"Kingsley Shacklebolt is dead."
There was no way that either Severus or Hermione could have prepared themselves to have this information bestowed upon them, and it hit them both like a thunderbolt.
Hermione's reaction to the heart-breaking news was almost immediate; after a moment's horrified silence, she gasped in shock and a hand flew up to cover her mouth. Seconds later she descended into tears and sat back down onto the bed as though in a trance, silent sobs making her shoulders shake.
Severus just closed his eyes momentarily. He felt remorse – of course he did – but at the same time, the senior members of the Order of the Phoenix had been suspecting another death for months now. This killing was long overdue. But of course that was deliberate on Voldemort's part – make them wait so they would fall into a sense of false security so he could horrify them all the more when the death eventually came. But of course, Hermione, as one of the younger members of the group knew nothing of the Order's worries for everyone's safety. So to her, this was another random death – she must think it was just bad luck that Shacklebolt had been killed.
In reality, it was far from bad luck or a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Severus immediately suspected that this death was a warning from Voldemort of worse things to come.
He unconsciously reached down and grasped the now clear skin of his left forearm tightly. Despite the fact that he had spent hours concealing the Dark Mark before this mission, he still felt its burning presence beneath the glamour. His hand fell away limply.
Coming to his senses as he opened his eyes and saw Dumbledore looking at Hermione with a sad and somewhat helpless expression in his eyes.
Despite Severus' suspicions that Hermione was naïve enough to consider this an almost accidental killing, Hermione's mind also immediately went to Voldemort. She had realised early on in life that Voldemort wasn't like normal people in the slightest, and despite Ron's continual assurances that Harry and the Order would easily defeat Voldemort before any more deaths happened, Hermione had never been able to bring herself to believe that. She wasn't even sure if Ron himself really believed it.
Realising that Dumbldore was regarding him almost expectantly, Severus strode forward and grasped the older man's elbow, turning him away from the tearful woman on the bed.
"What happened?" he asked gruffly, a serious expression on his face.
However, before Dumbledore could even open his mouth to answer, Severus felt a hand grabbing a fistful of his t-shirt and pulling him backwards with an almighty jerk. It was, of course, Hermione.
"Don't you dare try to leave me out of this, Severus Snape!" she snarled up at him, her face red and splodgey.
"I wasn't attempting to, Miss Granger," he protested angrily, his voice raising. "I merely thought to –"
"I apologise, Professor Dumbledore," Hermione interrupted Severus, sidestepping him and addressing Dumbledore formally. Severus gritted his teeth against the insults welling up inside him just waiting to be expelled, and turned to them, planting as neutral a smile as he could on his habitually stern features.
"I've told you before, Hermione, please call me Albus."
Dumbledore smiled a sad smile down at Hermione before looking up to meet Severus' gaze.
"There was a Death Eater raid at the Ministry of Magic. Ten killed all together. We have a few witnesses who I have been talking to this afternoon. It has become apparent from them that the Death Eaters were looking for anyone who they knew to be openly affiliated with me and killed anyone who stood in their way."
At this point he looked kindly down at Hermione, who had descended into tears once again.
"Kingsley is a terrible loss, my child, but in this time of darkness we should find the courage within ourselves to be glad that he was the only Order member to suffer at the hands of the Death Eaters this time."
Hermione nodded, brushing her tears away. She knew that Dumbledore was right – Kingsley would be sorely missed on a personal level, but they would be able to go on without him. It was a harsh thing to say, but others could easily take over his job. If Dumbledore or Moody or even Severus had been killed on the other hand, the Order would have felt the loss a lot more deeply. Dumbledore shifted his gaze back to Severus, who was stood like a silent, unmoving shadow behind Hermione's back.
"I need you both to come back to Grimmauld Place immediately so we can assess the situation. We don't know what might happen next. If you could pack as quickly as possible, I should think it would be all right if you left the key on the table rather than having to make up a cover story to the reception…yes, yes, we'll do that. Now Severus, I don't believe that Hermione is a confidant enough apparater – no offence, my dear - to take her luggage with her so would you do the honours?"
Severus nodded tersely as Hermione moved away from them to start shoving their things into suitcases. As time was clearly of the essence, she didn't bother to separate their belongings; she just flung them into the cases, her clothes mingling with his.
"Good boy," Dumbledore said as Severus nodded long-sufferingly. In a whisper, he added;
"Don't be too harsh on Miss Granger, Severus. She has had an extremely tough year."
He raised his voice slightly here so Hermione would be able to hear him.
"I'll see you both at Grimmauld Place shortly."
