A/N: Sorry this took a bit longer! I was really struggling with it. Unfortunately the next chapter might take a while as well, as I'm about to be quite busy for the rest of June. I'll squeeze in what writing I can and will hopefully get it uploaded by the end of the month.

But anyway, I hope you enjoy, and as always reviews are welcome! I will reply to the ones I am able to.


Chapter Twenty-Three

The harsh November winds shook the second story windows of the Hogsmeade cottage, and Hermione jolted up in bed at the sound. Crookshanks, who had up until then been settled comfortably against her side, launched himself to the ground and dashed under the bed in a blaze of orange. She clutched her chest as her eyes adjusted to the dim light, glancing at the space around her as she came down from the panic of a sudden awakening. "What-" she breathed, before the memories of the day before came rushing back to her. Oh. Right. I'm... I'm not at Hogwarts anymore.

No, this was far from it. A small attic bedroom in a former professor's cottage was not exactly where she had expected to find herself when she woke. The day prior had once again uprooted her life in a terribly upsetting fashion, and as she flopped back down onto her pillow, she clutched her knitted blanket tightly. "It's okay, Crooks," she mumbled into the faded morning light. "It's just the wind."

Another breeze tore at the windows, and she rolled over to face the wall, so different from the walls of Hogwarts. It had been less than twenty-four hours and yet she yearned for the castle's solid stone, the flickering torches and countless enchantments, the living portraits giving the whole of the building an elegant liveliness. The silent stillness of her current whereabouts was borderline suffocating in comparison.

The place was nice, yes; she was moved by the charm of it all. It was far more than she had anticipated, having a space designed specifically with her in mind. But they could have given her an entire wing to herself and it wouldn't change the fact that she was, in essence, willingly imprisoned.

Once again she went over the alternatives in her mind. She knew she was unwilling to risk those at Hogwarts, even on a possibility as slim as the one she had faced; Dumbledore himself couldn't assure her of the school's safety, and that alone had set her resolve to leave. Yet her alternatives to Hogwarts were few, and she still believed she had made the correct choice, despite her growing desire to see Harry again.

Had he received her letter yet? Would he understand her choice? She couldn't stomach the idea of being in Grimmauld Place right now; not after everything that had happened. She couldn't face Ron knowing he would feel justified in his belief that Snape was responsible for her hardships. She couldn't put Harry in the position of being in the middle, either, not in his own home. How was that fair to him? She hoped he would accept her decision, and that he wouldn't worry for her unnecessarily. She was perfectly safe here; she may not be happy, but she was safe.

Rolling onto her back with a sigh, she draped an arm over her eyes. Oh, if only she could be happy about this. She was in a position she had wanted to be in for quite some time now; she was actually in the presence of Severus Snape once again. How many times had she wished that she could see him face to face, to sit down and have a rapid back and forth with him over tea? Every time she had written or received a letter, at least. Despite the circumstances that brought them to this point, she was exactly where she had wanted to be for months now. She should be able to find some semblance of joy in it all.

Of course, this was all ignoring the fact that she had developed feelings for the poor man. She cared for Snape- cared deeply for him- and wished that she were here under any other circumstance. It was hard enough imagining her writing to him again; how was she supposed to live with him? To face him day after day, hiding these emotions from the man who could see through anyone? Her only solace was in the fact that he seemed to be just as uncomfortable as her. And with yesterday's events hanging over her head, and him no doubt stricken with unfounded guilt, she wasn't sure what the morning was going to look like, let alone the next few weeks. Perhaps he wouldn't look too deeply into her actions. It was likely he would attribute her awkwardness to discomfort with the situation. In fact, knowing what she did of the man, it was quite possible he would wish to avoid her as much as possible.

Though, if last night was any indication, that may not be the case. He had followed her outside, hadn't he, seeking her out? To check on her, no doubt; but still, he had made an effort to reach out to her. He understood why she had stopped writing, and had comforted her when she opened up to him. He didn't see her as a silly girl- he still saw her as a friend. Her relief spilled forth once more, and tears prickled the corners of her eyes. Thank the gods I didn't mess that up, too.

The mattress sank as Crookshanks rejoined her in bed, shaking himself and settling down in front of her. She snorted and poked his ribs. "Feel better, do you?" When his only response was to begin cleaning his paw, she sighed and rubbed his ear. "This is going to work, right?" she asked him quietly. In the following silence, she took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Somehow, she felt both helpless and self assured. She could do this; what other option did she have?


