A/N: *skips gleefully into the room*

*cackles triumphantly*

*does a happy little jig*

*stuffs the new chapter into your bucket of leftover Halloween candy*

*Exits, humming Christmas music and dancing like she's got a hula-hoop*

xx-Kitten.

Relligo Spiritus

By Kittenshift17

Chapter Nine

Freshly showered, Severus used a drying charm on his hair, not interested in catching his death by walking in the snow with damp locks. He was weak enough after their tether and their battle with the Death Eaters that he imagined it would be quiet easy for them both to fall ill in weather like this, and if he had to go on living, he would bloody well do it without the flu, thank you very much.

Downstairs, he found Miss Granger in the kitchen making a shopping list just like she'd promised. He read it over her shoulder without announcing his presence in the room, noting her familiar, neat handwriting and the rational choices she'd made for things they would need. She jumped in surprise when, without thinking, he leaned over her shoulder and took the quill from her fingers, jotting down several additional items he'd noted they would also need, both for the kitchen, and the rest of the household, including shampoo, since he'd used the last of it just now while he'd bathed.

"I have most of those things," she pointed out.

"Pardon?" he frowned, his mind on the shopping.

"I've got shampoo and soap and things in my trunk. If you've no objections, I'd like to unpack a few of them – those that can be employed while I'm here. They're in the way all crammed in my trunk after your hurried packing."

Severus frowned. He hadn't thought of that.

"By all means," he invited, making an extra effort to keep from snapping at her now that a headache was beginning to prickle behind his eyes. He wanted to go back to bed, but his stomach was rumbling for food.

"Excellent," she said. "I'll be quick, I promise."

She fished out all manner of lotions and potions and bottles of things he was sure a body certainly didn't need for basic hygiene, but he didn't voice the disparaging comments raging through his aching head when she gathered them all into her arms and carried them up the stairs. He didn't see the point in attacking her over a few lotions and it wouldn't do to take his blackening mood out on her when there was food shopping to be done before they could return to bed and sleep off the wearying effects of general existence. That could wait until so gargantuan a task as collaborative grocery purchase wasn't looming between him and an end to his hunger.

"If I'm staying for the holidays, we really ought to decorate and get into the spirit, too," she said when she returned, out of breath and looking rather peaky from climbing the stairs in her weakened state, but smiling jus the same. "If we've the energy after shopping, maybe we can dig out your festive decorations and put them up?"

"I haven't got any," Severus informed her idly, lazily doodling in the margin of the shopping list without paying much mind to the quill.

"You don't have any Christmas decorations?" she asked, sounding scandalised as though the notion of boycotting such a holiday was reprehensible.

"Do I strike you as a terribly festive person, Miss Granger?" he drawled, raising his eyebrows at her.

"This is… unacceptable," she declared, shaking her head in horror while she looked at him like he'd grown an additional head to find Christmas a chore, rather than something to celebrate. "It's fine. I happen to own plenty of Christmas decorations. I'll put them up when we return from getting the shopping done."

Severus shook his head but he couldn't be bothered arguing with her about it. Seventeen years as a Hogwarts Professor and forced to endure the holiday spirit of Dumbledore, Flitwick, and Hagrid had taught him that some people simply would not be moved from their insistence that such a tradition was both important and happy. If Miss Granger could really be arsed attempting to make his tired dwelling look like two Yule celebrants were inhabiting it in good cheer, then more power to her. It didn't matter to him one way or the other whether or not she put up a Christmas tree because he had no gifts to wrap and place under it. No one knew he was alive, and he hadn't any friend who'd have cared to receive one from him were he still believed to be amongst the living, besides.

"Have you any muggle money?" he asked. "I don't keep much on hand, and the hospital pays me in Galleons."

"I have some," Hermione nodded. "I do most of my shopping in muggle London for the sake of convenience and anonymity."

"Good," he said, fetching the large trench-coat he favoured for traversing the muggle world and the plain, dark green scarf his mother had knitted him nigh on thirty years ago.

