The Spy
AN: As always, I make nothing from this endeavor and thank JKR for allowing us to play with her creations.
I thought this was going to be the last chapter, but after almost 8000 words I realised that it wasn't so we we'll have at least one more after this one. This chapter is a little shorter as I needed to find a natural place to split it.
Thank you so much to everyone who had read, reviewed, followed or favourited this story.
SS
Not quite ten days after her tea with Minerva found Hermione standing in an alleyway, only a two-minute walk from her flat. She eyed the discarded wellington boot with apprehension; this was it; she was going to speak to him… to Severus and get it all out in the open. Checking her watch, she saw it was midday, time to go, now or never.
She landed in in a narrow lane not far from the cathedral in Reims before stopping at a patisserie for a small selection of pastries, and Apparating to the long track which led to his house. Hermione had some reservations about having not written to him to let him know she wanted to meet, but in the end, she just wanted to get it over with, rather than sit around agonizing over the prospect of his reply. There was no guarantee he would be home, of course, but she could always speak to Gilmere to ask when he would be returning.
Approaching the familiar courtyard she lifted the latch on the gate, her eyes never leaving the front door of the house. He probably already knew there was someone on his property. Hermione realised her palms were clammy when she found herself rubbing her right hand on her jeans. Never having had to make the first move before, to do so now was nerve-wracking, to say the least.
The walk to the front door felt like an out of body experience. Before she knocked Hermione closed her eyes and took a moment to compose herself. This was what she wanted; raising her hand to the knocker and banged it three times, she was going to do it.
Unsurprising, Gilmere answered the door. "Miss Granger?" he asked. Clearly, she was not expected.
"Good afternoon, Gilmere. I don't suppose Mr Snape is at home at all."
"The Master is expecting you?"
"Er, well… no he isn't, actually, but if he is home, I would like to speak with him, if he has some time, of course."
The elf indicated that she should enter but made it clear that she should remain by the door while he scampered upstairs. The waiting was agony. What if he didn't wish to see her? What if he was busy? What if the floor opened and she was swallowed up by the Earth?
By the time she heard footsteps begin to methodically descend the stairs her stomach was in knots, with excitement and fear. Hermione had told herself many times over the past few days that she had survived life threatening encounters with wizards and witches who meant her mortal harm - this was simply a conversation. Not only that, but Minerva, who had known him since he was 11 years old had encouraged her to be honest with him and she trusted the headmistress.
As he came into view, she saw he was wearing a dark green apron and was wiping his hands with a cloth. His air was tucked behind his ears, and his beard was slightly longer than when she had seen him last. Otherwise, he looked exactly the same and she couldn't have been more thrilled to see him, despite the anxiety. Their eyes locked when he descended the final step and Hermione couldn't help but to gift him with a shy smile, uncertain of her welcome.
"Miss Granger, this is unexpected," he observed, looking at her curiously.
Hermione gripped the string which was wrapped around the box of pastries.
"I'm sorry if this is a bad time… I just wanted to speak to you."
Snape walked the short distance of the hallway to stand before her and she had to fight the urge to blurt out what she wanted to say, just to get it over and done. He slid the cloth in the front pocket of the apron.
"I was just chopping some valerian root, but it can wait. Would you like to take a seat in the library? I will ask Gilmere for some tea and be with you shortly."
"Thank you, that would be lovely,"
"Are those cakes for us?" Snape asked, looking down at the box she was holding with white knuckled grip.
"Oh, yes… I thought some pastries might be nice." Hermione held the box up for his inspection.
"I do recall your sweet tooth," he nodded. "Shall I take these to the kitchen? He went to take possession of the box prompting an awkward tug of war until she remembered to let go.
"I'll just go into the library then."
"If you wouldn't mind, I will join you shortly."
Hermione couldn't help but admire him as she watched him descend the stairs to the kitchen, before she entered the library. She set her bag down next to the chair she had come to think of as 'hers' those few weeks ago. The book he was currently reading was sitting on the coffee table opposite his preferred corner of the couch as if she had never left. It was inevitable really, that her next thought was that she yearned to sit in this room with him again, very much.
