The Ties That Bind
"No cord or cable can draw so forcibly, or bind so fast, as love can do with a single thread." - Robert Burton
CHAPTER I: The Verdict
"Some tragedies bind us, as lies do; they are ropes braided of hurt and bitterness, and you cannot ever fully understand how pinioned you are until the ties are loosened." - Lyndsay Faye
~•~
Wednesday, 26th November, 2003 - Evening
"Do you really think this is going to go ...well?"
Hermione turned to face her former head of house in the hall just outside the minister's office with a slight crack in her typically confident front, her brows furrowing delicately. For all the pains she'd taken in this process, indirectly this would be the first time since 'proposing' this concept - literally and figuratively - that she'd actually have to look her former professor and likely future husband in the eye. No matter the performative nature of this whole thing, it still left her feeling unprepared - something she, by nature, loathed.
It had been merely an idea, at first. A brilliant one, granted, if she could say so herself, the kind that would solve many problems with one precise action. And the problems it wouldn't solve, at least the enactment of the idea itself wouldn't be likely to create new, worse problems than the ones that already existed.
As her future sat, unless she so happened to run into a perfect man that the ministry would approve of sometime in the very near future - unlikely - she would end up married to a random stranger with probably decent skill and intelligence but with whom she would have no interest in whatsoever. Soon after, she'd be encouraged to spawn his children like some kind of bloody magical broodmare, or have her job threatened in the wake of her refusal. And then Snape, for all of his sacrifice and misery, would end up secluded and wandless in some muggle town doing Merlin knows what. He'd be in exile and continued misery while half the wizarding world were free to continue spitting on his name.
Surely, an outcome that would spare them both the indignity, or delay it at least, had to be the best course of action?
Minerva walked over to the fretful young woman and placed a maternal hand on her shoulder before giving her a petite smile of assuagement.
"My dear, I would be a fool to say I know anything for certain. Life can so often prove one's convictions wrong, especially with something as hesitant as this matter. However, what I can say is, if anyone has a good chance of changing the minds of those...leeches, it is you. Not to mention, Severus — despite the Purgatory he's in — and, not to mention me!" She looked deadly serious before cracking a small grin that soon turned into her rare but signature hoot of a laugh.
"Keep in mind, we won a very good fight when they even agreed to grant him this option despite the abhorrent alternative. And, an even greater fight when they then agreed to consider our counter negotiations. Something tells me Kingsley wouldn't bring Severus out of his 'dungeon' unless it was news enough that we would need to move forwards and discuss it. He could easily have sent us all an owl saying they denied it and toss us a date for the actual elopement. So, with all those factors in consideration. What does your brilliant mind tell you now?"
She raised her brows in expectation, clearly in this case, very much a professor asking a student a question and waiting for the correct answer.
The younger witch exhaled a self-deprecating sigh, bordering on relief. "That they've definitely agreed to something. Yes, I know. Logically, they must have. It would be a waste of all of our time otherwise. But that's not entirely what I meant..." She trailed off, brushing an errant, honey-brown curl out of her eyes.
"Oh?" Minerva asked Hermione with a curious gaze, though she had an idea or two of just what her anxiety might actually be about.
"And why don't you tell me, dear, lest I go off on another Shakespearean-level monologue. What precisely is it that you are so perturbed about? Is it Severus, himself?" She couldn't keep from guessing lightly.
"Not like that, exactly…. I suppose I just half expect disdain and resentment and I wouldn't even really blame him, he doesn't strike me as someone who enjoys the thought of having to be 'saved'," Hermione attempted to articulate with a subtle frown, glancing toward the closed door cautiously.
"I've never been a fan myself..."
Minerva rolled her eyes tenderly at both individuals though only one was present to see it.
"Oh, I'm sure without a doubt you will have to deal with both of those temperaments that he so loves to proclaim as being 'in his nature'. Though, they were learned for the sake of self-preservation, as I'm sure you have guessed. He's a very different person underneath his dramatic, sardonic, woe-is-me-and-the-world 'bit'. I suppose you're just going to have to peel his layers. But I wouldn't mention the saving thing. He'll do that enough for you," she winked and came up to squeeze the girl's shoulders.