Miss Granger copied him, digging a heavy winter coat, along with a matching purple scarf, hat, and gloves from her trunk before closing the lid lest the cats get into it while they were out. As he headed for the door, Severus noted Erebus and Crookshanks streaking through the back garden, Erebus on Crookshanks's tail and giving chase while they yowled loudly, positively furious at their continued cohabitation. He understood the feeling. He'd gone out of his way to be as polite as possible to the girl over the past few days, too tired to muster up any real anger, and in truth, he'd appreciated her sincerity upstairs, believing that should he ask her to clear out, she would.

The truth was, he'd discovered during his shower while ruminating on her words, that he didn't hate having her there. All they'd really done was share the bed and scoff down a few sandwiches when hunger roused them, too exhausted for anything more strenuous, but she was warm when she cuddled into him while she slept, and her presence soothed him. He knew it was the bond between them at work, putting them both at ease after so long apart since the inception of the tether, and especially while he'd been recovering.

The unsociable side of him detested having company and loathed having her – having anyone – in his space. But the previously neglected and forgotten part of him that relied on human camaraderie if not closeness or companionship had paid dearly since his supposed death. Severus had never before truly been alone. For as long as he had worked at Hogwarts – nearly since his graduation – he'd been surrounded by his colleagues and the students and the elves. Even at the summer holidays when he could return to the hovel he had inherited and never bothered to maintain throughout the year, Albus had often called on him unannounced, and Minerva would drop round occasionally for a game of chess or with another ill-advised attempt to remind him that he didn't have to be horrible to the new first years every year.

Since his supposed death during the war and while he'd been recovering alone once he had escaped the hospital and wiped the memories of his carers, Severus had learned true solitude. It was why he'd gotten Erebus. His own dark thoughts were unnerving, at best, and with little to occupy him but his books and his memories, he'd retreated to those darker crevasses often and learned they were difficult to navigate and frightening to enter when there was no one who needed him for anything and no one who even knew he was alive, let alone anyone who cared if he undid Granger's work and that of the healers and finally put an end to his suffering.

He knew, in large part, that such dangerous thinking was what had driven him to confront Miss Granger last year. He could've gone on with his life letting her and the rest of the world think him dead. He could've stewed on his fury without enlightening her of his rage against her for what she'd done. He could've just given up. But instead, he'd gotten a cat – a creature to rely on him every day and to drag him from the bed – literally – when he didn't want to bother. He'd developed the garden, too, because Pomona had always told him that gardening was the hobby of the hopeful. One could not plant seeds in the ground without hope of seeing them germinate and flourish until they bloomed heavy with flowers and fruits. She'd once told him gardening was a brilliant tool for overcoming depression because even when suicidal ideations did creep in, the reminder of waiting just one more day in the hopes of seeing a bud unfurl into a flower, or a flower blossom into a ripe fruit was enough and that every extra day brought a new incentive to stay.

Now he had a cat, and a garden and if he didn't get up every day, both would fall into ill health. But he couldn't deny the poignant resonance of Miss Granger's question about loneliness. Yes, he was lonely. He'd been lonely most of his life, but it wasn't until everyone believed he had departed from it that Severus realised how many people in his day to day existence actually impressed upon him some level of company, however brief.

He had considered notifying his former colleagues of his survival, but what would he say? What could he say? When last he'd seen Minerva, she'd believed him a traitor who'd murdered their mentor. They had been at odds and he didn't imagine she could so easily forgive him, even after his trail and Potter's lack of discretion. The same went for Filius and Pomona and Hagrid. All had admired Albus, and all had reviled Severus when he'd been forced to betray them on Albus's orders. His final moments with them – his final year with them – had been unpleasant and fraught with unkindness and pain.

What would he say to any of them? Sorry, I did what the headmaster ordered and didn't trust you to know?

And so, he'd said nothing, his letters topped with dates and addresses, and the Dear Minervas, Dear Filius' and Dear Hagrids, but no text below, just empty ink blots and all the things left unsaid. He had discovered during that time, too, that he had no one else in his life. His parents were dead, he'd no siblings and all extended family on his mother's side were dead or unknown to him. His father's, all dead, too. Any friends he'd had over the years had been fleeting at best, or Death Eaters. He didn't imagine Lucius would take kindly to a letter after all this time, and most of the others had been hunted down and given the Dementor's Kiss. The Ministry wasn't risking another embarrassing Azkaban break-out from this lot. They were kissed and left to rot somewhere if they were unlucky enough to be caught.

