a/n - Oh my…the holidays are such a treat. Is "treat" Icelandic for "pain in the…ah well, I seem to be wandering off point. Somehow, I've managed to complete this chapter and deviate from the original outline entirely. This one has officially taken on a life of its own. I'm as interested to see where it's going as you are, assuming of course that you're interested. :) There is definitely one more chapter, maybe another if the epilogue won't fit. Then again, who knows. I'm done speculating. Anyway, thank you all for the reviews again! Unbelievable as always! I'll leave you to the next chapter of this saga. Feel free to guess who voiced the line--you'll know what I mean later. NO PEEKING! Enjoy and Happy Holidays!

>

Chapter 12

A new specter haunting her sleep, Hermione awoke in the early morning hours having truly fallen asleep on Snape's shoulder this time. She removed his arms gingerly and got a blanket to cover him before attending to a pressing need for the bathroom. Not feeling near tired enough to return to sleep, she slipped on a t-shirt and prepared the ever imperative morning coffee. She took a cup and snuggled into her favorite spot on the sofa, happy to steal some time to think.

The previous evening's exploits flashed brightly in her mind as she watched over Snape in his slumber, his face shuddering now and again as he waded through the web of some unknown vision. Mercifully one less troubling than her own, she hoped.

Last evening when she attempted to start conversation, he failed to answer and she knew right away that he was asleep. She was about to wake him until her mind teemed with all the ways to go about doing so. Still mildly shocked by her own behavior, she knew it was something about him that permitted her to ignore her inhibitions. He made her feel allowed, for a surprising lack of a better word. Words, she thought cynically, could cause more trouble than not sometimes. For instance, when she expressed her need for him, the word 'need' had started its journey as 'love'. Revising at the last second, she used his word not wanting to throw such a loaded term as 'love' at a man who seemed to choose his words so meticulously. Although, when he said 'need' it definitely sounded a hell of a lot like 'love' to her.

Nonetheless, if all went well he would be leaving soon and that was weighing heavily upon her. There was supposed to be plenty of time to figure everything out, but if the potion restored Harry's health Snape would surely be going home. Her subconscious wasn't helping matters either, showing her a vision that left much to the imagination. In the dream, Snape had gone missing and she sought urgently for him, but found his apartment empty and cast in a sinister darkness, one word traced in the condensation on the massive windows and backlit by the amber streetlights.

"NO"

Unsettling as it was, she ignored any underlying meaning while her mind twisted with questions. Should she ask him to stay for a while? Should she go with him? Should she allow some distance? Everything was happening so fast from every viewpoint, leaving little leeway for decision-making. This situation was no different from anything else in her life. She wanted to know everything about it and she didn't enjoy batting around all of the at the moment unanswerable questions.

Asking him to stay was a dilemma of its own. Snape hadn't exaggerated the reaction of the public after his release. She could clearly remember the stark contrast of attitudes in the community. Either people were glad to see him free, or they were outraged because of it. For the first month, one could hear the same conversation in almost every wizarding pub--and the dark corners of many a muggle tavern. Did Severus Snape deserve to be free, they all asked. Unfortunately, the facts that most people were familiar with were sketchy at best and had gone the rounds enough times that they were skewed one way or another. Yet over the last couple of months, the talk had diminished. Proof positive was the reaction of the hospital staff. Most were more than pleased to meet Snape, even if he didn't care to meet them. Hermione tried to convince herself that the community at large had moved on as well.

Realizing her thoughts were digressing, she took a sip of now cold coffee and checked the clock. Somehow, she had wiled away two hours lost in meditation meaning that the sun was surely up. Wishing she had windows in her living room, she decided to shower and dress, choosing a crimson sweater and her favorite pair of jeans since she wouldn't be on the clock at the hospital. After pulling back her hair with a few clips, she made a beeline for a fresh cup of coffee. As she poured, Snape stirred and turned a squinted eye in her direction.

"Good morning," she giggled, filling the other mug she had set aside for him.

"Morning?" he groaned, sinking down and out of sight onto the sofa.

