Hermione had to admit that when Severus called Harry 'the most aggravating person he had ever had the misfortune of talking to, His Lordship and Lucius Malfoy included' he had a point. Although to be scrupulously fair to Harry she had never had the opportunity to have a prolonged conversation with either of those people, so that conclusion could only be described as tentative.
She had no reason to suppose it was erroneous.
She had duly invited Harry and Ron out for a drink, which Severus had declined to attend. So far, so good. She hadn't really thought that his presence was going to help matters, but thought she ought to invite him anyway. If she invited him, she felt sure that he would sneer magnificently and refuse to attend; if she didn't invite him, he would sneak around behind her back and then turn up anyway.
She didn't think that Harry would be keen to help take out His Lordship if he realised that one of the incidental benefits would be improving Severus' sex life, and therefore kept a discreet silence over her nascent relationship with him.
This turned out to be a wise move. Time had done nothing to dull the two boys' dislike of Severus, and the first fifteen minutes of their evening was spent with them reminiscing about their worst detention with the Greasy Git.
"Do you remember the time he had us chopping up those bubotubers?" one would say, and then they would be off in some bizarre competition to see who had had the nastiest experience.
Harry won of course. Hermione hadn't even been allowed to enter, on the basis that she'd never had detention with Snape. Ron had been made a brave attempt for the title with a tale of being forced to spend three hours in the company of Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson and Colin Creevey cleaning the Potions Classroom floor with a toothbrush, but was disqualified on the not unreasonable ground that it had never happened.
"You spent the evening watching Draco and Pansy snogging, and placing bets with Creevey as to how long they could go without breathing," Harry said indignantly.
Ron shrugged; it was worth a try. "You can't deny that it could have happened though," he said.
"Well, that's true. He was enough of a bastard to make you do it," Harry agreed, and then they raised their glasses in a toast to all those poor sods still at Snape's mercy.
Hermione opened the main business of the evening with a general query as to how 'things' were going.
Harry adopted a serious expression, that made Hermione wonder if he had piles. "Well, of course, I shouldn't really talk to you about it, but we're really quite pleased with things."
Hermione swallowed the bitter words about her being a full member of the Order, and what about all the adventures they had had together, and who had been pulling their chestnuts out of the fire all these years, and who the hell did they think they were, and merely made a brave attempt to look supportive and concerned, whilst mentally revising a list of hexes appropriate to the situation.
Not crucio, she reminded herself. No matter how irritating the pair of them got, not crucio. Besides it was illegal.
"Going well?" she said mildly, adding mentally, 'in what radically altered sense of the word, were things going well? His Lordship was still alive, Lucius Malfoy was still on the loose, and she was stuck teaching at Hogwarts.' She wasn't sure which of the three was the worst.
Harry nodded. "We've taken several Death Eaters into custody over the last couple of months, and we're getting close to working out where He-who-must-not-be-named is hiding out."
Or, she thought, you could just ask Smudger, or even Severus, who knew exactly where His Lordship could be found – at least on the last Friday of the month. "Hmmmm?" she said noncommittally. "And what will you do when you work that out?"
"Well, obviously we will reconnoitre the area, and then we can form an opinion on what would be the best tactic moving forward."
"I'm sorry," Hermione said abruptly. "Reconnoitre? Form an opinion? What on earth happened to the Harry I used to know? The Harry who used to rush into things, who used to get things sorted out?"
"That was the old Harry," he said regretfully. "Now, I'm a trained Auror and I know how things should be done. We can't keep on acting as if we were children. That's what they keep telling me, anyway. All I seem to get these days is paperwork. I don't know, I never thought being an Auror would be so dull. The most excitement I had last week was managing to turn my report on the Strangleton investigation into a paper Owl that flew round my office for nearly ten minutes. I was hoping it was going to crap on Shacklebolt's head, but it wasn't to be."
Hermione stared at Harry for a moment. What on earth were the Ministry filling his head with, to make him think that he had to behave like an accountant. He was supposed to be an Auror, for heaven's sake, and run round saving people, not sit at a desk and write reports. "What if I told you that I knew where His Lordship would be in a fortnight's time, and that I had come up with a plan that would take most of the Inner Circle somewhere else for the evening, giving you the best opportunity for years to sort this out once and for all?"