Severus stood in front of his wardrobe, frowning at its contents. Dressed in slacks and a white button down shirt, he stared at his frock coat and robes with internal conflictions. Normally, when he was home, he forwent the heavier items in lieu of a more comfortable style, but as he stared at himself in the standing mirror, he felt... exposed. There was something vulnerable about being so underdressed around another person after being as put together as he had been for so many decades. Plus, the lack of high collar left his neck bare, and even before his scarring he had felt better with it covered.

Pushing his hair away from his neck, he studied the scars Nagini had left him. They were by no means the first of such marks his body bore, but the reminder of his near-death experience unsettled him. The scars themselves were not terrible, all things considered- while ragged, raised, and pink, they weren't even all that noticeable behind his hair. The healers had done an incredible job, considering the severity of the injury.

Still, it wasn't something he enjoyed showing off, even when he knew she was well aware of them. For Merlin's sake, she personally saw to their care at one point.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered angrily as he slammed the wardrobe closed. It's bad enough she's invading my privacy; I'm not giving her the right to dictate my comfort in my own bloody home!

He sank onto his bed, crouching to slide on his black socks and the dark loafers he preferred to wear at home. Running his fingers through his hair, he stood once more and faced the door, taking in a deep breath before committing to his decision and entering the hall.

He could hear her teacup clinking in the kitchen and braced himself before entering the room, walking through the doorway with an assurance he did not feel before halting abruptly, eyes widening at the sight of her.

She was sitting at the small kitchen table with an open book in front of her, the curtains pulled back from the window, and as the sun hit her unruly hair the chestnut curls seemed to glow with a golden light. She wore a plain blouse of soft cream, its sleeves hugging her small wrists, with a pair of light jeans and black flats. It was so simple, and yet she looked... elegant. Mature. It was like he was seeing her for the first time.

Her delicate fingers stirred her tea absentmindedly as she read, frowning slightly in concentration as she tucked a curl behind her ear. She looked up from her book when he entered, and as she graced him with a shy smile, her eyes gleamed in the sun.

"Good morning, Master Snape," she greeted, and her bright eyes studied him with interest. He knew she was taking in his altered state of dress just as he was to her, and tried not to squirm under her scrutiny as he returned her greeting. A tinge of pink gracing her cheeks, she gestured to the chair across from her. "Can I pour you a cup of tea?" she asked. "I hope you don't mind that I prepared a pot."

"I don't mind," he said simply as he slowly approached the table, taking the seat across from her. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he stop staring?

He watched her carefully as she bustled about the kitchen, fetching a teacup and asking him what his preferences were as she prepared the drink to his specifications. He couldn't remember the last time he saw her without a robe over her clothes, hiding the more intimate curves of her body that were much more apparent to him now. By the time he had the tea in front of him and she was sitting back down, he had regained his composure, but only just.

They sat in silence for quite a while, her turning back to her book as he studied the street beyond the window. He had never been a deep conversationalist in the mornings, but he felt inclined to speak regardless, if only to break this awkward, growing tension he felt within. He cleared his throat, and glanced her way.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, kicking himself for relying on the most basic of morning small talk. Merlin, what was with him today?

It didn't seem to bother her, for she answered him easily enough in the affirmative. "The potion wore off about an hour ago," she answered him without looking up from her text. She paused a moment, finishing what she was reading, before glancing up at him. "Thank you again, by the way. I don't know if I would have been able to sleep much without it."

He shook his head in silent dismissal as he took another sip of tea. "Your thanks is not necessary. I simply saw a need, and filled it."

"Ah yes," she teased, "I had forgotten about your famed altruism." He snorted into his teacup.

A moment passed between the two of them, and Severus studied the remnants of his drink in silent contemplation when she asked hesitantly, "So, erm... what are your plans for the morning?"

Glancing up quickly, he cleared his throat and shrugged. "I hadn't given it much thought, honestly," he admitted. "I suppose I could spend some time brewing. I regrettably had to dispose of the potions I had been in the midst of working on with all of the activity of yesterday. I have a bit of catch-up to do, I'm afraid."

She frowned and looked down at her book once more, but not before he could see the redness in her cheeks. His brow furrowed as he regretted his ill-thought wording. "You are not to blame for that," he assured her. When no answer came, he sighed. "Hermione, if I am not to blame for any of this, surely you must realize that you are even less at fault."