"For now, however, be cordial, diplomatic, and kind. He'll have a hard time fighting that last one. Man's a bloody softie underneath his black robes. Besides, he now owes you. Petty for you or I to consider, but something he will not soon forget. I'm sure he'll be far meeker — well comparatively — than you might expect," she continued as she walked them closer to the door before turning to face the woman directly, searching her eyes for any sign of having been comforted.
"Generally my specialty," Hermione relented with a wag of her brows towards the Headmistress' initial overarching instruction, smoothing her dress absent mindedly as they halted just short of the door and she met her gaze, the result hopefully reassuring to the other woman's concern. As though she hadn't actually dealt with - and overcome far worse than a potentially grouchy and reserved Severus Snape. She honestly wouldn't know what to do in the face of anything less.
"Oh, and, I very well might regret advising this, but perhaps... flirt once or twice. At your discretion of course. He's feeling quite...insecure, let alone, unwanted. Besides, for my own amusement, I do love to watch him squirm, " Minerva added, with a wag of her eyebrows back to Hermione, and the addition of a wink.
The younger witch snickered outright, though had the caution to try and silence it, if only as an afterthought.
"We'll... have to see how it goes."
"Indeed we shall, Granger, indeed we shall," Minerva replied, giving her a small smile of confidence before opening the door and ushering her inside. As she followed her prized cub, Minerva couldn't help but think that the events that were to follow could either be cataclysmic, or, just perhaps, extraordinary.
Only time alone would tell.
~•~
Severus had been 'escorted' into the ministry through an inconspicuous side entrance that was visible to only the upper most echelon, so charmed it was, before he was deposited into the Minister for Magic's office, almost, without meeting a soul, thank Merlin. Though, to Severus the experience itself was far more reminiscent of a bloody Perp Walk than any cordial chaperoning.
Though, in his defense, the invisible bonds that had been charmed to keep his stride only so long by the ankles — lest he try to flee — certainly contributed titanically to his experience.
And so, Severus Snape, ex-triple agent, war hero to some, war traitor to others, found himself standing awkwardly at the front of the room staring at none other than one whose opinion of him surely fell somewhere in the middle. Or so he hypothesised.
"Kingsley, how. good. to. see. you. again," Severus drawled with a callous smile as he rolled his ankles to loosen them from confines of the bonds upon having had them removed.
"Severus," Kingsley Shacklebolt greeted calmly, his tone humble as he approached. They were almost of even height, the minister perhaps standing but an inch taller than the black-clad professor turned spy though he made no effort to look down on him, giving him a subtle smile in return.
"It is actually very good to see you again, outside of a legal setting. Well... for the most part."
Severus quirked an intrigued brow as he took a step or two closer to the Minister.
"And just what precisely do you mean by that?" He queried softly though his tone surely had an underbelly of ice.
"Merely that beyond the formalities, I've wanted to speak to you for some time," Kingsley specified in his low, calm tambor, clasping his hands casually in front of him.
"I feel I should apologise, personally, not only as a former ally, but as someone who had been undercover myself, I, of anyone, should have viewed the situation more critically. But we were all panicked and blinded by fear, and assumed the worst of you without a second thought. And I want you to know that I'm sorry for any contribution I had to it."
Eyeing the man who looked almost to be in trepidation, Severus took two steps forwards and pursed his lips as he held his hands behind his back in a demonstration of vulnerable strength.
"Well, Minister, I do appreciate your words. A bit too much too late, however, as not even Minerva held conviction in my loyalty, I suppose I would be an idiot to think anyone else would. However, as a man who is literally the head of our government, your treatment of me thus far has been quite comparable to that of Hades to Sisyphus," he paused to lick his lips before giving the smallest of smirks.
"However, unlike Sisyphus, my trickery, if you will, was used for a noble cause. And also unlike him, I actually am cleverer than Zeus," he raised his brows and angled his head softly to the left in an action of sardonic amusement of 'got 'em'.
The smirk was returned, wry but accepting his derision at least for the moment.
"Always did have to be the smartest man in the room, Severus," Kingsley remarked, pacing over to his desk and gesturing to a chair for him to take a seat should he choose to accept it.