Harry blinked. "Really? Why haven't we heard about this?"
"Well, I thought you should be the first to know. I haven't even told Dumbledore about it. It's just you, me, Minerva and Severus. And our secret contact, Mr Smith."
"Oooh, Severus," Harry interrupted. "First name terms already."
Hermione flushed, but mercifully the boys didn't notice.
Ron was wrinkling his nose up, always a sign he was thinking. "I think there was some mention last year of old Snapey suggesting that the time was ripe to move against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Nothing came of it though."
"Why? I mean, he's out there risking life and limb to find out the weak spots, and then he's being ignored," spluttered Hermione indignantly, trying very hard not to think about the darts matches.
"Well, it's obvious isn't it? Snape has been coming back for years with these tales of He-who-must-not-be-named being at such-and-such a place, or being vulnerable on this day or that day, and no one has ever taken it seriously. It's too easy. Removing He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is supposed to be difficult, and demanding and involve lots of sneaking around and danger and useless sacrifice. It's not supposed to be achieved by sneaking up on him and hexing him from behind. That isn't heroic at all." Ron waved a hand dismissively.
"Surely Dumbledore has been pressing for action?" Hermione couldn't believe that the Ministry was being so stupid.
Ron shuffled uneasily on his seat, and prepared to deliver the bad news. "Not really. It's a bit odd really," he said. "I mean there are people at the Ministry who think that Dumbledore is a bit of a loose cannon anyway, so I'm not sure it would have made any difference, but even he has been less than supportive of Snape recently. The general feeling is that even Dumbledore is beginning to doubt his loyalty. And since Harry is the only person who can defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, it's vital that he isn't risked."
Hermione snorted. "So basically, we've been sitting around waiting for you to do something, and all you've been doing is sitting around waiting for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to be delivered to you wrapped in a parcel with pink ribbon tied round his neck, and only if the person delivering the parcel isn't Severus Snape. At this rate, you'll still be waiting when you get your pension!"
Harry sighed. "You're not joking."
"Surely you're getting bored with all this hanging around? God knows, I am," Hermione replied with exasperation.
They nodded.
"You know," Ron said thoughtfully, "I've always thought old Shacklebolt was a bit of an old lady. If he had his way, we'd never do anything."
"Hmmmm," Harry said. It wasn't a non-committal hmmm, it was a thoughtful hmmm, verging on being an hmmm of agreement.
"We used to make such a good team," Ron added.
"And we used to have so much fun," Hermione added.
"We did," Harry said, with a flash of his old mischievousness.
"So, don't you think we should do something about it?" Hermione added.
"We-ell," Harry said, weakening and exchanging meaningful glances, before they nodded again. It made more sense to them that they should go and sort out He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named because they were bored, than because the time was tactically right. "Alright, tell me what your plan is? It can't do any harm to just hear you out, can it?"
Ron grinned. "None at all. After all, it's positively our duty to do so."
Hermione swiped a couple of beer mats from the table next to them and began laying them out on the table. "Right," she said briskly. "It appears His Lordship is holed up in an old house in the middle of nowhere. Now, usually there are several members of the Inner Circle all hanging around the place, kissing his feet and telling him he's wonderful. We've got an inside man, who can order them all to go away, and they will. Not only that, but he can leave the back door open for us."
"So then all I have to do is creep up behind He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, shout oi, and then hex him," Harry said.
"Why shout oi?" Hermione asked.
"Well, he's not about to hex him in the back, now is he?" said Ron reasonably. "It's not Gryffindor, is it?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, but said nothing. Maybe it was a girl thing, but she was quite prepared to hex people from behind. It seemed to her to be the best time to do it. Perhaps she was spending too much time with Severus?
"What does Dumbledore say about this?" asked Ron.
"I haven't mentioned it to him," Hermione said, playing with her beer mat.
"Really?" said Harry. "You mean you're going behind his back?"
Hermione nodded.
"Well, that settles it, doesn't it?" Harry grinned. "Count me in."
"I give you a toast," Hermione said, raising a glass. "The three musketeers!"
"What?" asked Ron, halting the movement of his glass halfway to hers.
"The Three Musketeers?" Hermione looked at both boys' blank faces and sighed. "They're people from a Muggle book. There were three of them – obviously – and their motto was 'all for one and one for all'. I thought it was appropriate."