Laughing, she carried the cups to the coffee table and found a corner of cushion he hadn't yet splayed across.

"You're chipper," she teased.

His eyes shut tight he grumbled, "I can't believe I spent the night sitting up, though I can by the pain in my neck." Stretching languidly, one eye opened half way. "You look excellent," he said slowly.

"Thank you," she replied with a grin. "It's my day off so I don't have to wear that ridiculous uniform."

"But I so like the uniform," he almost pouted as the other eye finally joined the other. "But only when you're wearing half of it, the bottom half if I recall." A grin spread across his face as he sat up, groaning as he did so. "It seems my back has made my neck feel better by comparison."

"A hot shower will do you wonders," she coaxed.

He grinned as he stood, wrapping the blanket around his waist, "So does sleeping horizontal to the floor."

She smirked before tugging playfully at the blanket, surprised when it fell into her lap leaving him quite exposed. Expecting him to keep a tighter hold, the flush was undeniable as it rose in her cheeks.

"Sorry," she offered as she tried to sustain eye contact.

"No matter," he said, obviously amused as he took the cup she had brought for him. "I don't know why I bothered." He laughed quietly and kissed the top of her head before heading toward the bathroom tranquilly sipping his coffee.

Her mind remained engaged with his stately physique until he disappeared, plunging her back into the previous ruminations. She tried to pass the time by reading, but the book failed to hold her attention. Instead, she ended up leaning on the kitchen counter in front of the open book, staring at the last dregs at the bottom of her umpteenth cup. Having no plans for the day, she thought that perhaps an early lunch and a quick trip to Diagon Alley would allow time for her to ask him what his intentions were. Although, she knew it had less to do with time and more to do with working up the nerve to ask, besides the fact that going to Diagon Alley could be a problem all its own. She was so preoccupied with the brownish cloud and her thoughts that she didn't know Snape had returned until his voice broke her concentration.

"I believe I am finally on par to kiss you."

The smile at his voice was inescapable. "You did kiss me," she replied to the book.

"Not like this," he answered, putting his hands on her hips.

The touch prompted impulse, her body circling to him eagerly. He caught her lips the moment she turned, his skin still humid from the shower. She recognized right away that this kiss was different. He slid his hands under her sweater and trailed his fingertips across the small of her back while he tenderly perused her lips. The sweetness of the kiss was startling enough that she was focusing far too much on why. Although he had never been particularly rough, this time he was markedly gentle and it unnerved her with all the questions already swirling in her mind.

He pulled away, smiling before stepping to the coffee pot, leaving her there to catch her breath and take in his choice of clothing. While quite pleasing, a black knit sweater and slightly faded jeans added to the growing mountain of questions.

"Where did you get those clothes?" she asked, realizing immediately it sounded like an accusation.

He raised both eyebrows before answering, "It's an incredible thing called transfiguration." His brows returned to normal as he grinned, "Incidentally, I owe you several towels."

She laughed, "I'll pick up some while we're out."

"Out where?" he asked.

"I thought we could spend the day in London before we head off to the hospital," she stated rather than suggested.

It was impossible to miss the sarcasm as he said, "I have seen London before. Has it changed radically while I was away?"

"No," she giggled. "But we do need to eat and London still has a few restaurants we both may be willing to dine in."

"I wouldn't be so sure," he teased from behind hooded eyes, apparently mulling over the idea. Finally, he nodded, "We may as well. What part of town do you recommend?"

She smiled, "Wouldn't you like to know."

Confident why she wasn't telling him and still confident that everything would be fine, the plan that was merely abstract earlier was now complete. She would take him to Diagon Alley to prove that people had moved on from the Voldemort mess and at the same time showing him that there would be nothing to lose by returning to London, which was in her best interest. It was a simple plan and she knew from experience that those were always the ones to go wrong, but she had a limited amount of time and worrying was getting her nowhere.

He agreed when she suggested they walk and after allowing him a few minute to finish another cup they left. Their walk went uninterrupted until they were nearly to The Leaky Cauldron.

"Exactly where are we going?" he inquired.

"There are a few books I need to pick up," she answered simply. "It'll only take a moment."