And with that he pushed his glasses a little higher up his nose in a rather businesslike manner. His face wore an expression of supreme concentration for a moment and then he disapparated with a small pop.
Once Dumbledore had departed, Severus strode over to where Hermione was packing the cases, and stooped so he could hand her some of the clothes that were strewn all over the bedroom floor from where she had thrown them crossly earlier.
He noticed that his nightclothes and the clothes he had dropped on the floor the previous night had also been left in crumpled piles on the carpet. After living practically a lifetime at Hogwarts where he was basically waited on hand and foot by submissive house elves, he had completely forgotten that he would have to tidy up after himself.
He supposed that was why the room he usually occupied at Grimmauld Place was always so messy when he stayed there. Everything would just remain where he had dropped it until the end of his stay, when he would wave his wand so all his possessions were crammed into bags or cases.
"Thanks," Hermione muttered moments later, sounding shy as he gave her a pile of his underpants to put away.
Embarrassment soared through her as she realised these must be some of the things she had thrown about the room in disgust earlier. In all her life, she had never thought for a minute that she would ever end up touching a pair of her ex-Professor's black cotton boxer shorts.
They were soon packed and Severus placed the key to the room on the now empty dressing table – it had been littered with papers, shampoo and, for some strange reason, more of Severus' underpants – and hoped that the maid would find it there the next morning. He picked up her case and his as Hermione slung her backpack over her shoulder.
Severus couldn't help but notice that her suitcase was suspiciously light for a woman's. When he had been forced to carry the luggage of females before – his mother's and sister's when they had come to stay with him for one suicidal week during a summer holiday; and when his ex-partner, Lucia, had impetuously moved in with him at Hogwarts for a weekend after an argument with Daddy (that had been the end of that relationship) – he had found that their cases had been ridiculously heavy, no doubt weighed down with all the paraphernalia women usually felt it necessary to carry around with them and then inflict on their poor sons or lovers.
Hermione's case on the other hand appeared to be satisfactorily light, but he couldn't help suspecting that she had stashed her more weighty possessions in the rucksack over her shoulder.
It was then that he noticed that she was looking at him curiously.
"Spit it out, girl," he encouraged in rough tones, somehow knowing that she wanted to ask him a question. She had always got that rather nervous, yet curious expression on her face when she had been itching to ask him a know-it-all question or answer one of his own questions in that pompous manner of hers back in the days when she had been a snivelling little eleven year old in his Potions classes.
"I was just wondering why you haven't shrunk the cases, Sir."
'Because I'm stupid, that's why,' Severus thought crossly, annoyed that he hadn't thought of that himself. He had been too immersed in thinking about her. A small shudder fled through him as he realized that, and he quickly vowed to himself that he wouldn't allow her to distract him like that again. He quickly made up an excuse.
"Just because we are apparating to London, Miss Granger, it doesn't automatically mean that we should use as much magic as we possibly can. Apparating is still a risk, and we should avoid alerting anyone's attention to our presence as much as we can," he said in a condescending tone.
Hermione seemed to take this as a valid excuse, as she didn't challenge him about it. As there seemed nothing left to say, they both concentrated hard for a moment, wearing simultaneous expressions of seriousness.
One small pop after another indicated to the empty room that they had successfully disapparated away.
Moments later they reappeared in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, Hermione feeling sick and swaying slightly as she always did after apparating.
"Oh Hermione, thank Merlin you're safe! I was so worried about you after what happened to poor Kingsley!"
And before Hermione could even see what was happening – though she could guess - motherly arms had been flung around her and her face was squished into Molly Weasely's shoulder. She smelled wonderful – of fresh baking and polish and other fantastically homey smells.
Severus rolled his eyes at this hyperbolic display of female affection and stalked over to the kitchen cupboard, drawing out an unopened bottle of firewhiskey. He slumped down into one of the hard-backed kitchen chairs and flung his feet up onto another. He took his time unscrewing the bottle, savouring the anticipation of a hard-earned drink (another) after a day like today, but before he was able to pour out that first delicious drop of the amber liquid, the bottle was whipped out of his hand with surprising force.
"Now, now, Severus, you don't want any of that rubbish," Molly proclaimed as she put the lid on the bottle and shoved it back in its cupboard.
Hermione almost laughed out loud at the disappointed look on Severus' face as he turned to watch Molly make off with his prized whiskey. If I had been anyone other than Severus, Hermione wouldn't have bothered to hold in her laughter, but she knew that Severus wouldn't be happy if she openly laughed in his face.