Who else could he contact? Potter? The brat he'd loathed all his life whose face reminded him so much of another man who'd made him miserable? The Weasleys, who thought him a traitor, and had never liked him, besides?

And then there was Miss Granger.

The annoying know-it-all who tried his patience in classes, defied his orders not to help Longbottom, and otherwise irritated him with her incessant need for validation through academia. The same girl who went out of her way to correct her classmates to use his proper title as a respected professor, even when she didn't know he was in earshot. The girl who chided her friends on his behalf when they used unfortunate nicknames for him while he supposedly wasn't around to punish them. The damned girl who'd saved his miserable life on the floor of that shack even when all he wanted was death and the peace it promised.

His soulmate.

He sneered at himself when he glanced down at the young woman walking at his side as he had the thought. It sounded fanciful and romantic, but magic so very rarely actually manifested in the way the muggles all went starry eyed over. This frizzy little witch had bound her life-force to his for the rest of time and she hadn't even intended it. Wasn't that just the icing on the cake? Not only was she the pain in the arse who'd annoyed him throughout six years of teaching, but she hadn't even bound their lives together on purpose.

She'd tethered their souls for eternity by accident. What a fucking joke! Severus curled his lip as they strode through the snow side by side. He noted idly that while he'd been lost in his thoughts, she'd tucked one hand through the crook of his elbow where he walked with his hands tucked in his pockets to keep them warm. She was blissfully silent as they shuffled along, leaning on him occasionally when she nearly lost her balance on the few steep inclines between his home and the market; the icy paths nearly bringing her unstuck.

It was such a strange notion to Severus that of all the people in all the world that he could've been soul-bound to, it had to be this witch. He didn't like her. He'd never liked her. She was pompous and self-righteous and obnoxious, most often bossy, swotty, and with a tendency to nag those around her to always be better and to behave. In short, she was a pain in the arse. And here he was, stuck with her for the rest of his natural life, and all his subsequent lives to come.

"Oh, shall we?" she interrupted his unkind thoughts and Severus glanced at her.

She pulled him to a stop on the side-walk just a block from Tesco's, peering in the window of a small muggle café.

"Why?" he frowned at the busy little shop filled with hungry muggles chatting and laughing as they dined and drank tea together.

"Shopping on an empty stomach is never a good idea," she answered. "And if we're to put up decorations this afternoon when we return, we won't have time for cooking something, too."

"You imagine I will be putting up decorations?" he scoffed, darkly amused at the very idea.

"Well… if you want to cook while I do that, I suppose we can save the money…" she frowned, but right at that moment a young couple excited the café discussing the deliciousness of their meal together and the strong scent of coffee, baked goods, and freshly cooked breakfast foods slammed into Severus's nose, making his already rumbling stomach begin to cramp with hunger.

"Fine," he sighed. "We'll eat. But if you expect me to be polite, you've forgotten who you're dealing with."

Severus wondered what to make of it when the small witch at his side laughed out loud, the tinkling sound like bells over the freshly falling snow before she patted his arm reassuringly and tugged him toward the door.

"Table for two, please?" she asked when one of the serving girls hurried over to her as she entered.

"Right this way," the cheerful muggle answered, barely a girl of fourteen, by the looks of her. Perhaps she had a holiday job. It didn't matter. Severus sneered, curling his lip at the sight of anyone of an age that he had once taught.

He stopped listening while the girl rattled off the specials they were running that day before she asked what they wanted to drink.

"Hot chocolate, please?" he heard Granger ask before she looked expectantly at him and Severus glanced down at the menu.

"The same," he grunted, perusing the meal options while the waitress hurried away to process their drink order.

"Ooh, they have waffles and ice-cream with hot chocolate fudge," Granger pointed out excitedly. "Merlin, it smells good in here. I'm starving. Those sandwiches we've been living on haven't filled me up at all."

Severus let her prattle on while he read the menu, noticing idly that after a few minutes of being seated, she snuck her hand across the table and began toying with his fingers of the hand not occupied by holding the menu. Intrigued, Severus didn't lower the menu, noticing that she played with them like they piano keys, pressing them to the table-top with her own, before lifting them and wiggling them, generally fidgeting. She paused when Severus turned his hand over, offering it to her palm up just the see what she would do. He was surprised when she slid her own palm over his, holding his hand briefly and emitting a quiet sigh before she went back to fidgeting.