Her heart leapt when she heard the door open, but it was only Gilmere with the tea.
"I have tea, if you don't mind."
"Thank you, Gilmere." Hermione took her seat, knowing that it was preferable than to be found sitting calmly than pacing around the room. Having rehearsed what she wished to say several times, and not having been thrown out or refused entry, her confidence began to grow and she smiled to herself.
The elf, after laying out the tea, including the pastries she had brought for them to enjoy, looked at her curiously before he pushed the trolley out the room.
When he finally entered the room, Hermione noticed that Snape had removed his apron. It was testament to how far she had fallen that she found everything about him, just perfect, including his slightly creased white shirt.
"I apologise for keeping you, I had a few things to deal with upstairs. Shall I pour the tea?"
"Please." Hermione imagined reaching across the table to kiss him and wondered if that might be easier than revealing herself with words.
He was very meticulous as he poured two teas and plated a pastry for each of them before sitting back into the corner of the couch, apparently not willing to initiate the introductory conversation.
"How was Dubrovnik?" Hermione asked.
"As expected," he replied, dismissively. "I wasn't drawn against Radkov, so Vienna beckons, but not until August."
Of course, Hermione had known this as she'd looked up the results on the back page of The Daily Prophet, and promptly fantasized about joining him in Vienna.
"Congratulations are in order then." Hermione raised her teacup in a mock toast.
"It's early days yet with many bouts left on the card." Snape reached for his plate and seemed to be considering how he would tackle the dessert, before using the edge of his fork to cut through the layers of cream and crispy pastry.
"I am surprised it has taken you this long contact me if I am honest," he said, abruptly.
Hermione paled and her stomach swooped. His tone was not one which invited a confession of attraction on her part… or reciprocation. Before she could respond he continued. "I toyed with the idea of speaking to you about this before now but talked myself out of it several times. I decided that there didn't seem to be much point in doing so once I had made the discovery as you seemed to have been enjoying yourself, regardless."
"There wasn't?"
"Don't you agree?" Snape cut another piece of pastry. "There was nothing to be done about it by the time I became aware, and I wasn't inclined to upset the apple cart by bringing it up."
He knew. He'd even known when she was there and he said nothing, ignored it as if it was a nothing to him. "Don't you think I had a right to know that you knew?" Hermione asked.
"I somewhat regret not speaking to you about the situation, upon reflection, and for that I sincerely apologise, but I hope you will understand why I felt it necessary."
Hermione rubbed her forehead, trying to think of something to say which wouldn't give away the hurt she felt at his detached, dismissive reaction to this knowledge, because she refused to give him the satisfaction. How very flattering to have her feelings for him dismissed as a 'situation'. She knew he could be cruel; she had always known this but had chosen to ignore it, and her reward was humiliation.
"It would have saved a lot of agonizing if you had just talked to me. I even spoke to Minerva about it, and now… I feel like a prized idiot."
"I was still considering whether I wanted address it with her too, or whether I should leave it to you. In the end, I didn't feel it was my place."
"Only last week she was encouraging me to talk to you!" Hermione snapped. "And don't you think it might have been a good idea for you to think of talking to me about this first, before you thought about running to her?" Hermione asked, the humiliation morphing into anger.
"You are right, of course," he agreed. " It simply wasn't something that I feel she should be involved with at all. We are both grown adults and though I know she means well; nevertheless, I don't appreciate these things being spoken of without my knowledge."
Hermione stood indignantly. "You know, Severus, you don't need to be so rude. I came here to have an honest conversation about… about all of this and I won't sit here and listen to you speak to me like this as if I were an inconvenience to you. If I was so bloody inconvenient and you had known about it when I was still here a few weeks ago, then you should have just asked to me leave, instead of humouring me. I'm a grown woman and I don't need that from you." She snatched her bag from the floor.