"But unlike Hades, I am not a King. I don't have total dominion, in this or any other matters of legal precedence. There was a Wizengamot long before there was ever a ministry or a minister - as they never cease to remind me. The best I can do is give my argument in your favor as diplomatically and convincingly as possible."
Severus chose to stand, not wanting to assume that much of a vulnerable position — or perhaps, he didn't want the man to think him able to relax in his presence. No, not yet. He was still licking old wounds, and Kingsley had certainly been one of the hounds that had bitten him, impressive apology speech or not.
"Yes, well, Genius is a lonely occupation," he replied dryly, though the unmistakable inflections of years of anguish and sorrow could rightly be heard.
"As for your other point," Severus inhaled slowly, "I thank you for what you can do. And what you may, or may not have, been able to accomplish on my behalf, no matter the outcome."
Kingsley nodded. "I've done my best. With Miss Granger and Minerva's assistance, of course," he emphasized with a wag of his brows as he sat behind his desk despite Severus' determination to stay standing.
"Granted I wasn't wholly... enthused about the unconventional nature of the arrangement, but given the state of the world right now and how effective their argument has seemed to be, I'm not about to oppose it."
Severus gave a short nod as he brought his hands in front of him now, still hanging on to one another for comfort and support, a habit he had developed long ago as a child amidst the toxic emotional, and sometimes physical, abuse by his mother, and then disrespectfully, his father. Still, he paused for a moment to wonder why such a long held coping mechanism from adolescence was apparently needed by his psyche. He ground his teeth as the answer was clearer than he would like.
Moving on then…
"Yes, well, that makes at least two of us," he sneered, rolling his eyes at the absent figures that Kingsley had just introduced into the conversation. "I'm not exactly thrilled by the notion myself, I pray you would deduce. Never really been a wish of mine to exchange vows with an ex-student..."
The minister's expression stayed mostly impassive, save a tightening of his mouth at the rather derisive tone the other man had taken.
"Well that is good to know," he remarked, exhaling subtly as he considered his next words with care.
"This is by no means an attack on your person or an insult to your character, Severus, and I want to make it very clear that I would be saying something very similar to any man standing where you are right now, whether he chose to be there or not. But that is a remarkable young woman of great intelligence, who is choosing to use her future as leverage to preserve your reputation and your freedom. You don't have to like the idea, in fact I feel far more comfortable with the fact that you don't. But if I hear you have treated her with anything but respect and gratitude for the trouble, this arrangement can and will be voided at any time. But I think you are a far better and wiser man than to need to consider that eventuality."
The raven haired man listened with forced patience at the minister's paternal warning, biting his inner cheek softly as he resisted the urge to roll his eyes or object to any insinuation that he would ever devolve in such a manner to do any truly degenerative thing to her. Or any woman. Still, he was...pleased...to see that the muggle-born witch had apparently garnered no shortage of maternal or paternal influences within the wizarding world, and from none other than the minister of magic himself. He could do nothing but respect Kingsley for that, no matter the ill-will he may bear him for his prior mistrust or his current role of puppet master - more or less.
And so, with all of that in mind, Severus swallowed and strode the few paces needed for his feet to meet the edge of the mighty desk. He extended his hand sharply out and looked the man in the eye squarely.
"I'd make the unbreakable vow if I could, Kingsley, but I'm rather hard up on one as it were," he couldn't help but gibe.
Kingsley eyed his outstretched hand momentarily before taking it firmly in his grasp.
"Appreciate the sentiment. Though, since that also goes for trying not to be an arse, I wouldn't want to stake your life on it," he quipped back mostly in jest with a delayed hint of a smile, though it was an important distinction.
"I'll do my utmost best, Minister. But to promise something one might not be able to deliver is always a travesty for both parties," Severus replied with a twinkle of friendly banter in his tone before shaking the man's hand and stepping back respectfully.
Kingsley nodded, though his eyes quickly shifted from Severus to the office door just before a subtle knock was heard and two witches began to enter. The minister stood to greet them.
"Ladies, punctual as expected. Take a seat if you wish."
Severus' eyes flew to the pair, one more than familiar, family, and the other, well, apparently who was about to be so as well. He noticed his jaw clench at the thought and honestly did his best to only make eye contact with Minerva for a few seconds before his pupils flew back to the man behind the desk. He never once gave Hermione any eye contact, save peripherally. He sucked in a sharp breath as the two sat and shifted his weight back and forth on his feet as he, still, remained stood.