"I know," she answered reluctantly, closing her book with care. Her gaze fell to the window, and she rested her chin on her hand as she replied, "It's just all so unfair. I don't mean to burden anyone, yet it seems I'm destined to do just that. I wish-"

When she didn't continue, he shook his head. "Mulling over the 'what-ifs' of a situation will get you nowhere. Believe me, much of my life has been wasted doing just that." He tapped the table, and her eyes followed the action of his fingers. "The 'here and now' is what we need to concern ourselves with. I think it's high time we discussed that."

"Discuss... what?" she asked, looking from his hand to his face.

"Our current living situation, for starters. I'm sure you have your reservations; I know I have a few. It would be good to air out our concerns sooner, rather than later."

She nodded, worrying her lip between her teeth as she studied the table before her. "Yes," she answered, "I think that would be a good place to start. What are your concerns?"

He had hoped that they would tackle her concerns first, but he nonetheless answered her. "I am not terribly perturbed about what you do in your personal spaces, and you are welcome to spend as much time as you wish in both the kitchen and the living room, but I must ask that you refrain from entering my private rooms. That includes," he added, "my private lab."

A flicker of disappointment crossed her face as he specified his labratory, but she nodded in agreement. "That's only fair," she replied. "Anything else?"

"Yes." He gestured towards the hall and the living room beyond. "It should not surprise you to know that I have in my possession some items of... a darker persuasion. I request that you control your insatiable curiosity when it comes to my belongings and ask before touching anything. That goes for my books, as well. If you want to read something, ask first."

"You'll let me read your books?" Her eyes grew large in predictable excitement, and he huffed, a small smile crossing his face.

"Some of my books," he clarified, and she nodded in understanding. "As far as any other concerns I have, I can't imagine you are the loud, rowdy sort of roommate, but due to your unfortunate status as a member of Gryffindor House I feel I should specify that I am used to a quiet living arrangement. Do you anticipate this being a problem?"

He took great joy in her puff of annoyance at his assumption. "This house slander must stop if there is to be any civility between us," she muttered as she rolled her eyes. "No, I am not a loud roommate- my goodness, it's like you don't even know me at all!" At seeing his ill-controlled grin, her lips twitched and she let out a soft laugh as she looked back out the window. "Trust me when I say your prized silence will be well kept, Master Snape."

"Severus."

Her head flipped around so quickly that her hair bounced across her face, momentarily concealing her wide-eyed expression of shock. "What?"

"You may call me Severus." Pushing his tea to the side, he placed his arms on the table and leaned forward. "You have been gracious enough to give me permission to use your given name; it is only fair that I offer you the same courtesy."

He watched as her eyes narrowed in an effort to understand the gesture, and he began to doubt his timing. "Of course, if you'd rather not-"

"No, no, it isn't that!" She hurried to assure him. "It's just..." studying him in her pause, she asked, "Why now? And why are you suddenly using my given name, after refusing for so long?"

He smirked, sitting back in his chair as he looked her over with a raised eyebrow. When he didn't answer, her jaw dropped in indignation. "This whole time you've been refusing because it amused you?"

"I believe I specified that, yes."

"You swine!"

Her insult would have had more impact if she hadn't been laughing as she said it. As it were, he found himself relieved as he listened to her chuckling. A smile on her face, she bowed her head towards him. "I thank you for your kindness... Severus. As belated as it was."

He experienced a strange excitement at hearing his name from her lips, a feeling that set him on edge and made him well aware of the fact that it was truly just the two of them here, in his home, alone. He shifted and coughed, acknowledging her thanks with a shrug before asking, "Now, do you have any concerns you wish to address?"

Her eyes fell to the tabletop once more as she frowned in thought. "I guess..." she began, unsure, "as far as my space... You won't..."

"I will not impose upon your space without your express permission, or without a legitimate reason to assume my presence would be needed." He leaned forward again, holding her gaze as he added, "I want you to feel comfortable here, Hermione. You are not a child, and your quarters are not a part of my home. As far as I'm concerned, that space does not belong to me in the slightest."

She nodded, and he could see her confidence growing. "Anything else?" he asked.