Instead of the alcohol, Molly banged a large mug of tea down in front of Severus.
"Have that instead. Now you two, is bacon and eggs all right for dinner?"
By the time that Severus had been properly fed and watered, he was actually quite glad that he hadn't drunk any of that alcohol. The meal had filled him up nicely – neither he nor Hermione had eaten since breakfast that morning and that was hours ago. Severus felt slightly bad about that – it should have been his responsibility to make sure she was fed - she was barely more than a child after all. His guilt bloomed even more when he saw how quickly Hermione wolfed down her food.
Just as Severus had leant back in his chair with his third cup of tea, feeling blissfully full and allowing himself to relax slightly for once, Dumbledore walked tiredly into the room, shedding his cloak as he did. Severus went to stand up.
"Sit down my boy, sit down."
Dumbledore waved a hand at Hermione and Severus who had both started up when Dumbledore entered the room. He accepted a cup of tea from Molly and sat down heavily in the chair next to Severus. There was an expectant silence as Dumbledore drank slowly from his cup.
"So," he said eventually and Hermione looked up from her lap where she had been fiddling agitatedly with a loose button on her shorts. She and Severus were both still wearing the shorts and t-shirts they had been wearing in Italy. "I gather you discovered nothing of note on your little excursion?"
Severus didn't reply, so Hermione shook her head in answer. Dumbledore sighed.
"Well, it appears we have more pressing matters on our hands now anyway. I want you both to stay here, at least for tonight – I am concerned there may be another Death Eater attack, and I want to be sure as many people as possible are safe. I fear that Kinsley Shacklebolt's death is just the start of our troubles. "
Hermione and Severus both nodded in compliance, not feeling it was fair to argue with this man who so obviously had their best interests at heart. But secretly all they both wanted to do was to return to their respective homes and get some rest in their own beds. Severus agreed with Dumbledore about Shacklebolt's death – the man had only confirmed his earlier suspicions.
Hermione sighed inwardly. She hadn't been back to her flat in weeks and although she had bought the place only grudgingly as a base after leaving Hogwarts (it was located in one of the less salubrious areas of the London suburbs), Hermione found herself missing her home comforts now that she was basically forbidden from going there.
Severus was experiencing similar feelings to Hermione – despite having no permanent residence of his own. He had always lived at Hogwarts until he had been forced to rent a flat in Muggle London for his own safety. It had been immensely irritating for him to have to leave his job as Potions Master at Hogwarts for over a year whilst he lived in hiding, doing paperwork for Dumbledore and brewing Potions in the cramped flat.
However, a few months ago, he had returned to his chambers at Hogwarts, and although he couldn't commence teaching until the beginning of the new school year in September, he had enjoyed being back at the castle – the only place he had ever really thought of as home.
"Excellent." Dumbledore interrupted their thoughts. "I'm sure Molly will manage to make you up a bed somewhere for the night. Severus, we will need to discuss things in the morning, but for now I insist that you both get some sleep."
As he spoke, Dumbledore got up from the table, placed his cup in the sink and grabbed his cloak, tossing it around his shoulders.
"You look exhausted, my dear," he said as he passed Hermione.
Then, without another word, just a quick, weary smile at them both, he left the kitchen and they heard the small pop of apparation in the hallway. There was silence in the room for one long moment.
"Well," said Molly as jovially as she could manage considering the events of the day, but she tailed off before she could say anything of note.
Hermione broke the rather awkward silence that ensued.
"Are Ron and Harry here?"
Molly looked at her in surprise.
"No, dear! Didn't Dumbledore tell you? They've gone to Peru with Ginny to stay with Charlie and the Dragons for a while." She lowered her voice despite the fact that they were the only ones in the room. "I think Dumbledore felt they needed a break. I'm so glad they're safe with Charlie now this has happened." Her smile faded. A frown crossed her face a moment later.
"Now, I'm not sure if there are any rooms free," she murmured to herself, back to business – clearly not wanting to dwell on the events of the day or her concerns for Ron, Harry and Ginny's welfare. "Let me nip upstairs and check."
And she exited the room quickly, leaving Severus and Hermione alone at the kitchen table. Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly, not knowing what to say to this man after all that had happened that day. She was taken by surprise a minute later as he spoke softly to her.
"Are you all right?"
She stared at him for a moment, stunned that he would even bother to ask her that.
"I'm fine," she said in barely more than a whisper, her breath caught in her throat. But he heard and jerked his head in response, as if to say 'Good'. They stared at each other for a moment that seemed almost endless. It was shattered however, by the arrival of Molly in the kitchen again, holding a pile of blankets, the corners of which were trailing along the ground. The heavy oak door banged unceremoniously against the wall to herald her arrival.