Minerva eyed him with a somewhat concerned expression as he was clearly not only out of his element on a plethora of fronts, but also, obviously panic stricken as to what was about to occur. Bless him. But, at the same time, as much as she earnestly felt that this might work, ultimately, she didn't blame the poor man. She gave him a reassuring nod before encouraging Hermione into her seat and following suit.
"Good evening," Hermione greeted first Kingsley, and then slid her eyes to the rather surprisingly antsy form of her future husband with a nod he was probably too busy trying not to look at her to notice.
Interesting.
"I'm going to assume since they dragged us all down here instead of sending us all howlers that this is going to be a... positive development?" she pressed delicately as she sat and crossed her legs.
"That's likely, but we will know for sure within the next ...two minutes," Kingsley replied, his dark eyes squinting up at the wall clock hovering some ways above Snape's head.
"Whether they'll give you all the terms you want or only some of them, I can't say, however. But since they seem to be facing down potential protests as of yesterday's Prophet, they may not have as much of an upper hand as they wish they did."
Severus couldn't help but bite his lip and swallow a chuckle, it always was quite satisfying when the Brutuses of the world were forced to remove their knives from the Caesars.
"It's been almost one minute and half," Severus commented calmly, clearly suffocating his anxiety, rage, and his hopefulness in a single statement. "I could fly there myself and deliver it far more quickly...if I were allowed."
He was being a royal cock and he knew it. But, he wanted her to know it. To know just what she had signed herself up for.
Granted they would have to do this and that, but the endgame was clear. They were either going to get out of this, or be forced to procreate. Despite his recent handshake with Kingsley, he could not help but be defiant. For her sake. Oh dear, was that a form of sentiment?
Hermione looked mildly amused at the perfectly appropriate hint of disdain - she had been thinking just about the same thing, but Severus had been, appreciatively, the one to actually vocalise it.
"Last minute disagreements or trying to be inconvenient on purpose, the world may never know," she mused dryly in accordance with Severus' comment, her tone a mockery of intrigue. They all definitely knew the most likely answer there.
The left side of Severus' mouth twitched. He took a meek step to the right before halting himself altogether.
"As Miss Granger has so cleverly pointed out, please, spare us all…" Severus quirked a rather bored eyebrow to Kingsley as Minerva was also giving him the same look. Merlin, they could only be there for so long.
"Right, Kingsley," Minerva began as she sighed, glancing between the dearest people to her left and right. "Perhaps we should urge this along, before someone gets hexed."
The minister held up a hopefully calming hand. "Settle. If I don't hear back within another moment or so I'll send someone down. But I'm sure they're just ironing out the details-"
Before Kingsley could finish his stalling his door flung open, and in its wake a small grey owl, who somehow looked both as self-important as it's senders and as impatient as its recipients, quickly dashed over the head of the secretary who had opened the door with a wince of apology. Swooping high, the bird deposited an official looking envelope and a blue velvet box upon the surface of the desk before making a graceful landing, watching them all expectantly.
Severus eyed the rather Grecian entrance with a roll of his eyes.
"If only there were a Chorus, proper," he muttered under his breath. Well, he certainly was in a mood for allusions today, it seemed. Damn having read Sophocles the night before. Though, damn even more, Miss Granger was certainly an Electra... so, who did that make him...?
He blinked, the equivalent of a head shake for him as he tore both his thoughts and his gaze from her totally.
Bloody hell. What had just happened?
"So. The verdict, hm?" Minerva almost begged as she saw her friend clearly begin to withdraw within himself, let alone how her former cub must feel, being arguably the calmer one in this situation.
"Yes, let's get to it... Though I'm also quite curious about that," Hermione voiced, her attention wavering toward the box that had made an unexpected appearance along with the seemingly well stuffed envelope. Her brows furrowed lightly, and remained so even as she looked back up to watch Kingsley pluck up the envelope.
"Actually so am I..." the tall, black wizard replied wryly, as he broke the seal and swiftly scanned the contents of the few pages of parchment within.
He let out a subtle sigh.