Perhaps she was nervous? Severus didn't know. It'd been a long time since he'd spent any real time in company and the past few days had mostly revolved around sleep, though he had noticed she had a tendency to play with his fingers and trace patterns on his arms when he thought she was asleep between bouts of napping while they recuperated.

"What are you going to have?" she asked when he lowered the menu.

"The full English breakfast," he pointed, eyeing a few of the plates being carried out to people loaded with food. Eggs, bacon, sausage, black pudding, toast, roasted tomatoes, fried mushrooms and beans all made his stomach growl.

"Oh, that looks good," Granger said, watching the various foods being carried to people's table with hungry eyes.

"Do you have the shopping list?" he asked idly when she kept playing with his fingers while she looked around the shop with interest.

She dug it out of her pocket and handed it over, making him smirk just a little bit when she produced a muggle pen from somewhere as well, offering it to him. Severus read over it again, noting down a few more things they might need as he looked around the store, thinking of more delicious things he'd like to eat if they were going to splurge.

When the waitress returned with their hot chocolates they each gave their meal orders and Severus noted that Granger chatted briefly with the girl about the weather and the busy shop and the meal choices, adding a side of bacon and syrup to her waffles and requesting a pot of tea for them to share. She was a chatty little thing, he thought. Cheerful, her dark eyes sparkling with happiness as she hummed along to the Christmas music playing over the radio and she eyed the decorations adorning the shop with interest.

"This is your favourite time of the year, isn't it?" he guessed, shaking his head the longer he observed her.

She turned her eyes to him, still smiling.

"I love the colours," she confessed. "And the lights. And I love the snow. I even enjoy the music. Seeing it really makes me miss Hogwarts and the twelve trees Hagrid would haul into the Great Hall every year."

Severus shook his head, though he had to admit that Christmases spent at Hogwarts had always outshone any he'd spent with his family or on his own.

"The figgy pudding was rather good," he conceded.

"All of it was good," she said. "It wasn't quite the same when I went back last year, but it was still nice at Christmastime."

"You returned?" he frowned at her.

"Hmmm?" she hummed, watching another waitress go by balancing several plates of food that smelled divine. "Oh, yes. I went back and completed my N.E.W.T.s. I didn't want to go into Auror Training with Harry and Ron. The time I spent on the run from Death Eaters was more than enough dark-wizard interaction for me, thank you."

Severus raised his eyebrows and simply waited for her to recall that he was a dark wizard. When, eventually, her eyes moved to his face he watched her cheeks turn pink.

"I don't imagine that's worked out so well for you," he drawled, smirking a little at her embarrassment.

"Formerly dark and still dark are different things," she replied quietly.

"Did our recent interactions with my former brethren suggest those days are behind me?" he scoffed, amused that she thought the double homicide he'd committed didn't qualify him as evil.

"Self-defence," she shrugged.

"My life was never in any danger," he argued.

"Mine was," she answered softly, holding his gaze. "And if there's anything I've learned about you since beginning at Hogwarts, it's that you will always act to protect people from any real harm whenever you are able."

Severus raised his eyebrows at the folly of the very idea.

"I think you might've fallen into the trap of not speaking ill of the dead and thus, misremembering me, Miss Granger," he said dryly.

She regarded him steadily, not looking the slightest bit afraid of him, even after all he'd done and all she knew of him and Severus wondered at her capacity for forgiveness and her overall intelligence.

"You have always acted to prevent bodily harm wherever possible, Severus," she told her quietly. "Emotional scarring is, of course, another matter entirely, but no one is perfect."

He snorted in spite of himself, shaking his head at her.

"I suspect this bond between us might be addling your perception of me, Miss Granger."

"Highly unlikely," she sniffed, before they were interrupted when their food arrived.

Too hungry to bother continuing with the conversation, Severus dug into his breakfast greedily and noted that Granger was doing the same. They fell silent after that, passing the salt and pepper, pouring tea when the hot chocolate ran out, and otherwise devouring their food with relish. Severus realised only when he'd polished off the entire meal and had to resist the urge to lick his plate clean that he really had been starving.