"Oh. Oh right then. The Three Musketeers!" There was a clink as three glasses met in salute. "Than Hermione can come clean on exactly why she's on first name terms with Severus Snape," Ron said.
Hermione was grateful she didn't have a mouthful of drink when he said that. It looked like she had a lot of explaining to do. She signalled to the barmaid to bring another round of drinks; some things were best seen through a haze of alcohol.
Severus was waiting up for Hermione, which was sweet. He was waiting for her at the gates of Hogwarts, which was potentially awkward, as the boys had escorted her that far. Fortunately, the boys were almost as inebriated as Hermione, so, when they came face to face with their arch-nemesis, they merely giggled inanely whilst elbowing each other in the ribs.
Hermione tried to shush them, whilst trying not to giggle herself.
"Oooh," said Ron. "You're in trouble now."
"Miss Granger," Severus said, "is not in trouble. She has clearly been lead astray by you two reprobates, as happened so often in the past."
The boys sniggered again.
"It's true," Hermione said with great dignity. "I blame you. You were the ones who insisted on drinking depth charges."
"Depth charges?" asked Severus.
"You put a shot glass of Firewhiskey in the bottom of a pint of beer, and then drink it," Hermione explained.
"Good god." Severus was impressed that they were still standing after that, and made a mental note to suggest it to The Lads one evening, especially if they were being particularly fractious about something. It seemed to reduce the most difficult people to shambling idiots who would consequently be easier to order around, and any edge was welcome when dealing with The Lads.
"Night, night," Hermione slurred, kissing both boys on the cheek, which seemed to Severus to be unnecessarily friendly, and then watched them wobble off into the distance.
"Dear god," Severus said, "is that what we are relying on to save the Wizarding World?"
"Well they will be sober on the night," Hermione pointed out. "And why on earth were you calling me Miss Granger?"
Severus looked uncomfortable. "I didn't know whether you'd told your friends about us."
"Of course I did. They know you're my boyfriend."
Severus snorted. "Aren't I a little old to be someone's boyfriend?"
"No. You're just the right age." Hermione looked up at him earnestly. "Now, are you going to help me into bed?"
"Indeed. I've even brought a vial of Hangover Potion for you."
"You're such a sweetie."
"I do hope you didn't tell the boys that."
"Don't worry, they wouldn't believe me anyway. You did teach them for seven years."
Severus considered the matter. He'd deducted points at will, he'd given arbitrary detentions, and he'd always favoured Slytherins. His reputation was safe, even if he was openly civil to Hermione. Though, when Hermione slipped her hand into his, he did check that they were unobserved; there was no point taking risks.
The Lads would never let him hear the end of it.
Hermione was happy. She was, not to put too fine a point on it, disgustingly happy.
She found that being disgustingly happy made Hogwarts seem almost bearable. She wasn't precisely singing happy songs as she moved round the castle, but she was aware that she had a tendency to break out into big grins for no apparent reason, even in the middle of lessons, which did have the advantage of unnerving still further an already fairly cowed student population.
It was proving increasingly difficult to snarl properly at Albus in staff meetings – not that it ever made him reconsider any of his foolish whims, but it was expected that a teacher would make the effort. There were disapproving looks being thrown her way, and mutterings that she was Letting the Side down, which was rich coming from a set of colleagues who'd taken advantage of her naivety as a new teacher to make sure she had three Hogsmeade weekends in succession.
Bastards, the lot of them.
There was only one fly in the ointment – two, if you counted You-know-who – Albus was up to something. Or rather, he suspected that Minerva was up to something which may or may not involve Severus and Hermione.
On their return from the Cottage Albus had casually cornered Hermione in the Staff Room and started asking her awkward questions. Unprepared for the cross-examination that she was receiving, she knew she looked guilty as she stammered out a reply. She just hoped he'd assume it was about getting him to the altar rather than anything to do with His Lordship.
Consequently she was in a foul mood at lunch. A mood that was only added to by Minerva's comments about Hermione's brain turning to mush now she was in love. Hermione resented the implication. She was being thoroughly ignored for her pains, when she added, "And I just hope you come to your senses before Slytherin run away with the House Cup this year."
Hermione smiled vaguely, half her mind still on what to do about Albus. "It can't be that bad."
