Chapter Four

Two Reasons for Living

Setting down her tea cup, Hermione sighed with relief. It was Saturday afternoon. Carly was with her father; Stephen was down for his nap; and the potion she'd been working on for the last two weeks was simmering in the lab—she couldn't add the next ingredient for two more hours.

For the first time in a long time, Hermione Granger was able to sit on the couch, feet up on the coffee table, with nothing more to do than read. Flipping through the latest copy of Ars Alchemica (provided by Snape, at educator's discount rate), she located an interesting article and began to read. Five minutes later, her head slumped against the back of the couch and she began to snore.

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"Hermione? Hermione?"

Hermione blinked, then sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"Hmm?"

"Oh, Hermione, there you are!" Remus Lupin's head was in her fireplace.

"Mmmm…Hi, Remus," she mumbled blearily.

"Hermione, I'm sorry I interrupted your nap! And I'm even sorrier to ask a favor of you, but I don't know who else to bother…"

She kept her lips pressed tightly together, forcing herself to resist sighing in frustration.

"Tuesday's the full moon, you see, and Tonks is away on assignment. Normally I would send Christopher and Cassie over to Harry's house, but he's got an away game. Molly Weasley had agreed to be my backup sitter, but that's her anniversary—she and Arthur are going to be away for the week! It's just for one night, please…"

"I don't babysit for free," Hermione said sharply.

"Fine, fine, is five galleons enough?"

"Yes, that will do. But Remus—I'm surprised they let you two have children!"

Hermione was surprised by the look of anguish in Lupin's eyes. "Well, their parents were both werewolves too. The Ministry thought they might be infected too, so they gave them to us…but they're not. They're clean."

"At least they didn't take them away after they figured that out," she replied softly.

"Yes, I don't think they could handle another loss so soon," mumbled Remus sadly. "But they're going to have to handle another death eventually. I don't think I have more than ten years left."

Looking at his gaunt and pale face, Hermione's heart swelled with compassion. At last, she had a focus for her research. Well, a second focus anyway. Any decent Potions Mistress had at least two projects going on at a time, in case one potion had to simmer for days on end. Not that she was a Potions Mistress yet, but she did have to practice.

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"So this is the little Snape, eh?" Remus cast a critical eye over Carly. "At least she doesn't look like a Snape. No black robes! No ugly nose! She looks so sweet; too bad she has to put up with a father like that."

Hermione bit her tongue, trying to curtail the floodtide of criticisms which was eager to spew forth.

Tell him my father is a better man than he thinks he is, begged Carly.

"Professor Snape takes very good care of her. Emotionally as well as physically," Hermione said sternly. It was the only thing she could think of to say that didn't involve threats, insults, or slurs on Remus's parentage. Rather than drag out the uncomfortable situation, she quickly changed the subject. "So, are there any special instructions for taking care of the children?"

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"Here she is, sir," Hermione said, passing Carly over to her father.

Snape scowled over the desk at the blond seven-year-old examining the books on his shelves. "Who is that? I understood we had an exclusive arrangement! I will not have my daughter in a full-fledged daycare!"

"Christopher Lupin, sir. And Cassie too—she's hiding behind the pram. Remus said it was a one-time thing. Harry is unavailable to care for them tonight."

The Potions Master gave the boy another piercing glare, the kind that usually left first-years quaking in their boots.

"I'm not afraid of you! You can't be any scarier than my Pa! He's a real werewolf!" said the child seriously.

Hermione was shocked to hear Severus Snape laugh, something she'd never heard before. "Good for you, Mr. Lupin. Good for you."

Christopher managed a weak smile at the Potions Master before turning to his babysitter. "Hermione, can I ride in the pram on the way back? I'm tired."

Cuddling his daughter gently in his arms, Snape spoke up. "If Mr. Lupin is unwilling to walk all the way down here tomorrow morning, I will accommodate him. Shall I bring Carly up to your house?"

"I would appreciate that, sir. Thank you."

Hermione was still trying to straighten up the house the next morning when Snape came by with Carly. She'd been up late reading the night before, as she had for the past three nights.

The professor set Carly down on the couch gently. "What do you have here, Miss Granger?" he said, examining a stack of books that had yet to be returned to their hiding places. "Genetic Markers in Lycanthropes? A bunch of rot, if you ask me. Magic can ascertain all important physiological functions in werewolves. Wizards have no need for Muggle technology."

