Disclaimer: Severus Snape and company all are the property of J.K. Rowling, I do not own the rights to him or his world in any way shape or form (I just like to play there). Rosemary Grene is an original character I created for ht epurpose of this recreational story, not to gain any sort of monetary compensation.

The weeks passed as everyone settled into the year. Fall was fast approaching and the Dark Forest was awash in a sea of autumn color. A nip had stolen into the air, biting at unwitting heels. The great hall was full of excited chatter as students tucked in before the first quidditch match of the season—Hufflepuff versus Ravenclaw.

Severus had only seen Rosemary once since their walk across the grounds. She had dropped by his office for a list of students that might need her help but since then he had only seen her in passing. As a result he was surprised when she slid into the chair next to him at breakfast.

"Good morning, Severus," she said cheerfully.

"Good morning," he replied coolly.

"I trust you've been well?" She picked up a slice of toast and began smearing strawberry jam across its dry surface.

"Fine; and you?"

"Just peachy," she said with a smile. Silence descended upon them then, like moths upon a flame. But it wasn't an uncomfortable silence; quite the contrary, in fact. It wasn't that they didn't know what to say, it was that they didn't need to say anything. Finally, as she was fixing herself some coffee, Rosemary spoke.

"I wanted to thank you again, for all of the help you have given me. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

Severus allowed her a small, polite smile. "You're welcome."

"They seem quite excited," she said, changing topics abrubtly. "The children, I mean."

Severus glanced up from his eggs. "Yes, quidditch always seems to arouse a certain amount of school spirit."

"I was never really a fan."

Severus raised his brows in surprise. "I find that rather difficult to believe," he murmured.

Rosemary shrugged. "I just never really saw the appeal."

"I suppose that make two of us," muttered Severus, taking a long draw from his coffee. Rosemary chuckled softly in response, but said nothing.

oo

As he was dressing for bed that evening, Severus replayed the day's events in his mind. Somehow at the morning's quidditch match, he and Rosemary had wound up sitting next to each other once more. He vaguely remembered her asking him something about an article in yesterday's Daily Prophet, and ended up talking with her for the entire match. He found that he rather enjoyed talking with her; it was nice to have someone who was not only intelligent but also easy to talk to. Many of the younger teachers were intimidated by his surly demeanor, but Rosemary seemed utterly unaffected by his cool aloofness.

Waving out his bedside candle, he slid into bed. Yet, for some reason, as he slept, he could not rid himself of the knowing smile that Minerva had flashed him that morning.