"Oh, yes it can," Minerva said severely. "While you've been wandering round with your head in the clouds, it's been business as usual with Severus and we're nearly 200 points behind."
There was a large lump in Hermione's throat, which seemed to sinking into the pit of her stomach.
Business as usual.
200 points!
But… but…
It was a very chastened Hermione who made her way to class. "Right you lot," she snarled, as her class filed in. "Settle down. Turn to Chapter Ten and start reading, and I don't want to hear a peep out of you before the end of the lesson."
The children were actually relieved to find a slightly grumpy Hermione teaching them again, rather than a Hermione who was away with the fairies; they knew where they were with a grumpy teacher. Unfortunately, to the grumpy teacher in question, the faint smiles of relief were indistinguishable from pitying smirks.
"Right. Ten points from Slytherin, and that's just for openers."
"But, Miss," protested one of the children, braver than its fellows.
"But Miss, nothing. The next one of you that even breathes out of turn will lose your House another five points." The message was received and understood, the children settled to their studies with bad grace, and Hermione was free to think in peace.
The more she thought about it, the more daft Minerva appeared.
She and Severus had discovered an attraction to each other that, given time, could well mature into love.
In the meantime, it wasn't as if Hermione had expected Severus to start smiling in public just because of her, though he did have a particularly sweet smile that turned her insides to jelly: that was reserved for her private consumption. Nor did she expect his teaching style to change – he hated the children, the children hated him, and potions still involved sharp implements and open flames, no amount of shagging was going to change that.
So, the more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that Minerva was allowing her entirely understandable anti-man prejudice to colour her thinking, and she and Severus did have a Relationship and that whatever was going on in Severus' head, though obscure, had a perfectly sensible explanation.
Such as, the fact he still had to pretend to be a Heartless Death Eater, which wouldn't be helped by one of the kiddies sending a note home to their father about how Severus was smiling in class. Or, maybe one of the little darlings had actually done something worth deducting all those points; it was bound to happen at some point, even if only on the same basis as the monkeys churning out Shakespeare. Whatever it was, it had nothing whatsoever to do with Severus Having Doubts about their relationship.
In the meantime, young Stebbins was breathing through his mouth, and that was worth five of any House's points. It was entirely coincidental that he was in Slytherin.
Hermione cried off Dinner with a Headache, and ordered a meal to be served in her quarters. If she had to see either Albus or Minerva tonight she might snap at them, so it was best to stay out of their way.
She hoped that Severus would be along to see her later and tell her what was bothering him. Hopefully, he wasn't going to be like the boys and keep her in the dark 'because they didn't want to worry her' so that she only had a couple of hours to sort out whatever mess they'd managed to get themselves into this time. She could only trust that he would confide in her eventually, before it became necessary to resort to extreme measures like actually asking him what was wrong. She knew how that would work out: several minutes of inarticulate grunting, then specious denials of there being Anything the Matter, followed up by accusations of nagging, and then, eventually when all other avenues were blocked, Coming Clean.
Severus knocked on her door after dinner – hardly the behaviour of someone who was regretting their relationship – and was greeted with a kiss on the cheek. "Come in," she said. "Would you like something to drink? Dobby has just got back from raiding Dumbledore's secret wine store. I can offer you a very fine port."
Severus made himself at home on the sofa, and turned that soft, secret smile on her. "That would be very pleasant." He put a small bottle on the side table. "I brought that with me, in case it was a real headache, and not an aversion to Dumbledore that was keeping you from eating in Hall."
"That's kind of you." She poured two glasses of wine, and handed one to him, before settling next to him.
"I do have an ulterior motive," he said, wrapping an arm round her.
"That sounds promising."
He smirked a little, but it was a half-hearted smirk at best. He leaned his head back against the sofa, and sighed. "Albus has been really getting on my nerves this last week. Are you sure I couldn't slip him some poison?"
Hermione patted him soothingly on his knee. "I've had an absolutely awful day of my own, and I refuse to deal with Albus until this" - she swirled the wine in her glass – "has had a chance to work its magic. Though I think we can leave Albus to Minerva, you know; I expect to see them tripping up the aisle within a fortnight of the fall of His Lordship, and then she'll have a whole lifetime to make him see the error of his ways." Severus' smirk grew a little more pronounced at that.
