Snape stood in front of his mirror, buttoning his shirt and smoothing the wrinkles from the front of it. Turning his head slightly, he checked to see that the thin leather tie he had used to secure his hair in a loose ponytail was still in place.
This is ridiculous, you fool. Why are you concerned about your appearance?
After escorting Minerva back to her room, Severus had gone back out to continue his walk around the grounds. He had walked slowly, looking around him at times as though he had never seen his surroundings before. Someone watching him might have thought him lost; in reality, he felt as though he had finally found his way.
Freedom was a new animal for Severus Snape. He was not sure how to care for it or nurture it, and even less sure of what it could give back to him. His mind was littered with countless thoughts, ideas and questions: would he stay at Hogwarts? How could I leave? Was there something else that he should be doing with his life? My path has lead me here…I have done so much already. Was there a woman out there that could share his life with him? There was a woman, but she is no more. There will be no other.
He had meant what he had said to Minerva; he had no intention to ever again enter into a romantic relationship with a woman. He had been there once before, and because of it the woman he loved was dead…and while he knew that his physical being had survived, he was just as sure that his soul had died with her. Where his heart had once been, he now carried only the burden of guilt and desolation, and he had no intention of disrespecting the memory of his loved one by filling that void. Romantic passion had no place in Severus Snape's life - now or in the future.
Friendship however…now that was a different story. It was a luxury that a Death Eater could not afford, out of concern for himself, and a spy for the Order could not afford out of fear for others. He had known the true friendship of only three people in his life, and now two of them lay beyond the curtain. Tonight, the last of those three had reached out to him, and for that he would be eternally grateful. The Headmistress was right…he had been freed from the shackles that had imprisoned him for so long, and now his future was - wholly and finally - his. A ripple of excitement had run through him - foreign in itself, because it was not accompanied by an underlying current of fear. He could do whatever he wanted! Within reason, of course. But his interests, his desires, his dreams…they were all within reach now!
Starting tomorrow, I live life the way I want to. This time, for me.
And there was no use in denying the truth: Severus did not want to be alone anymore.
Yes, he was a man who enjoyed his solitude. He would always savor those quiet moments spent in his lab, preparing potions, or evenings spent in front of the fire with a glass of wine and a book. Now, however, he also wanted to know the pleasure of sharing a drink with a table of friends; of debating the uses of potions ingredients with someone who could hold up their own end of the argument; of discussing his favorite books with someone else who had read and appreciated them. He knew that working up to that type of lifestyle would take some time; after years of isolating himself from nearly everyone around him, he certainly didn't expect to walk the halls of Hogwarts the next day and greet everyone with a beaming grin. Nor did he want to! This transition would be gradual - he would make friends slowly, with those he deemed estimable.
Granger.
He had grimaced as he remembered the events of the evening, and he was not proud of his actions. He had treated Hermione as though she were an insignificant student…something that had never been true. In actuality, he had more respect for her than any other student he had ever taught, and this had only been heightened as they fought together against Voldemort. He had been aware of the way his Dark Magic had touched her during the battle, and was astonished at her ability to ward it off as easily as she had. He had felt a fierce pride for her at that moment.
Truth be known, he had felt overwhelmingly proud of the whole Golden Trio that day…but that was a fact that would go to his grave with him.
Hermione, he had realized, was everything that he would look for in his search for friends. She was brilliant, talented…
…beautiful…
…brave, strong…and he was quite sure that her days of being intimidated by him were over. He found that quality, in and of itself, to be particularly attractive.
He had been far too hasty in rebuffing her offer of amity. The memories she spawned of Lily were simply because of the similarities between the two witches; the situations would not be the same. The only relationship he wished to pursue with Hermione was companionship of the mind. He would never offer her his body, heart or soul, nor would he expect any of those from her.
Expect whatever you want, fool. You treated her like dung on the heel of your boot. Do you expect her to still be extending an olive branch?
Wincing, Severus had turned his eyes to the sky overhead. A shadowy form looped lazily toward the Owlery, and he had watched it thoughtfully for a few minutes before standing and heading back toward the school.
