what Severus was 'really like', as if he were some strange foreign animal, no unwanted sympathy for things she didn't want to think about.

It didn't help that while she was finally being sought out, Severus wasn't. Draco visited regularly, and she'd been rather touched to realize that - slimy little ferret that he was - Draco genuinely loved his former teacher, looking up to him with a sincere respect and affection that his former sycophantic air had masked. Severus returned the affection, and Hermione had - with a little regret - decided to be nice to Draco, since it meant so much to her...

Friend? Partner? Ally? She wasn't sure how to think of him anymore. 'Former teacher' was true, but no longer relevant. They were equals, now, in everything except the brewing of potions, in which he was still light-years ahead of her, but quite willing to help her catch up. They were friends, certainly, and partners, but neither word did justice to how complicated things felt between them, sometimes. Allies they always would be, and in a way that fitted better - the word carried overtones of shared endeavour, of battles fought side by side. But none of them were exactly right.

Increasingly, though, she found herself thinking of him simply as 'mine'. When she'd realized she was actually resentful of Draco's helping him up the stairs when he was around, she'd had to retreat to the end of the garden and throw gnomes for a while until she felt better.

She'd tried to rationalize it. She'd been nursing the man for months. They'd hardly seen anyone else. He was the precise antithesis of Ron, and thus a 'safe' person to fixate on. There were plenty of perfectly rational, sensible reasons for her to develop a passing infatuation with him. No psychologist - and oh, god, the wizarding world DESPERATELY needed a few good mental health professionals! - would have batted an eye at her current state of mind.

It was just a predictable little infatuation that would go away. She wouldn't embarrass either of them by saying anything.

"Oh, crap!" she gasped, as the train of thought she'd gone through a hundred times before ended just in time for her to see her flaxseed solution on the very brink of coming to a boil. She snatched it away from the fire, yelping as her fingers scorched... but at least it hadn't boiled. It would have been rendered useless - and while flaxseed wasn't difficult to acquire, the bezoar at the bottom of the small cauldron had been expensive. Simmering it in flaxseed solution released the small stone's poison-negating properties, making it bottleable, but if it got too hot the virtue would go out of it and it would be useless.

Sucking her burnt fingers, she looked into the cauldron anxiously, and then relaxed. The solution was now a clear, rather glaring yellow - not very attractive, but right. If it had boiled, it would have turned a murky brown.

"Hermione?" Severus had been working at the other end of the workbench while she was supposed to be watching the cauldron, keeping it from getting too hot or cooling down too much. Now he put down the orchid he'd been carefully dismembering and limped over to her, taking her hand in his and turning it over. There were reddened burns all along her fingers, and one small blister. "What were you thinking?" he asked, scowling at her. "You learned rudimentary cauldron-safety in your first year."

"I got... my mind wandered," she admitted guiltily. "The solution almost boiled. I had to get it away from the heat quickly."

"Even so." He reached for the burn salve that was a necessity in any well-equipped laboratory, still scowling. "You know better."

It was, surely, the mildest reproof he'd ever given anyone. If he'd said it in Potions at school, there would have been speculation as to whether he was ill. But suddenly Hermione wished he'd snarled at her. That would have been more normal than the quiet reproach, and the gentle way he was smoothing the salve over her burns. She pulled her fingers away, then had to feign a wince as he looked up in surprise. "I'm fine!" she said crossly. "It was just a stupid slip, I won't do it again."

"I should hope not," he said, an acerbic note creeping into his voice. "Even Neville managed to grasp the concept that touching a hot cauldron with your bare skin is an unwise idea... eventually."

The sharpness helped. She hated it when he looked at her like that, it gave that stupid passing infatuation ideas above its station, and she knew damn well he didn't mean it that way. "And you were so disappointed," she sniped back, relaxing a little.

A nice little bicker later, she felt a bit better. Things were still... normal. Good.


Severus had eventually - with Winky's help - decided to rearrange the house a little. The small sitting room now served as a study of sorts, being bigger than the tiny, poky room that had served as a dining room. The table had been moved in, with chairs at each end, and had promptly vanished under stacks of parchment, books, bottles, and quills. His comfortable chair - and another for her - was still at one end, and the uncomfortable sofa had been banished. It was... a pleasant room, now. A homey one. He and Hermione spent most of their time either there or in the laboratory, usually together, sometimes not.