"Just one thing." Her eyes drifted to the doorway, where her cat could be seen lounging on the floor of the hall. "Would it be possible to allow Crookshanks access to the garden?" she asked. "I can erect barriers to keep him within the property line, and he won't disturb your planter boxes. He prefers grass over dirt, anyway."

He eyed the cat with suspicion before sighing. Far be it from him to allow her the one thing she was requesting of him. "We can put in a cat door for him," he agreed. "As long as he doesn't do his business on my potions ingredients."

She snorted. "I can put a barrier around them as well, if you'd like," she offered. "Just to be sure." He nodded.

"You have no other concerns?" he asked, eyeing her warily. She shook her head, and he rose from the table, collecting their teacups. "Then I suppose we should discuss breakfast now," he said as he moved to the sink. "Any preferences?"


By the time the Headmistress had arrived that afternoon, Hermione had set up the barriers in the garden and transfigured a cat flap into the back door. She was watching Crookshanks from her window upstairs, laughing at his attempt to paw through the magic preventing him from escaping, when she heard the telltale whoosh of the floo.

She was halfway down the stairs when she heard a door open and shut behind her, and met Severus as they both reached the foot of the stairs. He grunted a greeting, and gestured her into the living area ahead of him, following directly behind her.

"There you two are," McGonagall greeted as she moved forward to embrace Hermione. Holding her out at arms length, she scrutinized her young charge. "I see Severus hasn't eaten you yet," she smirked.

Behind her, she could hear Severus sigh. "I'm still here," she assured the older woman with a laugh, and they both sat on the couch, leaving Severus to pull out his desk chair.

"You're well?" When Hermione nodded, she smiled in relief. "Good. And how are you faring, Severus? I see you've dressed down for the occasion."

"I fail to see why I should abide by a certain dress code in my own home, Minerva," he said with a roll of his eyes. "What news have you brought us?"

"News can wait," she said with a wave of her hand, leaning over to grab a small satchel from the ground that Hermione hadn't noticed before. "I have deliveries to make."

The Headmistress reached in a pocket of the satchel and removed three envelopes, handing them to Hermione with a smile. "Your friends were more than eager to send word, my dear. They were more than eager to Imperius me and force me to lead them to you, as well, but they restrained themselves quite admirably." Severus scoffed, but the women ignored him. "As for your coursework, I have additional reading for both Charms and Ancient Runes so far. Professor Vector wanted me to tell you that she'll be sending something along as well-"

"That won't be necessary," interrupted Severus with a wave towards his bookshelves. "I have a few advanced tomes on the subject that she is more than welcome to."

Hermione's wide eyed stare moved from his face to the bookshelves and back. "You're giving me permission to read your Arithmancy books?" When he nodded, she gifted him with a grateful smile. "Thank you, sir, I really appreciate it!"

He waved her thanks away and addressed McGonagall once more. "Don't bother your dunderheaded Defense Professor either, Minerva. I'm sure whatever he would send along, Hermione has already memorized her first year."

Hermione's cheeks warmed at that, and she glanced at McGonagall guiltily. She hadn't meant to bad-talk Professor Badington in her letters, and she certainly hadn't meant it to get back to the Headmistress in any sort of way. To her relief, however, McGonagall laughed. "Too true," she agreed with the wizard. "As far as I'm concerned, hiring him has so far been my biggest failure to the school."

"Rest assured your hiring failures pale in comparison to your predecessor," Severus replied dryly, resulting in an unladylike snort from the older witch. "At least you didn't willingly hire Gilderoy Lockhart."

Hermione stifled her own amused snort.

"Yes, I can only imagine how desperately Albus was scraping the bottom of the barrel that year," the Headmistress muttered with a smirk. "But you forget that you are my predecessor, Severus, not Albus."

"Yes, but as I was not in control of the hiring, any failures in that department simply cannot be held against me."

McGonagall nodded. "That is more than fair," she relented. "I shall inform Albus that he retains the championship for Worst Professorial Hire once I return."

"Be sure to remind him of the time he hired a man with the Dark Lord literally on the back of his head," Severus requested. "Oh, and about the time he swore the werewolf would be safe and responsible regarding his transformations. And really rub in the fact that Alastor spent the year locked in his own bloody chest, right under his nose." Grinning like a schoolboy, he opened his mouth again when McGonagall cut him off.

"Dolores was a Ministry plant, Severus. You can't hold that against him."

"I can certainly try."