"Now, Hermione dear, I'll put you in your usual room, but I'm afraid Alastor's already asleep in your normal room, Severus, and there aren't any other free rooms, so I'm going to have to put you on the sofa in the library…"
"Is anybody sharing my room, Molly?" Hermione interrupted the older woman, looking up at her earnestly.
"Well, no dear," Molly started. "But I don't see how that's –"
"Severus can stay in my room with me," Hermione said firmly, raising her chin in a defiant manner.
"Well, I –" Molly stuttered. She clearly thought that this was completely inappropriate, but it seemed she couldn't think of a reasonable argument why Severus shouldn't share Hermione's room. But it just wasn't right for a man and a woman to share a room like that!
"Well, if you're sure, dear."
Hermione nodded her head firmly, putting an end to the matter.
"Severus? Would you mind?" Molly asked, clearly hoping that he would refuse and say he would prefer the sofa in the library. Instead, he unfolded himself from his chair and took the blankets that were dangling from Molly's arms.
"It's fine, Molly. You go to bed – Hermione and I can sort this out."
Molly stared at him in surprise for a minute. Then she seemed to come to her senses and she smiled at them both, but she still seemed slightly uncomfortable.
"Right, well, I'll leave you two to sort yourselves out."
As she went to leave, Hermione gave her a kiss on the cheek and a rather shy smile, murmuring,
"Thanks, Molly," as she did so.
Molly paused momentarily at the door and looked at Hermione uneasily. Hermione smiled encouragingly at her to try and soothe her worries.
"Goodnight, Molly."
"Goodnight. Goodnight, Severus."
He nodded briefly at her, and, after one final glance at the two of them, she disappeared, shutting the door with a soft click. Barely a second passed before Severus moved to the door as well, performing Mobilcorpus on their cases with a wave of his hand. When he was out in the corridor and realised that Hermione hadn't followed him like he expected she would, he turned on his heel and stuck his head back around the door.
"Come on, you'd better show me where we're sleeping tonight."
And with that he disappeared again, his footsteps resounding as he walked on the creaky floorboards of the stairs. Hermione followed slowly, taking care to tiptoe so she didn't awake the portrait of Mrs Black that still hung in the hallway. She wasn't sure how she felt about sharing a room with Severus again. It had been weird enough in a foreign place, but now she would be spending time with him in the room she had always shared with Ginny.
When she reached the First Floor landing, Severus was stood waiting for her, his foot tapping impatiently on the floor. She walked straight past him and opened the door to her room. It looked exactly as it had always done – small, dark, a bed on either side of the room with a cabinet in between them and a window over that. The only thing that was different about it of course was the fact that Severus Snape was now stood in it, waving his hand quickly to send their clothes flying into the wardrobe and chest of drawers from their cases, before delving into his pocket and drawing out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, having dropped the bedding on the dusty floor.
God! He was such a typical man. So unthinking and uncaring towards everyone else – he was clearly obsessed with himself. He lit the cigarette and pushed it between his lips, closing his eyes in apparent pleasure as he did so, despite the fact that this was her room and she had made it quite clear that she abhorred smoking. She coughed pointedly. He ignored her.
Her temper flaring up inside of her as Severus moved over to the window, leaning casually against the wall, Hermione leant down and picked up the bedding he had so thoughtlessly dropped and began to make up the bed on the left hand side of the room for him.
"You don't have to do that, you know," came a silky voice in her ear. Hermione spun round to face the speaker, and Severus was surprised to see that her face had gone a very unflattering shade of salmon pink due to her bottled up anger.
"Why, so you can just sit in the chair all night and smoke your disgusting cigarettes?"
Severus opened his mouth to speak but Hermione didn't give him the chance.
"Or maybe you were just thinking you would snuggle up in my bed again, were you, you pervert! You make me sick!" she yelled, her eyes flashing dangerously.
Unable to hold his rage in any longer, Severus screamed back at her, spittle flying from his mouth.
"Yes, that's right, you little slut! You just make me so hot for you, I can't hold myself back!"
Completely caught up in his anger, Severus captured her body to illustrate his point, roughly palming her breast. Hermione tried to scream but one of his hands was hard over her mouth. She struggled, kicking out at him and biting down as hard as she could on his palm but he didn't even flinch. His breath was hot in her ear as he spoke to her in a menacingly soft voice.