If it hadn't been for those books, he would have been happier now than he had ever been in his life.

He resolutely turned his thoughts away, going back to the translation of an obscure passage in Elvish that hinted tantalizingly at hitherto forgotten uses for a plant it called 'asahir', which he thought might be sukebind. Even with the dictionary and his patchy knowledge of Elvish - mostly limited to plant-names - it was a difficult challenge, and he was thoroughly enjoying it, in a frustrated way. And it distracted him nicely from wishing for things he couldn't have.

He growled a mild curse as someone knocked on the door. People would keep doing that - sometimes even muggles, who could often get through an entire short speech without him understanding more than a few disjointed words. And, since there were muggles about, Winky was prohibited from answering the door. He would let Hermione answer it.

"I'll get it," she told the top of his head as he bent over his parchment again, and he smiled a little. The affectionate exasperation in her voice was very pleasant.

She crossed the small room, peeking around the door... and he heard a quiet indrawn breath, and looked up in alarm. He hadn't shared his home with her for so long without knowing what Hermione flying into a controlled fury sounded like. "What do you want?" she said, her voice icy, to whoever was on the other side of the door."

He didn't catch the words, but the voice sounded familiar, and he tensed. Her? Here? Hermione was scowling, as she reluctantly stepped back from the door she'd been holding barely open. "If you must," she said grimly, turning on her heel and marching over to position herself protectively beside him.

He was grateful for her support, as Minerva McGonagall entered the room. They hadn't met since Albus Dumbledore's death, over a year before, although he'd seen her at Bellatrix's trial. "Minerva," he said quietly, rising as he retreated automatically behind the mask of icy control that he'd used for years. "To what do I owe the honour?"

She gave him a thin, awkward smile. She looked older, and very tired. "Hello, Severus," she said quietly. "We... haven't seen you for a while," she added awkwardly.

Hermione bristled beside him. "You noticed!" she said, in the cuttingly sweet voice she saved for when she was especially angry. "And after only eleven months! It must be wonderful to be so keenly observant."

Severus smiled just a little, pleased by her protective anger and decidedly amused by the stunned look on Minerva's face. So far as he knew, Hermione had never so much as been short with her ever before, let alone blatantly rude. "Indeed it must," he agreed coolly. He waved the Headmistress to one of the more comfortable chairs at the other end of the room, limping just a shade more than necessary to reach the other one. Hermione played up nicely, making little concerned noises as she helped him into the chair, and taking up her position beside him again. He couldn't see her face, then, but from the look on Minerva's face, those charming brown eyes were looking daggers at her.

"That is uncalled for, Miss Granger," Minerva said rather stiffly. "Naturally I checked to be sure that Severus was all right, but since you were here and had the matter in hand-"

"You didn't see any need to make an effort? Stop by? Say hello, you're not forgotten?" Hermione snapped, and then she fell silent as Severus raised a hand.

"Hermione has cared for me very well," he said quietly. "The healers are now quite optimistic that I will be able to lead a very sedate semblance of a normal life, after a few more months of convalescence." Emendis had been extremely pleased, on his last visit. Apparently having something to live for made quite a difference in how well one recovered.

"That's wonderful news." Minerva smiled, and he softened just a little. She had, after all, a much better excuse for simply abandoning him than most of the others, what with the school needing to be rebuilt and restarted and so on. The year for which Hogwarts had been closed must have made for some very large incoming classes, too, which couldn't have helped. "I'm very glad that you're finally recovering... and I had every faith in Miss Granger," she added, giving Hermione a rather reproachful look. "She is one of the most capable young witches we have ever trained."

"She is indeed." Minerva was surprised at that too... he could almost see the thoughts going through her head. Why are they getting along so well now? What have I missed? He smiled ever so slightly. "But I don't really think you came all this way just to inquire after my health, Minerva," he said quietly. "So I ask again... to what do I owe the honour?"