She settled back against his chest, and there was a companionable silence as they sipped their port. It was very good port that Albus kept for his, and the governors', private consumption. Dobby, though employed by the school, had decided that Hermione, as the nearest thing to Harry, needed to be cosseted and cared for, and would periodically raid the wine cellar or kitchen whenever Hermione looked especially unhappy.
She must have been looking extremely hacked off with life, to warrant raiding Albus' private cellar.
"I saw you'd been on a house point deduction spree. May I ask what Slytherins offended you this afternoon, and how? If one of them said anything out of turn, I'll hang him from the Astronomy Tower by his ears," he said affectionately.
Hermione twisted round to look at him. "You'd do that? For me?"
"Of course." He seemed surprised that she'd doubted it, and she felt mildly ashamed of herself. "Now tell me what happened?"
"Stebbins was breathing too loudly," she said, uncomfortable with quite how petty that sounded.
"Ah, one of those days," he said knowingly. "Albus?"
"Minerva."
"I won't ask." He wrapped a curl round her finger and tugged gently. "You've still got a long way to go before you catch up with the 150 points I deducted."
"Albus?"
"Yes." He frowned. "He's been particularly irritating of late. Remind me again; just why am I helping Potter?"
Hermione reached across him to put down her glass, then, since Severus was close at hand, she snuggled up to him. "Because you're sneaky and manipulative and you're using him to further your own ends: getting your evenings free of Meetings so you can spend more time drinking port in front of a fire with me, and getting your days free of Albus."
"Hmm, that does sound much likely, doesn't it?" He sighed again. "Though that is the heart of the problem: getting free of Albus."
Hermione sat bolt upright, nearly clipping Severus' chin with her head. "There isn't some sort of non-fraternisation clause is there? He's not suggesting we have to stop seeing each other, because if he is, I'll strangle him with his own beard."
"That's such a lovely idea; we might want to keep it in reserve." Hermione subsided against his chest again. "No, he was rather gloating on the fact that, since we were an item, you were stuck here forever."
"I don't see that that follows at all. I had planned on resigning as soon as possible after we remove He-who-must-not-be-named, and I thought you'd be doing the same. It's not as if you want to stay here, is it?"
Severus winced. "And that's the problem. You're only on a term's notice; I have to give a year's notice. Whatever happens I'm stuck here for the next eighteen months."
"Bloody hell. That's awful."
"Yes, and that's not the worst of it. I erm well I assume that you would wish to continue our ahem liaison once you'd left Hogwarts?" The question hung there, waiting to be answered. Hermione realised that in his own way Severus was seeking reassurance.
"Of course," she replied promptly.
"That's where the difficulties arise. Staff members aren't allowed to have overnight guests, so once you'd left Hogwarts it would become almost impossible for us to see each other. A fact Albus is relying on to keep you here."
"Well the bastard's right about that," she said. Severus conveyed his gratification at her sentiments in an entirely non-verbal but extremely satisfactory method, that nearly distracted her from the important issue of Their Future. "Hmmm, Lucius," she said, only to be released by Severus with such abruptness that she ended up on the floor.
"What did you say?" he thundered.
"Well, what I was trying to say, though I admit it may not have been clearly enunciated," she said, "was that what we needed to do was have a Little Word with Lucius in his capacity as Governor and see if we can persuade him to alter the rules. Either on your notice period, or the rules on overnight guests."
"And how do you propose we do that?" Severus asked, courteously helping Hermione to her feet, and brushing her down with great care. After all she had landed on her rear, so it was likely to be dusty.
"Dunno," she replied cheerfully. "I say we kidnap him first, hold him at wandpoint, and see what happens. He's bound to want to switch to the winning side, given half a chance."
"I suppose it might work."
"And if it doesn't we can always take a lock of his hair, Obliviate him, and leave him in a dark Alleyway somewhere."
"That has possibilities," Severus said thoughtfully. "It's the bare bones of a plan at least, and we can work out the finer details later. After all, there could be all sorts of ways in which Lucius can make himself useful to us."
Hermione was only slightly disappointed when Severus started looking for a piece of parchment and a quill to start making a list, rather than continuing with their previous occupation. Romance was all very well, but World Domination had to be a priority.