"Just look at yourself, Hermione, you love this don't you! And you loved what I did to you earlier, didn't you, you dirty little slut? Tut, tut, what would your mother and father say, hmm?"
In a sudden flurry of movement, Hermione had freed herself from his grasp.
"You bastard!" she screamed at him, throwing her body against him as she did so, knocking him to the ground. She fell with him, falling against his chest, her arms flailing as she tried to cause as much damage as she could to any part of him that she could reach, pulling viciously at his hair and clothes, still repeating "You bastard!" over and over again. Her voice became quieter and more muffled as she continued to attempt to injure him, until her shoulders were shaking with huge wracking sobs as she pummelled her closed fists against his chest.
"Hermione! Hermione!" Severus shouted at her, trying to get her to listen to him through her haze of anguish, his anger suddenly dissipating like a cloud of dust. "What the hell's the matter?"
"They're dead, you bastard!" she shrieked at him as she raised her head from where it had been hanging against her chest. Tears were pouring down her face, her eyes were bloodshot and she had the general look of a crazed woman about her. Severus just stared at her in shock.
"They're dead, that's what's the matter! You bastard, they're dead! My parents are dead and I'll never see them again, you bastard! I hate you! I hate you so much! And I hate them for dying! I hate everyone!" she screamed, mad in her despair and anger.
She sobbed unrestrainedly, her fists falling to her sides as she straddled him. Severus felt a strange feeling flooding through him – suddenly he wanted to comfort this wretched girl who was crying all over him. He reached a gentle hand out to touch her elbow, but she flinched as he touched her and leapt up from him.
"Hermione, I –" he tried to say as he heaved himself off the floor, his back screaming from the way it had been unceremoniously slammed against the hard, sold wooden floor with the weight of a fully grown woman atop him.
"Why the hell do you think you have the right to call me 'Hermione'?" she yelled at him, suddenly fierce again. He took a step towards her, an apology dancing on his breath.
"Don't touch me, you bastard! Don't even speak to me!" she screamed and dodged away from him before flinging herself on her bed and descending once again into noisy tears. Severus winced slightly, glad that Dumbledore had had the foresight to cast automatic silencing charms on every room in Grimmauld Place. Of course these precautions were so that no one could overhear conversations they weren't supposed to, but they worked just as well for screaming matches.
Severus sighed and slumped down on his bed, running a hand through his now messy hair. Shit. He knew for a fact that he had brought that on. What the hell did he think he'd been doing, talking to her like that, and worst of all, grabbing her? There was just something about that girl that raised his hackles every time he spoke to her.
Hermione buried her head into her pillow harder, desperately attempting to muffle her crying. She just couldn't seem to stop. Suddenly it was all too much – him, her, the house, the whole situation, her parents, the way he had held her, touched her, kissed her…
Pushing those thoughts away, Hermione closed her eyes and tried to regulate her breathing and stop the tears from flowing.
Severus sat on his bed, his back against the wall for longer than he could count.
On the other side of the room, Hermione's cries softened and she quickly fell into a light and restless sleep, tossing and turning. Severus watched from the other side of the room as she slept, feeling a strange pang go through him every time she cried out. He had been wrong. She wasn't still a child. At twenty-five she had suffered more than most. Her heart-wrenching cries of, 'Daddy!' and, 'Mum, Help!' didn't help the pangs in his chest, as she so obviously relived the night her parents had died over and over.
And he had brought that on. He still didn't know what had made him act in that way towards her, but it had been inexcusable. The logical part of him didn't blame her for her reaction.
As the room grew darker still, Severus got up from the bed and picked up one of the blankets from the floor. Hermione had quietened now, but was shivering – despite being July, the weather here was wet and cold compared to Italy. He gently put the blanket over her and she whimpered. He froze, panicking that she had woken up, but she just turned onto her tummy, tucking her face into the material of her pillow and sighed. He was pleased to see that after a while she stopped shivering so badly.
He walked quickly back across the room and discarded his clothes, leaving them once again in a small heap on the floor by his bed. Hermione hadn't got very far with making his bed, and although he could easily do it with magic, Severus really couldn't be bothered, so he just picked up a blanket and a pillow and lay down on the bare mattress in his boxer shorts with them.
He closed his eyes tiredly, but found it hard to sleep. He was far too aware of Hermione's presence in the room with him. Although she had stopped crying out in her sleep, she was snuffling occasionally in a manner that reminded Severus of a baby animal.
Too exhausted to stay awake any longer, Severus eventually drifted off to sleep after lying in bed for nearly two hours, Hermione's soft sounds lulling him to sleep.