"You're getting better, Severus," she said quietly, her tired eyes meeting his wary one. "I knew that before I came. Hogwarts is rebuilt, now, but we're still short on staff. Horace is insistant about going back into retirement, Kingsley Shacklebolt is going back to the ministry - he took Defense against the Dark Arts, but only for a year - and we don't have a permanent replacement for Filius, yet." She looked down at her hands, swallowing hard. "I can offer you a choice of positions..."

Severus regarded her for a long moment, then shook his head. "I have never had any intention of returning to Hogwarts," he said firmly. "I never liked teaching, and stayed only because Albus Dumbledore... required it of me. I will not return now." He sensed Hermione relaxing from her sudden tension, and ruthlessly crushed the hope that it meant she didn't want him to leave her. "I have found... other work, more to my taste."

She gave him a startled look. "I... hope I can convince you to change your mind," she said, frowning worriedly. "What work is it that you have chosen?"

He drew his wand from his robes, flicked it, and a small bottle floated up from the table and drifted over into Minerva's hand. It was a sample ready to be sent to the Apothecary for testing, and a visually striking one - the potion within glowed a faint, steady blue the exact shade of a morning sky. He watched it drop into her palm with hidden pride - only recently had his magic begun to strengthen again. It felt good to be independent again, even in such a small way.

She turned the bottle over in her hand, frowning as she read the neat handwritten label and then, on the other side of the bottle, saw the snake-and-lioness symbol etched into the glass. "I... see," she said slowly. "The two of you are... partners, in this endeavour?"

He frowned, sure he heard a censorious note in her voice... but before he could speak, Hermione's hand rested lightly on his shoulder. "We are," she said coolly. "We work well together - and I very much enjoy the challenge of working with someone who doesn't need me to do his homework for him," she added, a rather wry note in her voice.

That got a small, reluctant smile from Minerva. "I see," she said, turning the bottle over in her fingers. "Your work, I believe, Miss Granger? The bottle, I mean."

Hermione shrugged. "It's easier to transfigure them than try to buy them," she agreed. "And I can be sure that the emblem is right."

"It's very fine work," Minerva said admiringly, looking at it closely. "You were always gifted at Transfiguration."

"Thank you." The possessive hand stayed on his shoulder, and Hermione's voice had not warmed appreciably. "I'm very much enjoying our work. I'm sure you'll understand my relief that he's not planning to give it up to return to a position where he was neither wanted nor valued."

Severus glanced up at her in surprise at her vehemence, and smiled a little at her almost ferocious expression. She was very much the Gryffindor lioness, just at this moment, defending what was hers against an unwanted interloper. Perhaps, after all, there was hope? She was definitely being rather possessive, and he knew she'd always liked and respected Minerva McGonagall. Surely she wouldn't be so rude to her now, if she didn't care more than that for him.

Minerva opened her mouth then, looking thoughtful, closed it again. She was no great mistress of subtlety, it was true, but she wasn't stupid, either. And she had never seen either of them behave this way before. "I can certainly understand how you would see it that way, Miss Granger," she agreed quietly. "And I should certainly have come by sooner."

She knew her student... Hermione, who would have slapped down any attempts at justification, stopped bristling as soon as the apology was uttered. "You should," she agreed, but much more mildly. "Still, you've had a great deal to do, what with rebuilding and so on."

"I have. And I, for one, wanted very much to have one of my old friends return," Minerva said, giving Severus a sad smile. "But... you're happy, Severus, I can see that, and I'm glad of it. I certainly wouldn't ask you to give it up."

"Thank you, Minerva." He inclined his head as she rose to her feet. "I am... quite content." He paused, and decided he could risk just a little emotional vulnerability. He did, after all, have a devoted protector beside him. "I am glad to see you," he added more quietly. "I have few friends, these days."

She had always been sentimental, and that admission, so unlike his former self, had her tearing up at once. "Well, you're not entirely without them," she said briskly, compensating for the sentiment as she always did. "I must be going, but I'll be stopping by again, I promise you. Take care of yourselves."

"We will," Hermione promised, and then she grinned. "Well, I will," she said, giving him an affectionately reproving look. He scowled, of course, but it didn't fool either of them... indeed, he didn't want it to. His edge was gone completely, he thought without regret, if he was actually pleased that they saw through him so easily.

"Good," Minerva said again, bestowing a rare, warm smile on both of them. "Good afternoon, then."