He stopped walking quite abruptly. "Forgive me, but I don't think I should join you."

She had anticipated as much. "Don't be silly."

"I'm not…the last time I was there…" he replied lowly, an edge to his voice as he failed to finish the sentence.

She sighed before trying again, "Look, no one will even recognize you. I wouldn't if I didn't already know you so well."

Her cajoling seemed to do the trick. His expression relaxed, he nodded and let her take his arm before they entered the pub.

The Leaky Cauldron was deceptively empty, giving Hermione a false confidence about the state of Diagon Alley. When the archway opened there were hordes of people clamoring down the street. Crossing her fingers, she stepped determinedly onto the street arm and arm with Snape, hopeful that the crowd had the sense to recognize the truth or the sense enough to keep their notions to themselves.

To avoid becoming a liar, she led them first to Flourish and Blotts, where she had to inspect the merchandise for books she actually wanted and didn't already own. Snape stayed close by, commenting tersely on a few of her selections but otherwise remaining oddly silent.

"Isn't there anything you want?" she asked after nearly twenty minutes while they looked at some used books in the back.

"To leave," he answered promptly, his eyes confirming that he wasn't joking.

"All right," she answered, unsure why he seemed so uncomfortable.

When she put down the book however, she noticed the faces peering around the bookcases and over the stacks whispering to their companions. Her heart sank at the thought of those people staring them down the entire time they were in the store. She looked to Snape who only shrugged as he continued to avoid the stares, probably trying to prevent a confrontation. Having seen enough, Hermione turned to address the onlookers.

"Hello there," she called to them, anger rising rapidly into her stomach. "I don't see a piano or a curtain and we're most certainly not standing on a stage so if you're waiting for us to start dancing or singing, you're out of luck." Looking back to Snape, she added, "I think you're right. We should leave."

Putting down the volumes she had planned to buy, she took his arm and headed through the stacks hiding the unwavering voyeurs. A very long few seconds later and they were standing in front of the store.

"Why didn't you say anything to me?" she asked him before she felt the tap on her shoulder. She turned toward the interruption, which happened to be an older woman wearing an obscenely large maroon hat with a very realistic bat at the very top. "Yes?" Hermione asked the woman snappishly, wishing to return her focus to Snape.

"Do you know who this man is?" the woman asked in a haughty, shrill tone.

"Yes," Hermione answered, immediately suspicious of the woman's point.

The old woman snorted before saying, "Then you of all people should know what he did and here you are gallivanting around with him. You should be ashamed of yourself!"

The anger was returning in infuriated waves. "Who are you to judge either on of us?" Hermione exclaimed. "Were you in residence under your rock when he was pardoned?"

"That was a travesty of justice if you ask me," the woman scowled. "The man who killed Albus Dumbledore…off scot-free. Severus Snape is a murderer any way you look at it and he deserves the same end as the rest of the lot…"

Hermione chose that moment to interrupt, "Well I didn't ask and you obviously have no idea what you're babbling about."

"Young lady, you will not speak to me that way." Much to Hermione's pleasure, the old lady seemed to be offended.

After a mirthless laugh Hermione replied, "I will speak to you however I wish, especially if you plan to attack this man. You owe him your gratitude…"

The old woman snorted again, "I owe my thanks to Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter," Hermione emphasized, "would be dead if not for this man, as would I, as would an army of people. Harry Potter may have killed Voldemort, but he would have never been able to without Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape. That is what the history books should say but until people like you get a clue they never will." When Hermione finished, she realized she was breathing heavily, the anger progressing to unwilling pity for the old woman gaping at her. "If you'll excuse us," Hermione said softly, "I think we'd both like to leave."

She turned to leave but stopped short, confined and bewildered by the crowd of people that had gathered.

"Do any of you have anything to say?" she asked sharply, heartened by the back step the crowd took in response. "Good. Now please get the hell out of the way."

The crowd parted as instructed and Hermione took the journey fuming with indignation. They passed through the archway and the pub before she had calmed enough to talk or even look at Snape who had remained extraordinarily silent.