"Mmmm," Granger hummed, mopping up the last of her melted ice-cream with the final bite of her waffle and chewing it delightedly. "That was fantastic."

"Agreed," he conceded. "Good idea."

She smiled, obviously pleased at the praise and Severus wondered if she still craved his approval after all the time.

"It's really coming down out there," she noted, eyeing the heavily falling snow beyond the warmth of the coffee shop.

Severus glanced outside.

"We'd better get a move on," he said. "My greenhouses will need more attention if this persists."

Nodding, Hermione got up and went to the counter to pay for their food without consulting him and Severus shook his head at the witch when she returned, having been given a take-away menu and a small Christmas ornament in the shape of a seasonally decorated tea-cup topped with cream and marshmallows, bearing the holiday sentiments and the name of the café.

"Really?" he asked, shaking his head.

"It's cute!" she said. "What a fun gimmick for the season. And they deliver, look!"

She waved the menu before tucking both into her purse and Severus suspected she must be one of those people who accumulated junk just because it was pretty or free. If she thought she was going to do so while staying with him, she was sorely mistaken.

"You are evidently their target market," he told her.

"You think you're not?" she frowned, putting her scarf, hat, gloves and coat back on to brave the cold.

"I'd have pitched them in the trash," he said. "I have no need for junk."

"You're a bit of a grinch, aren't you, Professor?" she laughed, shaking her head almost fondly as they spilled into the street.

Severus didn't bother denying it. Instead, he lengthened his stride, sticking to the sidewalks with their overhanging shop fronts to keep out of the snow as much as possible and hurrying off to the grocery store. Granger stayed at his side, seemingly unaffected by his grim demeanour. He wondered where she got the nerve.

"Oh, no," she groaned as they made it to Tesco's and collected a trolley for the rather large amount of supplies on their list.

"What now?" he asked irritably, the cold and the headache still niggling behind his eyes putting him out of sorts despite the nice meal.

"Spasm," she winced, leaning on the trolley and reaching for the middle of her back where she'd repeatedly endured a muscle spasm over the past several days following her torture.

Severus didn't even think about it before reaching for the offending spot and digging his thumb into the muscle through her clothes, muttering a healing charm.

"Not in front of the muggles," Granger hissed quickly though she slowly relaxed, breathing out carefully and forcing herself to straighten.

Severus glanced around, but no one was paying them any mind. So close to Christmas, the store was packed with people doing their last-minute shopping and unless someone was in their way, they weren't focused on their fellow shoppers.

"Come on," he said, fishing the shopping list from his pocket and consulting it before wheeling the trolley in the direction of the produce section.

Shopping for food with her, Severus was surprised to learn, was strangely soothing. She didn't fuss or um and ah over whether to buy something or not. She picked things up, examined them, and either put them straight in the trolley, or put them back with a shake of her head. Despite having made a list, she wasn't very good at sticking to it, he noticed, pushing the trolley along and watching her more than he was examining the stock on the shelves. She was a strange witch, he'd decided when he watched her put an enormous tin of shortbread biscuits in the trolley before picking up a box of chocolates, examining them, and putting them back on the shelf.

Severus learned quickly that she was an impulsive shopper, too. Something that became evident when they walked past a silly display of Christmas jumpers at the end of an aisle and she picked up the gaudiest one, laughing as she held it in front of herself before putting it in the trolley. He narrowed his eyes when she picked up a second one, eyeing him for a long moment and smirking.

"Don't even think about it," he warned her before she crossed the distance between them and held up the dark green knitted monstrosity with a Christmas tree on the front, measuring it against his chest whilst grinning.

"Perfect fit," she smiled when Severus didn't immediately push her away, not wanting to cause a scene.

"I won't wear it," he warned her.

She laughed again and dumped it in the trolley, ignoring his assertion.

"Hey, look! Baubles!" She exclaimed excitedly, finding the aisle with all the decorations and Severus shook his head. He thought about scolding her. He thought about putting the jumpers back on the shelf when she wasn't looking. He even thought about ditching her to continue on with the rest of the shopping. His head was aching terribly and the longer they took, the weaker they got. He wanted to get home and fall back into bed, if he was being honest.

But Severus couldn't deny that her obvious enjoyment with the holiday and the simple task of doing the shopping, even despite his bad mood, was contagious.