She let herself out, and Hermione uttered a rather charming little growl. "What CHEEK!" she said crossly, helping him up. "Thinking you'd just want to go trotting back like a good boy to where you had to go through so much..." She paused, and looked up at him a little anxiously. "You did mean it when you said you didn't want to, didn't you?"

He nodded, smiling down at her. She was standing quite close, her hand still on his arm. Her tendency to ignore 'personal space', to casually touch, made resisting her very difficult, but he didn't want her to stop. There had been few people willing to touch him in pleasant, unfrightening ways in his life, and he treasured the contact with her. "I believe I made my opinion on the dunderheads I was forced to put up with clear in your first year. I have no desire ever to teach again, believe me."

"Good." She returned his smile. "I would hate to have to give this up..." Their eyes met, and held for just a shade too long before she looked away. "The business, I mean," she added cheerfully. "We've put so much work into it, and we're really getting to be known now... oh, drat, I should go check on the sleeping potion, it's been nearly an hour."

"Of course." He nodded, watching her smile brightly and rush off before he limped back to the long table and his translation. He wished he knew how to interpret her sudden flusterment. From his reading, he knew that sudden confusion and embarrassment after such a potentially revealing statement could mean one of two things - either she was attracted to him, or she wasn't. She wasn't indifferent, at least, but her reaction could have indicated a strong opinion inclined either way.

Which was not, really, very helpful.


Hermione wasn't sure when she'd gone from wistfully wishing that he could care for her, to being miserable because he couldn't. The shift had been a gradual one; from being aware that he was a man, and not unattractive, to having the thought of romance put into her head, to wistful thoughts of 'if only', and then finally to wanting to cry because there was no hope.

She'd only realized it when Minerva McGonagall had made her pitch to Severus, offering him the position he'd always wanted, and her blood had actually run cold. What if he'd accepted? She couldn't go too... although she was quite capable of teaching Charms - or Potions, even - she was too young. There were still people at school who'd remember her as a fellow student. He would go away and leave her behind!

Then he'd refused, and she'd discovered that breathing was possible again. And then, when Professor McGonagall had gone, she'd made a slip in her relief that still made her blush to think of. Had he noticed? He was incredibly observant, but not at all good with little emotional cues. He'd certainly seen, but would he have understood?

She knew who bloody well had to have understood, though, the conniving little cow.

"Well, of course," Ginny said cheerfully. Hermione had tracked her down, dragged her into a quiet tea-house, and accused her of knowing everything. "I know you, Hermione. The minute you went off like that in his defense, I knew exactly what was going on."

"Well, why didn't you tell ME?" Hermione wailed, then blushed and lowered her voice as people at nearby tables looked around. "You're as bad as Percy!"

Ginny sipped her coffee, nodding. "He and I are the only members of the family who're any good at keeping secrets," she said placidly. "He would have told me about the spying, if I'd been older - he knew I could keep it a secret. But he couldn't trust any of the others not to let something slip, and he didn't want me to be burdened with such a big secret when I was so young."

"I don't blame him," Hermione agreed, momentarily distracted. "I mean, I love your family, Gin, you know I do, but it's the easiest thing in the world to get secrets out of them. Just wind them up enough and it stands out all over them."

"I know. I don't know where Percy and I get it," Ginny said reflectively. "Maybe we're throwbacks to some very secretive Weasley of centuries ago."

"It's entirely possible." Hermione reached over to poke her shoulder. "And you stop trying to distract me! Why didn't you tell me?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Hermione... you can't just tell someone 'hey, by the way, you're in love with so-and-so'. It's sort of one of those things you have to work out by yourself."

Hermione was going brilliant red. Ginny had used the l-word. She was not yet emotionally prepared for the l-word. "I suppose so," she muttered. "But a little warning would have been nice anyway. I kept trying to tell myself that it was just some kind of passing infatuation, but I don't think it is." She gave Ginny a woeful look. "And I feel like such a horrible person for... you know... moving on so fast."

Ginny reached over to pat her hand gently. "Hermione... it's been nearly a year. It's not exactly fast." She sighed. "I miss him too," she said quietly. "I always will. But he's gone, and he's not going to come back. What do you think you should be doing, checking into a nunnery or something?"