Back on the muggle street, she asked, "Can you believe those people?"

"Yes," he replied softly. "They have every right."

Stunned yet again, she looked up into his resigned face. "Have you lost your mind?"

"No," he answered with a sigh. "Nothing will change their opinion and likely nothing should."

"You have lost your mind then," she stated in exasperation.

"To them I will always be Albus' murderer, just as Harry will always be their savior," he affirmed in near whisper. "You know more than they what I'm guilty of, so you should recognize why I tolerate it."

"Tolerate it? You ran away from it," she asserted. "You didn't even try to defend yourself back there." The reason occurred to her, clear as a cloudless sky. "You think you deserve it," she declared. The sudden shift of his eyes to the concrete confirmed it.

In a low voice he said, "I don't want to have this discussion here."

"No problem. I don't like to yell in public," she replied.

He met her eyes then and she knew she'd crossed a line, but she wasn't going to stand aside while he deprecated himself into a mental institution. Taking hold of his arm, she Apparated them both directly into her apartment. It wasn't a method used often, but it was essential this time.

"Why are you upset with me?" he inquired as soon as they appeared in her bedroom. In her hurry, she had over shot the living room by a bit.

"Because you're being an idiot," she avowed.

His expression rapidly became aggravated, his brow furrowed and his eyes piercing.

Before he could react, she elaborated, "Because you're allowing those people's ignorance to personify your own self-loathing. That's the idiotic part." Her voice was growing louder as she spoke and she was afraid she was nearing another impassioned lecture so she paused to think.

"That's why you're yelling?" he asked quietly.

"Yes!" She paced to the bed and sat but stood up quickly.

Unable to settle her nerves, she continued the path into the living room. She turned to pace back but Snape had followed and she nearly walked straight into him. Taking a deep breath, she tried to launch into the speech she was trying to avoid, but he interrupted. He was clearly angry and she was worried she had again pushed too far.

"I robbed people of their lives Hermione, plain and simple. Don't challenge me for grieving that."

"You can grieve it all you like," she stated, "but don't seek out validation of your…remorse. Everyone's done things they aren't proud of and everyone has to choose between wallowing and bettering themselves. You made mistakes--perhaps the most awful mistakes--but you did what you could to make up for them and in my estimation you have."

He gave a skeptical chuckle, "On what do you base that estimation?"

"You saved the world…isn't that good enough?" She took a shaky breath. "If it isn't then nothing ever will be."

After heaving a great sigh he asked, "Why is this so important to you?"

"Because you're important to me," she answered readily. "I'm sorry I dragged you to Diagon Alley, but I needed to know..."

He interrupted again, "To those people I am a memory of a horrible time that they would rather forget. I'd rather forget myself, but I have to live with what I've done." He raised a steady hand to her cheek. "I am so very glad you think enough of me to take offence, but please understand why I don't. Furthermore, I didn't run away. I got on with what was left of my life. Surely you can understand that."

"Yes but…?" she protested but he stroked her cheek and she couldn't help but fall silent.

Before the conversation could continue, a loud knock at the door rudely disrupted it.

Snape chuckled, "That boy needs a hobby."

"I'll get rid of him," she said, more than irritated.

Smirking, Snape moved toward the sofa while she went to see what Ron wanted this time, except that it was her turn to be surprised.

"Elijah?" she said upon opening the door to see the harassed looking face of her friend.

"May I come in?" he asked hurriedly.

"Of course."

Elijah moved past her quickly, the door barely shut when he said, "We don't have much time. Miriam Windbag…I mean Windom, has become aware of Severus' work at the hospital and she's furious. She's petitioning for your immediate dismissal."

"What?" Hermione asked, only vaguely recognizing the name.

Elijah sighed before answering, "It seems that after your little chat in front of the bookstore she made a few inquiries at the hospital. James Flannigan was more than willing to spill his smarmy guts to the old windbag."

"What does this have to do with Hermione?" asked Snape, rattling Hermione who was unaware that he had joined them.