Hermione and Harry had stayed up talking late into the night. Sitting on opposite ends of her bed and sipping warm butterbeers (Gods bless the house-elves!), they had come to realize how much they had to say now that the fight with Voldemort was no longer hanging over their heads. Of course, they had discussed the war, and it had proven to be very therapeutic for both of them. There had been more laughter and more tears, and Hermione had found herself at times crying with the knowledge that their lives - so inextricably linked thus far - would now start traveling in different directions. At the end of the night, as Harry hugged her tightly, he whispered, "Please don't take this the wrong way, but this night has felt like…well, sort of like the end of something, you know?" Not trusting herself to speak, Hermione had nodded against his shoulder. With one final squeeze, and a soft kiss on the forehead, he had left.
As she had readied herself for bed, her thoughts returned to Severus. The anger she had harbored earlier had succumbed to the bittersweet finality of the night, and now all she felt was a tired resignation. She couldn't force the man to accept her friendship; she had put forth the offer, and that was all she could do.
It was a shame, though. When she looked at him, she had a feeling that the parts they played in each others' lives were not supposed to end just yet.
Which is why, when the owl arrived with his invitation the next morning, she accepted with no hesitation.
They met at the front door of the school, and Severus was immediately grateful when she waved aside his awkward attempt at explaining away his actions of the night before and smiled brightly. "Really, Severus, it's fine. I suppose I did blindside you a bit."
"It was rather unexpected," he chuckled, "but I was still unnecessarily hurtful." Not looking at her, he continued, "I should not have said what I did."
Realizing that this was as close to an apology as she would get, Hermione nodded. "Forgotten," she said simply. And, from that moment on, it was.
Severus found their trip to London to be more enjoyable than he had dared to hope. Each time he found himself glancing behind them, or raking the face of strangers with his eyes, he had to remind himself that this was not the way of his life anymore. The paranoia that had ruled him, the constant vigilance - he smirked to himself as an image of Mad-Eye Moody's outlandish face flitted through his mind - that had become as much a part of him as his breathing, was no longer needed.
This will take a great deal of getting used to.
Being with Hermione, he realized, would not. She kept up a steady stream of conversation, but he found that it was different from the annoying and superior prattling that she had been prone to as a student. Yes, she voiced her opinions on several different matters, but was just as quick to ask for his. She would listen intently to what he had to say, and if their points of view differed, they would argue good-naturedly. But she no longer worried the problem as a boarhound would with a bone. It was a brilliant change. Severus still felt a bit awkward; it had been years since he had had a conversation that didn't include a sizable amount of sarcasm on his part.
The bookstore that Severus had wanted to visit was spectacular. Named 'Fable Hall', it was a vast building with golden oak shelves filled with books, enormous windows to allow in natural light, and reading nooks set up randomly throughout with huge overstuffed sofas and mismatched coffee tables. A small counter at the front sold drinks, pastries and newspapers.
"Oh. Oh, Merlin!" Hermione whispered as they stood inside the doorway. Snape smiled; he had not doubted that she would enjoy this store. Her love of books rivaled - and truthfully, eclipsed - his own. The fact that he had brought such a look of rapture to her face caused a feeling of silly pride to flash through him.
I would like to show her so many things.
"I suppose it would make more sense for us to go look for the books we want on our own," he suggested. "Enjoy yourself."
As he turned to go, Hermione touched his arm lightly. "Wait," she said. He turned back to her, and she asked, "Why are we here at a Muggle bookstore? Surely the Potions texts that you use aren't available here?"
"Why, Miss Granger," he smirked, "I do have other interests and indulgences besides Potions and academia."
Blushing lightly, she answered, "Of course you do. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insinuate…"
Leaning down toward her slightly, Severus purred, "All work and no play makes Snape a dull boy." Then he turned and walked into the store.
Watching his retreating back, Hermione couldn't help but smile. This day was going remarkably well, although she sensed some tension on his part. She had expected as much…more, really. She knew that some people had barriers that had to be broken down; Severus had fortresses that would need to be laid siege to. As dark and resilient as he appeared to be, Hermione sensed a type of vulnerability around him, almost a fragility. She wasn't sure why he had chosen to reach out to her, but she knew that she would have to trod carefully on this new ground.