"Amelia, cancel my last appointment," he called out the door to his secretary before facing the three impatient parties in front of him.
"Good news. They have accepted your terms. Though the furthest they can legally or magically delay the consummation of the marriage is one year from the date the vows are taken, which obviously also delays anything to do with reproduction - normally encouraged to be considered after or within six months of a legal binding."
Minerva exhaled an apprehensive breath of air she hadn't fully perceived she had been bridling at Kingsley's first revelation, and reached over to give Hermione's hand a small squeeze before turning her attention to Severus.
As ever, or perhaps more so in this current situation, he showed no emotion save a subtle bobbing of his Adam's apple. Honestly, despite what she had encouraged Hermione just before, she had been rather nervous about their propensity towards generosity.
Generous, though, more or less, they seemed to have been.
Kingsley continued. "You will be required to partake in whatever events that are asked of you, and will be in contact with a ministry-appointed coordinator for such events."
"As far as the public will be aware, this deal did not occur and this marriage will be genuine in all respects."
"You will also have the allotted time to figure out a living situation that suits you both. While there is no law against married couples living apart, it does strain the credulity of the marriage and of the ministry itself in doing so."
Kingsley paused to roll his eyes, as he had no doubt they all likely had the urge to do.
"You will be required to sign a disclosure, permitting media portrayals of said events to be written. And, lastly, but certainly not least... You have to be married today."
Hermione was on the verge of looking rather pleased, nay almost smug from their immediate success. There was nothing in there she wasn't expecting, more or less.
Until the end, that is.
That was certainly a surprise.
"What, now?!" she demanded incredulously, her expression taking a sharp dip into confusion, her attention now focused wholly on Kingsley's rather tight attempt at a neutral expression, though it was more akin to a man waiting for a blow that had yet to land than a true attempt at indifference.
"Can you do that?"
Before he could even answer, she sighed and sat back from where she had nearly leant out of her chair, internally addressing her own inquiry along with a few others that came to mind.
"Was going to ask about rings, but suppose that answers the 'what's in the box' question."
Ever since the last words out of Kingsley's mouth had been spoken, 'The Half-Blood Prince' had almost completely dissevered from the narrative that was occurring around him, and one that he was very much an integral part of.
He had not noticed Minerva's anxious glances towards him, nor had he heard the remark that his former student had made.
Indeed, Severus felt as if he was being engulfed by all nine circles of Dante's inferno.
Finally, thanks to his decades of subjugation, he had an ability to resurrect his consciousness from any dissociative thoughts of pain, despair, fear, etc. and was able to blink himself back into the room proper to add his own utterance to the mix.
"To-d-a-y?" the usually phlegmatic figure phonated with a steely slowness.
Kingsley plucked up the box, revealing two rather plain if clearly aged golden rings and sat it open on the desk facing the three incredulous sets of eyes in front of him.
"Yes, apparently today. And yes, I can do that. Won't be very showy, but will do the trick. All goes well, Severus, you'll be a free man - in a manner of speaking, wand in hand before supper," Kingsley announced in as calming a manner as possible.
The normally austere man looked nearly to be in a state of shock, which considering all he'd been through was nearly amusing.
"Well they're certainly determined to get their money's worth, aren't they?" Hermione couldn't help but comment sardonically, though she shifted a tad nervously in her seat, clearly taking a moment to process that information herself.
Minerva glanced between the three of them and decided it would behoove them all to incant some form of positivity into the bloody room lest Severus Avada himself, Hermione try and stop him, and Kingsley well, say something more to encourage the idea.
And so, standing up with adroitness in both her movements and her eyes, Minerva walked over to Severus and placed a gentle hand on his. She squeezed it lightly.
"You've been through far worse than this in your time, old friend. And don't you dare open your mouth to make a cynical remark stating otherwise, or how this is an entirely different form of your own personal perdition. It bloody well isn't. You're very lucky to have gotten out of your presumed fate, and..." she lowered her voice even more, "you're bloody fucking lucky to have her by your side. Literally and figuratively. Don't. Be. An. Arse."
Whatever expostulations Severus had wanted to proclaim were steadily assassinated by Minerva's quick tongue. He merely tilted his head down to his left to meet her gaze before nodding once ever so slightly.