After a labored roll of the eyes, Elijah explained, "Miriam Windom sits on the hospital board and she contributes a fair amount of money as well. Whatever she says usually goes. More importantly, she has a pair of curse breakers trying to get into the potions lab as we speak. She's convinced herself you're up to something illegal."

Swimming under the news, Hermione asked, "Does this woman wear a big, gaudy hat with a bat on it?"

"That's her," Elijah replied. "She summoned me to ask about the legality of firing you under the circumstances. I've stalled her because she doesn't have a leg to stand on as long as whatever you two are making in that lab isn't illegal."

Nearly hyperventilating, Hermione found she was unable to comment. Luckily, Snape stepped in.

"Did you say something about curse breakers?" Snape asked.

Elijah laughed softly, "Yes. Thalonius Cleary tipped me off when I got to the hospital and I had just enough time to ward the doors before the old harpy showed up. Am I now an accessory to anything?"

"Yes," Snape answered. "It's Fecund."

"Oh dear," Elijah sighed. "It is for a medicinal purpose, right?"

"It's for Harry," Snape replied evenly. "And if they tamper with the elixir it'll be useless."

Astounded that they could both be so damn calm, Hermione tried to tell them as much but her voice came out in a pinched hum.

"Hermione," Snape said when he looked down, taking hold of her shoulders. "You need to calm down."

She gave a sarcastic nod, not needing him to state the obvious.

He laughed softly, stepping forward and pulling her against his chest. The rumble of his voice diverted her attention. "We will stun them or distract them with an aria if we have to, but they will not destroy our work."

The embrace serving to settle her, Hermione asked, "But what if that woman has you arrested?"

Snape's laugh worked to calm her further as he said, "I didn't escape from prison. They released me fair and square."

She laughed, "I meant because of the Fecund."

"I know," he replied. "Now, shall we go?"

"Yes," she replied before looking to Elijah.

"I'll do what I can," he said.

Hermione was glad to know Elijah was on their side. Snape pulled her tighter for the Apparition and she tried to prepare for whatever might await them. It was suddenly clear to her that it didn't matter if she still had a job. She could find another one of those readily enough. Above all, Hermione was afraid of the assault she was liable to commit against that crone in the preposterous hat if she tried to send Snape back to jail.

>

The thankfully quick trip landed them right outside the entrance of the hospital. It was dangerous taking them directly there, but they didn't have time for covert operations.

Snape strode purposefully through the barrier behind Hermione and Elijah followed them both. More than one person stopped to stare at their procession as they climbed to the fourth floor. Snape struggled not to chuckle as they traversed the halls, thinking that he had known the second he stepped into Diagon Alley that this would be a trying day, and that he should have expected it to get worse.

As they turned down the appropriate corridor, Snape did chuckle at the gaggle of people assembled outside the door to the laboratory, that ridiculous hat hovering above the lot.

"Well, if it isn't the happy couple," the trill voice of Miriam Windom cut through the din like shards of glass as she pushed her way to the edge of the throng. "Have you come to meet your fate head-on, Miss Granger?"

"No," Hermione answered. "We've come to stop you."

The old woman smiled coldly as she said, "Unlock these doors girl before your career comes to a screeching halt."

Laughing, Hermione replied, "I can't. I didn't set the wards. And I quit, by the way, so you can take that threat off the table."

Shocked, Snape said, "Hermione don't."

"She'll sack me anyway," Hermione stated matter-of-factly. "Besides, what good would it do to kiss her moldy backside?"

Snape stifled the laugh, "None I suspect." He turned his attention to the now livid woman in the flapping hat. "Those men may as well stop. Those wards are not coming down until the potions mature, which will be in roughly six hours."

"You most certainly will not tell me what to do," Mrs. Windom commanded roughly.

"Would you rather be held responsible for the death of Harry Potter?" Snape asked.

"Are you threatening his life?" she screeched.

"No, you are," Snape replied in frustration. "One of those potions may well help him, but we won't know until they mature which is why the damn door is locked."

Just then, Elijah stepped forward. "Mrs. Windom, perhaps you should speak with Harry before taking any further action."

"But the boy can hardly speak," she scoffed.