Snape stood abruptly. "Miss Granger… Hermione, can you not see how ridiculous it is? We are oceans apart; I am beyond embarrassed about this, it is ridiculous."
"Ridiculous indeed, Mr Snape… that fact is not lost on me now, especially as you seem determined to drive the point home!"
Striding angrily from the room, she stormed out of the house, slamming the door on her way out and Apparated to Reims to wait for her portkey back to London.
SS
It was a wet and windy Friday night, so unlike the beautiful summer evenings of the past few weeks, and a perfect manifestation of her mood. Hermione on her sofa with a sharing sized bag of twiglets, a packet of dark chocolate hobnobs and a fresh cup of tea an oversized mug. Harry had asked if she wanted to meet the gang at the Leaky, but her heart wasn't in it. Hermione was certain that it has been shattered into thousands of pieces. This felt worse than when she had broken up with Ron and yet she hadn't even shared so much as a kiss with Snape.
Getting through the week at work had been difficult enough and forced socialisation on a Friday night was something she wanted to avoid. It was right at the top of her list of, 'Things not to do'. On her list entitled, 'To do', was stay at home in her pyjamas, feeling sorry for herself, watching Celebrity Masterchef.
"Good grief, how do you manage to burn fish like that," she muttered herself, before reaching into the bag for another twiglet.
The building door buzzer sounded. "For goodness' sake." Hermione threw the open bag of twiglets on to the coffee table and went to the intercom next to the door. "Harry, look, I told you I'm not feeling that great, I don't want to go to the Leaky!"
There was no answer.
"Harry?"
Still no answer.
"Stupid bloody kids, grow up!"
Irritated at being interrupted, but thankful that no further explanation was required, Hermione resumed her position on the sofa and watched a sizable fillet of halibut being pushed from the pan into a bin.
A loud knocking the door of her flat, interrupted her viewing, once again.
"Urgh, what now." She huffed, getting up from the sofa once again to answer the door.
The urgent knocking started again as she grabbed the door handle and pulled the door open abruptly.
"Will you just piss off!" Hermione snapped.
Standing on her doorstep was Snape with a wary expression. "I know you were angry when you left my house last weekend, but I would like to speak with you," he urged.
Hermione took a step back and slammed the door in his face.
"Please open the door."
She stood two feet from the closed door looking at it as if it were a ticking bomb. He had degraded her the last time they had spoken and she couldn't think of anything more she wanted to hear from him.
"We need to talk."
Worrying at her lip, Hermione looked around the living room for her wand and considering whether to case a silencing charm to avoid having to listen to his pleas.
"If you can't talk to me face to face, then I will say what I need to say from this side of the door, but I would prefer if you could give me some indication that you were at least listening to me."
"Its not convenient," she replied at length.
"Then when will it be convenient? Should I get a hotel room, or do I need to book a portkey home?" Snape asked persistently.
"You can move to Siberia for all I care."
He audibly sighed. "You must know that I cannot just walk away… I won't." he replied softly. "I spoke to Minerva yesterday… if you don't want to see me again after we have spoken, I will honour your decision."
Why had he gone to speak to Minerva again? The following silence was unbearable. Hermione took a step forward and reached for the door handle turning it slowly and opening it just the six inches she needed to see his face.
"I will not have you insult me in my own home."
"I would never…" Snape began earnestly. "We need… I would like to clear the air."
Hermione pulled the door open and immediately turned to take her seat on the sofa, not bothering to extend an invitation for him to sit in the nearby chair.
Snape seemed to take his time in crossing the threshold, closing the door behind him, very deliberately. She noted his concerned, almost worried expression. It was not one she had seen on his face often, if ever. His long black travelling cloak encompassed his person like a suit of armour.
"This may take a few minutes, but I hope you will do me the courtesy of listening to what I have to say, without interruption."
Hermione nodded, struggling to look at his face.
"I went to see Minerva yesterday on a matter of great import," he began evenly. "You see, I realised after you walked out, that something didn't seem right with regards to our conversation, and I couldn't put my finger on what it was at first, until I recalled that you said you have spoken to her recently.