She had never seen him without robes before, much less in Muggle clothing. Today he was wearing a pair of black pants and an emerald green, button-down shirt. Allowing herself a moment, she appraised his form from behind: his shoulders were not terribly wide, but she could see the strength in his back and upper body as he moved. His stride was powerful and graceful, and she realized with a start that her former Potions Master had quite the sweet little rump. Giggling to herself, she looked away.
Honestly, Hermione…you need to start getting out more if Snape's ass is starting to look good to you!
Wandering toward the New Release section, she found herself musing about his romantic life. Obviously no one had seen him involved with anyone since she had started Hogwarts, but she doubted that he was as asexual as she had always imagined him to be. Had there been women before he took the Dark Mark? Since? Had he ever been in love? Would he now?
She was not an unperceptive woman. Although she did not think of Snape as handsome, she knew that he did possess a self-confidence that was very attractive. And he wasn't ugly. He didn't have the playboy good looks of Gilderoy Lockhart, or the scruffy attractiveness of Sirius Black, but his features held a type of nobility that she found interesting. Now that the war was over, and he would no longer be living the life of a spy, she was certain that single witches were going to be on the prowl. No, she thought, Severus Snape would not be a bachelor for very long.
After all, she reasoned, when you've lived alone for so long, it's only natural to want to find someone to share your heart and life with.
Severus found her curled up on one of the couches, a glass of white wine on the table next to her and a Jodi Picoult novel spread open across her knees. She didn't notice him standing there, and he took the opportunity to watch her for a few moments. Her eyes flicked back and forth rapidly, and he realized just how quickly she read. A stray piece of hair kept falling forward, and she would invariably blow a puff of air from the corner of her mouth to remove it from her line of vision. Her facial expressions would change minutely as she read; at times she would scowl, a line appearing between her eyebrows in a way that he remembered from Potions class, when she would be concentrating on her work. At other times she would smile, and when he saw how it would reach to her eyes, it would bring back memories of her laughing with Potter and Weasley.
She has such passion.
The thought surprised him a bit, but it dawned on him that it was true. Whatever she did, whether it was reading a book, helping a friend or fighting for her life, she put everything she had into it. The thought scared and exhilarated him. Would she put that same concentration into a relationship with him? He was willing to give this friendship thing a try, but he was not prepared to allow someone access to all of his thoughts or feelings; if Hermione expected them to become soul-baring mates, then things wouldn't work at all. He had no desire to be her girlfriend.
He cleared his throat, and she looked up at him. Her eyes had a slightly glazed appearance to them, as if she'd just been snogged soundly; with a sleepy smile she moved over to make room on the couch for him.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" she asked.
"For the most part. Some of the books had to be ordered; they'll have them in another week or so. I see you made out well." He nodded toward the stack of books she had piled on the floor next to her.
"I'm like a kid in a candy shop," she laughed sheepishly. "Some women go in for jewelry, clothes and shoes…my weakness is books."
"Would you like to have dinner with me?" The words were out before he even knew he was going to say them. He frowned a little - spontaneity was not in his character - but Hermione didn't seem to notice.
"That would be lovely. I'm getting rather hungry, to be honest. Shall we?" She stood and stretched unhurriedly, then bent to gather her books.
"Please," Severus said, "let me."
Picking up the pile of books, he motioned for her to lead the way toward the cashiers. As they went, a last unsolicited thought flew through his mind:
I wonder if she brings that passion to bed with her?
Disclaimer: JKR owns it all. I just wanna make them my naughty little marionettes.
A/N: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews. I appreciate each and every one, and I apologize both for the delay in getting this update done and for the brevity of it. Real life came in and smacked us around a bit. I will get to work on the next chapter as soon as I can…I have to go update "Graduation" for all my fellow horndogs out there. Cheeky little monkeys!
Jodi Picoult is one of my favorite writers. I made up "Fable Hall", but if anyone finds that it's real, please send me the address so that I can move there. Thanks much.
As always, this is dedicated to my hubby. You da bomb, baby.