"I never imagined the swotty bookworm waving her hand incessantly in my classes would gush over tinsel, Miss Granger," he shook his head at her when she piled numerous decorative items into the trolley, her smile growing with every added item.

"Surprise," she grinned, bouncing her eyebrows at him. "We have to do something to brighten your dreary house, after all."

"Didn't you say you had plenty of decorations in your things?" he asked mildly while she picked up a few rolls of wrapping paper and some string and gaudy stick-on bows.

"Yeah, but I mean… look at this stuff!" she declared, holding up a large wreath and smiling excitedly.

"I'm not hanging that on my door," he warned.

"Psssh," she scoffed, adding it to the trolley.

Severus sighed, beginning to think she was going to make a nuisance of herself even if he tried to forbid her from decorating his home.

"All of this muggle junk is superfluous compared to wizarding customary decorations for the Yuletide season," he pointed out.

She paused in her toss-up between a gold and a silver glittery reindeer carving made of something spongy, her eyes lifting to his face.

"Like what?" she asked.

Severus raised his eyebrows before realising she was serious. Shaking his head, he pointed to the deer she clutched. "Put those back. I'm not having anything deer-shaped in my house. We'll find some wizarding decorations."

"Not here?" she said, looking around the store before spying a string of fairy lights and skipping over to pick them up.

Resigning himself to letting her decorate and supposing he might as well do things properly – the wizarding way – he removed the wreath she'd added to the trolley.

"Hey!" she complained.

"You're a witch, Miss Granger," he reminded her. "Make your own wreath out of materials that would do the pagan ancestors of your magical bloodline proud."

Her eyes widened and she darted a look around before raising her eyebrows at him.

"Will you help me?" she asked.

Severus narrowed his eyes on her.

"If we can get out of here sooner rather than later," he bargained.

"Done," she said, setting down the lights she carried and leaving the section immediately.

After that, she followed the shopping list, collecting all manner of things quickly and efficiently, and only adding one or two other impulsive purchases to the trolley along the way.

At the checkout, he handed her a wad of muggle money to add to her own, packing the trolley with the bags once more.

"Go flag that cab out the front, could you?" she asked, nudging him while the last few items were rung up.

Severus looked around and spotted the cab, before nodding and wheeling the trolley that way. It didn't take long for her to join him, carrying the last bag and tucking the change into her pocket before she helped him load their shopping into the cab. They rode in silence and Severus glanced sideways at her when she sighed and leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder and looking sleepy again.

"Almost home," he murmured without thinking.

"Mmmmm," she hummed. "Decorating might have to wait until after a nap…"

Severus chuckled softly.

"You wasted all your energy on excitement over cheap muggle trinkets," he taunted softly, laughing a little more when she reached over and pinched him without a care that it might annoy him.

They paid the cab driver and attempted to juggle their purchases into the house while the snow continued to fall – a task made harder by the pair of felines winding around their ankles as they attempted to enter the house.

"I have to tend to my plants," he told her, eyeing the falling snow with a little annoyance now, the thick blanket coming down hard.

"Go," she nodded. "I'll unpack the shopping."

Severus left her to it, hurrying out the back door into the cold and crossing to the greenhouses, already pulling out his wand to cast warming charms and protective wards over the structures, hoping to ensure that as many of his precious plants as possible would survive the weather. Any number of them were vital for fresh stock of ingredients for his potion brewing on behalf of the hospital, and he couldn't afford to lose them. Many of them would cost a small fortune to replace and while he hadn't exactly had a whole lot of things on which to spend what money he'd earned since his faked death, he didn't want to risk losing so many valuable items just because of a bit of snow.

The magic taxed him heavily, Severus learned, and he sighed wearily, his headache increasing tenfold the weaker he got. Wasn't having Miss Granger around supposed to alleviate this weakness? Wasn't letting her burrow into his side - into his bed - and letting her press her icy feet to his shins without killing her supposed to fast-track them both back to full health? Wasn't he supposed to be able to get rid of her out of his house and out of his life again, sooner rather than later?