Hermione frowned, snatching the book from his hands. "If magic can ascertain every important physiological function, why in Merlin's name hasn't anyone cured lycanthropy yet?"

He scowled in reply; but then, suddenly, his expression dissolved into one of shock. "Oh, no. Not you too?"

"What do you mean, me too?" she snapped irritably.

"A cure for lycanthropy. You're working on it too."

"What do you mean, 'too'?" Hermione said slowly.

"Well, it's something I've been looking into for the last three, four…well, ever since Albus made me start brewing the Wolfsbane for Lupin," the dark man confessed cautiously.

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Great! I've just started this project, so I've only done some light reading—" (here she interjected a list of two dozen books) "—but I have some wonderful ideas on where to start. If I gave you a list, would you tell me what you've tried so far? And I really would love to get your input on the feasibility of the others, you see—"

"What I see," he said sternly, with his eyes fixed on the clock, "is that I must hurry back to Hogwarts. End of term examinations today, you know. We shall resume this discussion later. Goodbye, Miss Granger."

"Thank you!" she yelled as he strode briskly down the road towards Hogwarts. If he heard her, he did not show it.

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That Saturday found Hermione Granger and Severus Snape huddled together in the Hogwarts Potions Classroom. Piles of parchment and thick, musty tomes surrounded them as they discussed the merits and failings of different approaches to curing lycanthropy.

In one corner, fenced in by a Border spell, Stephen played curiously with a set of unbreakable potion vials. Near him, Carly sat strapped into her chair while Dobby read a book to her. Hermione and Severus were too busy to pay attention to what the house-elf was saying; no doubt they would have been horrified to hear the mangling of the classic tale. ("Missie Goldilocks is climbing through the window. What a naughty girl, she is having to iron her hands when she gets home! Now Goldilocks is seeing three bowls of porridge on the table…")

The hours ticked away; Dobby changed Stephen's nappy, fed the two children, and eventually tucked both of them into portable cots for their afternoon nap. The two adults didn't even notice that the little elf had disappeared momentarily until he reappeared between them with a pop. "You is not eating, missie and sir! You is very clever, but you is also very forgetful!"

With a sigh, Hermione pushed away the large scroll and the inkwell that sat on the table in front of her. A quick Scourgify removed the large blots of ink from her fingers. Without a word, she accepted the roast beef sandwich that Severus handed her. They ate quietly yet ravenously for ten minutes before looking up at each other.

"Albus always told me I was mad for embarking on this project," remarked Severus seriously. "Do you agree with him, now that you have an idea of what you're up against?"

The bushy-haired witch grinned. "I think you're asking the wrong person. Come on, you're looking at the lady who developed a charm for bringing down Voldemort, Britain's sole crusader for house-elf rights, not to mention probably the only researcher to be working on…" She stopped abruptly and blushed.

"Working on what?" His voice, soft and low, slid sensuously into her ears.

She pressed her lips together and refused to meet his gaze—she remembered that he was a Legilimens. Years as a spy had taught him to pick up on the subtlest of signals, however; and he caught the way her eyes flickered over to Carly and back.

He laughed heartily. "Miss Granger, I do believe you are a masochist."

She smirked in return. "My mother always used to say, 'Why do a small project when you can do a large one instead?' I have always taken her advice to heart."

"Indeed, Miss Granger. Well, I see that we shall have to compare notes on our other joint project as well. In the meantime, shall we return to the problem at hand?"

Hermione smiled at him bashfully. For the first time in a long time, she felt at home.

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Author's Notes: From here on out chapters will come a little bit more slowly. Five is basically finished but needs polishing; Six is still far to disjointed to even think about posting. I write as fast as I can, which is glacially slow.

Coming next, chapter five: Connections. In which Hermione takes a stab at a skill she's only read about before, we learn a little about Carly's past, and Stephen surprises even his adoptive mother.

Notes to those who have reviewed: In the beginning of chapter three, it's mentioned that Stephen is just over a year old. His birthday is in October and Chapters 3 &4 take place in November.

Yes, Percy's kid has some serious problems. I promise he will get help, but not just yet; something drastic has to happen before Percy will realize that he needs a therapist! We don't see much of Percy in this story (though his son will materialize again later), but he's still at odds with his mother, so he's not getting any good parenting advice. I promise that he won't make a move on Hermione. Which is good, because I like Hermione, and Percy makes me shudder.