Hermione looked on in mild disbelief as two of her former professors, two professors she hadn't particularly gotten the impression of getting along in the past, bantered like old friends. She felt as though she was impeding upon them and their joviality. "Professor?" she asked shyly. "Do you mind if I-"

"Oh of course, my dear!" she smiled. "Go on, reply to your letters. We will be here."

With a hurried thanks, Hermione made her way back up the stairs.

Sitting at the large desk, she set the letters down before her. She recognized Harry's script on the envelope of the first, and Ginny's on the second, but where she had half expected- and dreaded- to see Ron's handwriting on the third, she blew a sigh of relief when she recognized Hagrid's messy scrawl. Deciding to start with Harry's, she slid her finger under the seal and removed the parchment.

Hermione,

Kingsley told me everything that had happened before McGonagall even gave me your letter. I promise you, the Aurors are looking into it. I know the men that were sent to examine the forest and surrounding areas- if there's anything to find, they'll find it. I'm in absolute shock that this has happened again, and I'm really sorry it's all happening to you, of all people! I'm just glad you made it out in one piece. Thank you for letting me know you're safe, I feel so much better hearing it (well, reading it) from you personally.

I can't believe you're moving into Snape's house! Good thing you're friends now, or I can only imagine how awkward that would be. I'm glad you aren't alone, and I understand why you chose to go there, but you know that I would have been glad to have you at Grimmauld Place. It's a big house, Mione- I'm sure we could have made it work. If anything goes wrong with Snape, or if you ever change your mind, consider this my open invitation to move in.

Ron knows about the attack, obviously. He's asked me to tell you that he's really, really glad you're safe. He feels awful about it all- he's volunteered himself as an errand boy on his off days for the aurors on your case. I haven't seen him this focused on work since we started. I don't know if he's going to write or not, but I just wanted to let you know that he's thinking about you, in case it helps.

McGonagall is giving me annoyed side looks, so I'm going to wrap it up here, but I will be writing to you again as soon as we have more information. Do you think Snape would let me stop by? What do you think my chances are that I'd make it past the hearth?

I love you, Mione. Stay safe.

Harry

With a long, sad sigh Hermione set the letter down in front of her. Seeing his familiar writing and reading his words just made her miss him that much more. "If only you could visit," she whispered, but chuckled soon after as she imagined Severus' response to her request. Wiping a sorrowful tear from her eye, she sniffed and picked up the next envelope.

Ginny's letter said much of the same as Harry's had; shock of the attack, sympathy for her, and disbelief that she would be living with "Snape, of all people!" Her letter added that the student body as a whole was aware that something had happened, but while they were as of yet not informed of the specifics, her absence from the castle would be noticed before long. Hermione supposed that in the interest of making sure the death eaters themselves were aware of her relocation, it would have to be made apparent sooner rather than later.

The third letter was the shortest- and wettest- of all. Hagrid's tear-stained letter offered apology after apology for putting her in a dangerous situation, and assured her that he harbored no hard feelings for her if she wished to drop his class. In fact, he encouraged it. He couldn't see a reason for her to remain enrolled after what had happened, and informed her that he was dropping the entire Thestral care from his lessons. It brought her mood down to read his self-hating words, and she quickly picked up a quill to write a response to him first. There was no reason for him to feel guilty, and she had no intention of dropping the class, as long as he didn't mind assigning her alternative work.


Severus watched a little too intently as Hermione all but ran from the room, and attempted to catch himself before Minerva had a chance to notice. When he turned to the witch still sitting on his couch, he saw a smirk on the woman's face and knew that he had failed. "Can I help you?" he snapped irritably, annoyed to have been caught staring.

Minerva ignored him and settled more comfortably onto the sofa. "So," she asked, "how did your first night go?"

"We're both still breathing," he muttered, "a fact you were sure to assess the moment you saw us."

The witch eyed him over her square spectacles. "Don't act as if my teasing has affected you so poorly. I know you can take it as well as you can give it."

"Perhaps I'm just sick of the assumption that the girl is going to befall any sort of harm in my presence." Any more harm, anyway.

"Oh hush," she waved as she summoned his tea service and began prepping a brew. He eyed the action with suspicion, raising an eyebrow. "I was merely checking in because, well, when I left last night she was still rather vulnerable."

Remembering their late night stargazing, Severus sighed and rubbed his eyes. "There may have been a moment," he admitted sourly, "but it was seen to appropriately."