"Well, the wimples are very flattering..." Hermione managed a small giggle. "But... no. I loved Ron, but I'm not going to spend the rest of my life clinging to a memory." She'd never said it out loud before. It helped, in a painful way.

"Good. You'd be miserable, and I don't want that." Ginny stirred her coffee, looking down into it rather wistfully. "And... the two of you are really compatible, Hermione. You're both brilliant, you both love to know stuff, you're both kind of snappish..."

"If you're comparing my snapping to his, I think I'm insulted." Hermione gave her a rather wobbly smile. "But... yeah. We are sort of compatible. Yes, all right, very compatible," she amended, as Ginny gave her a pointed look. "But he doesn't... I mean... Ginny, I'm not even sure if he likes girls!"

Ginny paused and snickered. "Well, if he doesn't, you can always nudge him Percy's way," she giggled. "But you have a point, I guess... it's not like you know who he's fancied in the past, or anything."

"Exactly!" Hermione sighed. "I don't think he prefers guys... I mean, I spotted Percy even before Percy did... but I'm not absolutely sure. And... well... even if he does prefer women, he's known me since I was a little girl! A very unattractive, bossy, rule-breaking little girl! He's not going to want to be involved with me!"

Ginny shook her head, smiling a little. "Hermione... look, I don't know what's been going on while you two are alone, obviously. Does he treat you like a kid? Boss you around? Make mention of your youth and ignorance? Send you to your room?"

Hermione shook her head slowly. "No... actually, I'm the one who does the room-sending. He gets tired, and he won't nap unless someone makes him, he thinks it's a sign of weakness or something. But mostly we're equals, you know? We bicker, but he doesn't tell me off or anything."

"Then I wouldn't worry about it," Ginny said encouragingly. "He doesn't treat very many people as equals, from what I've seen. If you're in, you're doing pretty well so far."

"I suppose so." Despite herself, Hermione felt a tiny bit more hopeful. "But... did you ever hear him on the subject of romance, Ginny?"

Ginny nodded, making a face. "He confiscated a romance-novel in one of my classes, once. He was... uhm... kind of eloquent on the subject of brain-death, drivelling sentiment, and so on."

"Yeah. He gave Lavender the same speech when he caught her with a copy of TeenWitch in class, doing the 'is he your one true love' quiz under the workbench." Hermione shuddered. "I mean, I agreed with a lot of what he had to say about that mind-numbingly idiotic magazine, but..." She bit her lip. "If I said something, or even hinted, and he didn't... he's not one for tactful silence, Ginny, you know that. He hasn't turned that withering scorn on me for a while, not since he gave up on trying to drive me out of the house, but he's still good at it and... I don't think I could stand it if he found out I cared and he sneered at me." She looked down at the table. "He might even laugh," she said in a tiny voice.

"I don't think he would," Ginny said slowly. "I mean, he might turn you down, and he probably wouldn't be very nice, but I don't think he'd laugh. He hasn't exactly had a lot of people around who care about him, has he? I don't think he'd think it was funny, even if he didn't feel that way about you."

"I hope not." Hermione sighed. "This would be so much easier if he wasn't so damn twisty," she admitted, smiling a little ruefully. "He's so complicated... half the time I have no idea why he does what he does. If he was easier to read, I'd know what to do."

"If he was easier to read, you wouldn't be half as crazy about him," Ginny pointed out, with a rather Luna-like strike to the heart of the matter. "He challenges you, he fascinates you... you're not used to having to work at understanding people, and the mystery is part of his appeal."

Hermione stared at her. "When did everyone in the world suddenly turn all perceptive on me?" she asked plaintively. "Neville, Percy, Fred, George... and now you!"

Ginny shrugged, giving her a rather sad smile. "We're all growing up, I guess," she said softly. "Finally."


Note: Sorry about the delay in posting this one, everyone. Er... you know how I said this story was finished? Originally chapter eight was the last one. But on rereading, I realized that after all that buildup, I'd kind of shortchanged Hermione and Severus in the actually being in love parts. So here's the revised chapter eight, and nine and the epilogue should be along in a couple of days. I'm sure you can all forgive me for adding a few thousand more words to the story, right?