Growling insults about the witch, their bond, the idiocy of her instating it, and her obvious foolishness that she'd let a bunch of Death Eaters track her down and penetrate her wards to torture her and get them both into this mess to begin with, Severus finished up protecting his plants as best he could. When he returned to the house, resigned to continued effort being expended to unpack the rest of the groceries, he found that she'd taken care of it and had even fixed them both a cup of tea. It wouldn't be as good as what he could make – she didn't have the patience to allow the tea to steep untouched, her impatience causing her to stir up the leaves and release tannins that made it too bitter – but it would have to do for the time being.

He frowned when he looked around, not finding her, before he heard her cursing colourfully from the stairs. Collecting his tea, he went in search of the slight woman and his eyebrows rose when he found her struggling down the stairs with the bedding they'd stripped earlier.

"What are you doing?" he asked, and when she gave him a look like he was a complete moron Severus had to resist the urge to snap at her.

"Putting these in the wash," she answered. "They stink."

Severus noted when she made her way past him that she was right; they were rather pungent.

"There's washing powder in the cupboard above the sink," he told her, following her into the laundry where she dumped the sheets and blankets into the large machine he'd purchased when he'd moved in.

"Did many more of your plants suffer?" she asked.

"I don't think so," Severus told her. "The charms to protect them took a lot out of me, though."

She nodded. "I know. I can feel it, too."

Severus sighed irritably, leaning against the counter while she dumped some washing powder and fabric softener in with the linens.

"There's no other way to speed up this process to regain strength?" he ventured, frowning, not having bothered to research the matter all that thoroughly beyond his initial attempts to figure out how – if at all possible – to be rid of the tether between them when he'd first figured out what she'd done.

"None worth considering," she muttered, making the machine run and crossing the kitchen to collect her own cup of tea.

"Meaning?" he narrowed his eyes, watching the witch when she stared out the window and wouldn't meet his gaze.

She ignored him.

Severus scowled.

"Miss Granger?" he demanded. "If you know of any additional means by which this wretched bond between us might allow us both to recover strength in a timelier fashion…"

"There are none worth considering," she cut him off curtly, and Severus wondered how much of the life he might choke out of her without actually murdering her.

"But there are other ways?" he pressed.

"I'm not telling you what they are, sir," she said. "This situation is awkward enough, I should think."

Severus reached for patience – no easy feat with his head pounding like a drunk elephant was using it for a tap-dancing stage.

"You are already living in my home, sharing my bed and routinely cuddling me, Miss Granger," he growled. "How much more awkward do you imagine things could really be?"

The insolent look she levelled at him sparked every professorly instinct he had, having always despised secretive, conniving, smug children.

"Speak!" he hissed, advancing on her when she refused to open her mouth.

It occurred to him in the recesses at the back of his aching mind that she had well and truly left her adolescence behind when she didn't, for even a moment, back down. She didn't cower. She didn't tremble. She didn't stammer or wring her hands together or shuffle her feet. She didn't even break eye contact.

Were she still in the mindset of a child believing him to have authority over her, Severus knew she would have done so, but this brilliant, foolish, wretched young woman did none of those things. She held his gaze and met him head on, never budging from where she stood, refusing to give in to his scare tactics. He might've admired her for it had his temper not snapped at that particular moment.

Fine. If she wouldn't speak, there were other ways he could extract the information from her. It was her own fault for holding his gaze so defiantly.

Severus invaded her mind with disgusting ease. Dimly he was aware of the way she tried to occlude her mind; trying to empty it; trying to redirect him when that failed. He was even aware that she emitted a strangled sound of fury. But he was undeterred. A few teasing plucks at thoughts and memories brought him the information he needed, and Severus viewed the memory with frightening clarity when finally, the girl surrendered it. He read the words about the supposed benefits of a bond like theirs and a means for recuperating much more quickly followed mutual drain to such an extent as they had endured.

And when he withdrew from her mind after devouring the passage from within the memory, Severus took three large steps back from the witch and cleared his throat.

"None worth considering," he repeated her words stiffly, refusing to meet her eyes for another moment.

She cleared her throat too, and Severus feared she might say something. He didn't want to hear it. Setting down his teacup with more force than was strictly necessary, Severus turned and practically fled her presence, intent on returning to bed and sleeping to regain his strength.

The alternative was inconceivable.

No. The girl was right. It wasn't even worth considering. Under no circumstance would Severus Snape debase himself so much as to shag Hermione Granger; especially not just to regain decent health.