"Yes," Hermione exclaimed, "and it's a shame he never learned to write you bloody inconsiderate…" Snape's hand cut short her rant.

He chuckled at the surprised look on her face as he lowered his hand and bent slightly to speak quickly close to her ear, "Perhaps we should refrain from insulting her intelligence, moral aptitude, appearance, or any fashion of her backside until this is over."

Hermione smiled at him before saying, "But I could have a field day with that hat."

"As could we all," Snape replied before shifting his attention back to the fuming old woman. "Do what you must, but I will not allow anyone to jeopardize Harry's life and I assure you, no one is getting through those doors just yet."

Snape drew his wand and pointed it at the doors. Nearly every person in the corridor flinched as two fluffy armchairs materialized along side the double doors of the potions lab.

"You'll know where to find us," Snape told Elijah who nodded his understanding.

"Mrs. Windom," Elijah said, "I'm sure Harry would be more than happy to tell you his thoughts on the matter."

"I don't see what difference it will make," Mrs. Windom replied. "Clearly they're hiding something. Can't I have them arrested?"

"This is a publicly funded facility and they are well within the bounds of the law. They have expressed no knowledge of who locked the doors so we are just going to have to wait." Elijah offered his arm to the old woman before adding, "You should pass some of that time talking to Harry."

"Fine," Mrs. Windom conceded as she took his arm. "But this isn't over." She waved a wrinkled hand at the curse breakers as she said, "Thank you for coming boys. Your services have been disappointing to say the least. You may leave for now. Everyone else, come with me."

Snape was pleased to hitch up the reliable sneer as the group filed down the hall in her wake. The curse breakers trailed behind and Snape was sure he heard the world hag mumbled more than once as they walked by.

Looking to Hermione, Snape found her staring blankly at the recently conjured chairs.

"You'll get your job back," Snape assured.

"I don't care about the job," she sighed. "I never really wanted to be a healer anyway."

"Then what's troubling you?" he asked.

"If I could have kept my mouth shut none of this would be happening." Shaking her head, she strode to one of the armchairs and sank into it.

Snape took the other as he said, "Nor if I had stopped you, which I am more than capable of doing."

Smiling suddenly, she turned an interested eye upon him. "Why didn't you stop me?"

Snape laughed, thinking he should have chosen another comparison. "I'll admit I felt a hint of pride hearing you…defend me so vehemently."

She was still gazing with rapt focus, opening and closing her mouth several times before finally asking, "Do you want to be with me?"

He chuckled lightly, caught off guard by the blunt question. "If you've been conscious the last few days you should already know the answer to that."

"Humor me," she said with a tentative smile. "This could be over soon and…I want to know…I need to know why."

Aware that he always had trouble saying such things and wondering why she chose now to discuss the issue, he checked the hall for eavesdroppers before locking onto her eyes. If he was going to go to the trouble of saying it aloud, he was going to know her reaction.

After a deep breath, he said, "If I'd…" It was starting already, the confounding trouble stringing words together, afraid of revealing too much. "…If I'd known…" He blamed it on all the years as a spy, but he had dealt with it long before then. It was nearly painful, though not nearly as painful as listening to his own stammering. "You were…" Increasingly annoyed with himself, he elected to spit it out as fast as possible on the next try without thinking about it first. "As you were kind enough to point out, I can be an idiot at times but I would have to go completely mad to walk away from you. You're everything I wish I were and incredibly more than I'll ever be worthy of but I'm yours to be had as long as you'll have me."

Mildly astounded he survived the effusion and mildly disgusted with himself for exploiting her trust with Legilimency, he dreaded her unaffected response. Having pushed very delicately into her mind, he could only ready the most powerful of emotions. The unquestionable emotion he encountered was tremendous and wholly implausible, so much so that when she kissed him he forgot he was in a public hallway where anyone could walk by. He returned the kiss enthusiastically as though life itself depended on it, and something told him that in a way it did. Transported by his discovery, he would have chosen to lose himself in that moment if not for the untimely--though not altogether unexpected--intrusion.

"Severus? What are you doing to that poor girl?"