"Yes, Minnie," he whispered in return, glancing over her head to where the young witch, his very-soon-to-be-wife, sat.
Hermione's lighter brown eyes found Snape's darker ones and lingered for probably the first time directly, perhaps ever for longer than a moment of study. She swallowed down any hesitation she felt and offered him a hopefully calming half smile and a bit of a shrug.
Clearly his nerves were more shot than those of hers in this particular instance, so she wasn't about to make it any worse by looking too reluctant. He already looked like he was about to go into cardiac arrest. To put him through that, and then even consider backing out, would be tantamount to snapping his wand in half herself.
"Well, no point dragging it out. Merlin forbid they try to make a spectacle of that too," she voiced with a brief wag of her brows before glancing back at Kingsley.
"Or am I speaking too soon?"
Severus felt an odd tingling sensation in his chest as her eyes met his. A sort of gentle, heated buzzing that made his breathing suddenly more difficult. And as such, so confounded and startled by it was he, that instead of returning her gaze of solace, he frowned as the crevice between his brows deepened.
Bloody fuck. Wrong move, Severus, he chided himself and hastily tried to correct it by giving her an evanescent nod before turning back to Kingsley.
Well, so much for trying to not be an arse.
Kingsley watched the quietly chaotic response finally begin to round out, and held his hands up in mock surrender.
"I told you everything I know. After the paperwork is signed and the ritual performed, my instructions are minimal."
After glancing between them all once more, assessing the potential for catastrophe, the minister stood slowly, one of the sheets of parchment in his hand.
"Minerva, could you join me for a moment since you will be acting as witness?" He pressed, grabbing a quill as well and pacing towards the far side of the rather sizable room, leaving the bride and groom on their own in the main office space.
"Oh, yes of course, dear," Minerva nodded a bit too eagerly as she gave Hermione and Severus one last look of encouragement each before making her way hurriedly over to the minister to fulfill her courtly duties.
Severus' pupils clutched onto the back of the retreating figure that was his greatest confidant, and as of now, consequently, the engineer of his current state of consternation, like a lifeboat that was slowly rowing away from his stranded figure on this desert island of connubiality.
Once it was apparent that the two were most decidedly left on their own for a few moments as the others went through the paperwork, Severus realised that he was not going to be able to feign indifference forever.
Indeed, he at the very least needed to acknowledge the woman properly. And his last attempt had been abysmal at best.
And so, with a sharp inhale and straightening of his spine, Severus Snape crossed cooly over to his former student, co-war hero, and designated fiance.
"I trust this is as jolting for you as it is for me? Certainly thought we'd have a bit more time before any officiating business happened. Still, I suppose the bastards want everything cemented before we have the chance to change our minds….:" he hummed lowly as he occupied Minerva's abandoned chair somewhat woodenly.
Turning to watch him sit with something akin to relief at the broken silence - and not having to be the one to break it, Hermione gave a subtle nod of agreement, rolling her eyes vaguely skyward.
"Yeah, this isn't exactly how I imagined the day going," she almost chuckled.
"I expected more haggling to be honest. But after giving up that much leverage I suppose they had to do something to keep us under their thumb."
"Quite so," the interminably-shrouded man to her right agreed softly, adjusting his posture in his seat so that he was a bit more angled towards her for the sake of affability, before he continued with a nervous clearing of his throat.
"Speaking of all that, I…. I want to...thank you, Miss Granger, for your sacrifice….your tribute, as it were, to my...person...my liberty. Not many people would choose to do what you have. Least of all with me."
"You've sacrificed plenty, it's about time someone returned the favor, even in part," she replied with a somewhat knowing smile, then gave another small roll of her eyes.
"At least this way I know for a fact I'm not marrying an idiot, something that I'm dangerously close to not getting a say in otherwise."
The corners of Severus' mouth couldn't help but jerk upwards marginally at her last statement and he found himself catching her eyes fleetingly as he did so.
"Well, I did a lot in my past as my prior self that you've no idea of that created dues that I, frankly, more than deserved to pay. I was severely in debt to a number of individuals. Sacrifice was just a byproduct of paying them," he rebutted with pragmatic tutelage to her as his hand fiddled with itself on the arm of the chair closest to her.