"What you probably do not know, is that I had stayed at Hogwarts the night before that evening at the Ministry. It is something I do from time to time on the rare occasion that I am in the country for more than an hour or two. Minerva and I spent a regrettable evening in her study drinking firewhiskey until the early hours and after several more glasses than I am accustomed, I shared some information which I believe may have set wheels in motion."
"What do you mean?" Hermione frowned.
"This is very difficult for me to speak about, so I hope you appreciate the depths to which I prepared to lay myself bare to you." Snape closed his eyes, his face painted with a pained expression. "I told her that I have been… lonely."
Suddenly Hermione's mind was racing, waiting for him to confirm what she thought he was suggesting.
He began to slowly pace her tiny living room, just a few steps at a time. "By now you have probably surmised that our mystery bidder was your very own former Head of Gryffindor house, Minerva McGonagall.
"That's just…"
"Please…" he interrupted. "I need to finish."
"I had my suspicions when the winner was revealed to me as I found it difficult to imagine you would be interested in such a prize. I was prepared to go through with it primarily through my own curiosity and partly for amusement… I seldom train novices and I was keen to see if I would see a real improvement in your abilities in such a short time. It was vanity on my part.
"I appreciated that you did try, at least for the first few days, but by the time you started suggesting alternative diversions, the novelty was somewhat lost to me. It was obvious that you were clueless when it came to the bidder; I had made a deliberate decision to keep that from you, because I knew you would ask for her motivation, and I had no intension of revealing it.
"Which brings us to last week when you arrived at my home unannounced, and I thought you had come to talk about Minerva." He stopped pacing and looked over at her, sadly. "Please believe me when I tell you that I did enjoy our week together, most unexpectedly, I might add. It has been a long time since I have been able to argue about novels and play a good game of whist with anyone. It took me a humiliatingly long time for me to understand why you were so angry with me that day… Minerva confirmed my suspicions, yesterday afternoon."
Hermione audibly groaned and covered her face with her hands to shield herself from his gaze.
"I am flattered, that you would see anything in me that you deem worthy of your affections, but Hermione, it would never work between us. I am everything that people assume about me. I have an excess of pride and I am emotionally jaded. That doesn't even account for the fact that you were once my student, we live a considerable distance apart, and you are almost twenty years my junior."
"Do I get any say in this at all?" Hermione suddenly animated and standing to protest. "Tell me that you aren't attracted to me, Severus. Tell me that and we never need to see each other again."
He grasped the back of the chair and looked down at his feet.
"It would probably be kinder if I lied and said that I wasn't, but there has been enough deception already."
Her heart soared with hope. "Why aren't you willing to at least give us a chance?"
"Did you listen to what I just said? Hermione, our lives are very different. You have a career at the Ministry, and I will never live in this country again. I travel a great deal at times… we could go five or six weeks without seeing each other. You should be with someone willing to make the sacrifices necessary to be with you and that person is not me."
"So, you say that there is some attraction on your part but you're just not willing to acknowledge it enough to do anything about it," she said irritably. He was being obstinate in his decision to deny her a choice or much of an opinion. "Why don't you ask me whether those things matter to me?"
"You may not think so now, but when you have been the one to make all the sacrifices and you look back, you will resent it and resent me."
"Severus, I am not proposing marriage, I am just asking for a chance."
"I am not prepared to take the risk."
"I see," she snapped crossing her arms. "Well then, I think you can leave then. I need to move on, and I can't do that with you here."
"I am sorry, Hermione."
"Great, thank you for that, I will console myself with it later when I am wondering why two people who have feelings for each other are not even attempting to give it a try."
He considered her, not giving away his thoughts, before nodding his acceptance; without so much as looking back the door closed behind him.
Hermione sat down and stared at the closed door, numbly.
SS
AN: I don't usually put notes at the end, but I wanted to reassure folks that the next chapter is well on its way to being completed so the wait shouldn't be too long. I wanted to post both at the same time, but it wasn't to be.