"Though, as onerous as our upcoming trajectory looks to be, I suppose I am contented by the fact that I've, at the very least, I've safeguarded you from that indomitable fate."
She looked a tinge doubtful about the balancing of his moral equations, but made no further comment on the matter of debts owed or repaid.
"Trust me, that's quite a help," she persisted, no exaggeration necessary. "I just hope whoever they get to 'coordinate' us isn't a total pain in the arse..."
"It would be a fucking miracle if they weren't," he commented scornfully, crossing his arms over his chest before realise that the girl — woman — had likely never heard him employ expletives before.
"Er, Apologies. Rather a woefully underused habit of mine on school grounds. Save the teacher's lounge of course," he nearly snickered as his eyes travelled back to Minerva.
Hermione found herself cracking a grin, the humanising effect of the comment actually coming off rather... charming? Though perhaps it freed up her tongue a bit too readily given the next thing to come out of her mouth.
"Thank gods for that, I was originally going to say I hope they aren't a total cunt but thought that'd be rather crude..."
Severus would have done a double take had it not been for his years of spy-hood which had educated him to maintain an impassive visage at all times.
Though, he did crack a fairly prominent grin, at least, for him.
He couldn't help but be a bit fascinated by the creature all of a sudden. Miss Goody-Two-Shoes, well, actually, not at all. Just the brainy one, so, he suppose her rather crude and vibrant inner life actually did make sense. Nevertheless, he would be remiss if he didn't prod her a bit about it.
"I'd have to dock a good 20 points from Gryffindor if you were still my student, Miss Granger. Though, had you been in my house, I'd have awarded you 30 just now."
He ran his tongue against his right molar to keep from snickering too obviously. Merlin's ballsack, he hadn't just...flirted with the girl had he?
She did laugh, far more easily than she expected to from anything out of Severus Snape's mouth.
"Now that's a bias, but I suppose I can't blame you. Though I think in this one case I might prefer to be a snake."
He looked to her directly this time and raised his left brow to a peak, "Well, well, finally come to your senses. Good girl," he commented with ease, completely not clocking the very suggestive, sexual connotation with the very specific word choice of praise at the end of his statement until it was far too late.
Fuck.
Hermione's brows rose though her lips curled into an unmistakable smirk of intrigue she tried her best to temper. Rather immature of her to want to laugh, surely, but there was something… telling about the fact he had not only caught, judging by his expression, the insinuation of his words, but actively, dare she suggest, began to flush.
"Oh I wouldn't get cocky about that," she teased back, though which part of the comment she was referring to she didn't specify.
The ever witty, ever erudite professor and spy found himself at an utter stupefaction for words. Let alone anything clever within them. His eyes widening marginally as they stayed with hers and a slight sweat at his hairline, however, were the only true physical signs that he had put himself in such a state of disquieted panic.
Any other witch or wizard likely would have assumed that he had had a muted moment of respite from perhaps an intrusive thought or some other such reflection. Severus wasn't dealing with a pedestrian, however.
No, he was dealing with a witch that matched his own intellect at her own age.
And so, it was with a hazardous attempt at damage-control that he belatedly spoke.
"Apologies, Miss Granger, I didn't mean to condescend your age. You are very much a young woman. Though, I suppose to my baby-boomer ears it just doesn't have the same ring. Regardless, I always did think you would have thrived in my house. Perhaps in ways that would have benefitted you even more so than your own. But, anyways…." he shrugged nonchalantly as he averted his eyes and prayed that his prattle in and of itself hadn't been even more of an uncharacteristic give away.
Hermione had to fight not to look too skeptical or frankly giggle outright at his anxious backtracking. She couldn't recall anything short of death making the erudite former professor look anywhere near a state of panic, and the fact that she could now add accidental innuendo to the list gave her a bizarre and gratifying sense of accomplishment.
Luckily, Kingsley and Minerva were swiftly re-approaching to end his self-induced suffering.
"I caught the point," she assured him quietly with a good natured smirk and a somewhat teasing glint in her eyes before they were inevitably interrupted by the minister bringing back the quill and parchment, with the new addition of a large, leather-bound tome that had clearly seen better days.
Well, this was potentially going to be far more interesting than she had previously expected.