"What kind of moment?" The witch glanced up briefly from her ministrations, and he frowned at the tea kettle.

"She was understandably depressed," he explained. "This year has been nothing but trials for her, and it's taking its toll."

"Yes," Minerva nodded, "I had the same impression from her last night. How was it 'seen to,' then?"

He shrugged his shoulders and simply said, "I talked to her." When the witch gave him a pointed look, he rolled his eyes and snapped, "If you want a play-by-play, you'll have to allow me a chance to purchase a new pensieve. Otherwise, trust that it went well."

"Did it now?" she said with a slight smile. Handing him a cup of tea, she sat back with her own and sipped the liquid before adding, "Well, I'm glad to hear it."

A long pause passed between the two before Minerva jerked, reaching once more into her bag. "Oh, I almost forgot! I have today's Daily Prophet for you."

"Are we featured?" he asked with a grimace as he leaned forward to take the offered paper.

"In everything but name," she gestured. "Kingsley thought this to be the best way to get word out that Hermione is no longer at the castle."

Setting his tea down onto his desk, Severus shook open the paper and frowned at the front page, which featured a large image of Hogwarts Castle under a dramatic headline.

DUEL ATTACK AT HOGWARTS AND HOGSMEADE:
HEADMISTRESS AND MINISTER ADDRESS SAFETY CONCERNS

"When did you have time to sit for an interview?" he asked, glancing over the top of the paper at her.

"While Kingsley was dealing with the Hogsmeade officials," she answered, gesturing to the article. "Legally I had to report the incident, so I took advantage of the fact that I was already at the Ministry and took care of this."

"Always resourceful, you are," he muttered as he turned back to the Prophet.

Early yesterday morning a Hogwarts student was captured from the school grounds and taken to Hogsmeade, where an additional attack was made on a shopper and shopkeep in Pots Brew Apothecary. The Hogwarts student (currently unnamed) was reportedly on their way to the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest for a class assignment when the attack took place, and was immediately transported via portkey to Hogsmeade. The shopkeep, Travers Pots, alerted the authorities shortly after the attack took place.

Severus skimmed over Pots' rehashing of events and focused on the response the school and Ministry had put out.

"The school's wards are stable," Headmistress Minerva McGonagall assured reporters. "They have been checked and rechecked, and further protections are being added to the forest treeline." When asked about the class that had led a student out of the protections of the school, she said, "We have currently abandoned all activities that would bring the students close to the Forest itself and will not consider re-establishing them until the threat is dealt with and safety can be assured."

When asked about the unnamed student, the Headmistress assured the Prophet that they were safe off campus and would remain so until further notice.

The rest of the article delved into the specifics regarding the ministry's response, which was to do exactly as they have been- attempt to track down and arrest these men. Severus sighed and tossed the paper onto the coffee table, relieved that neither of them had been named specifically, but doubtful that would last long. At least, in Hermione's case. "The students aren't blind," he muttered, rubbing his hands over his face. "They'll piece together who's missing and come to the correct conclusion as to who the target was."

"Yes, I believe you are correct," Minerva agreed. "It will, however, buy us some time."

"To do what, exactly?" He ran a hand through his hair and leaned his head against the back of his chair. "Does Kingsley have an actual plan this time, or are we supposed to wait until they trip and fall into Azkaban?"

"Do you think they'd mind?" When his only response was a derisive snort, she added, "I believe the first thing Kingsley wants to do is get the ministry on the same bloody page. Apparently there's been some discourse in the ranks."

"That isn't new," he sighed, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees. "Who's causing trouble now?"

"He says he isn't at liberty to discuss it, but it's causing him sleepless nights and giving me a headache whenever I have to deal with him."

Their conversation was interrupted by footsteps on the stairs, and Hermione walked back in the room, glancing between the two. "Is everything all right?" she asked, eyeing the paper on the table between them.

"Yes, dear, of course," Minerva assured the girl, gesturing to the couch. "Come, sit, and have a spot of tea. Are those your correspondences? That was awfully fast."

Hermione nodded as she sat down, holding out the three replies. "There wasn't a lot to say," she shrugged, reaching for the Prophet. "Is that today's paper?"

Severus watched the young witch as she read over the article, lip caught between her teeth as she frowned at the words. "Well," she said when she had finished, "that was one way to get the word out." Setting the paper down gently, she looked at Severus and asked, "So, what now?"

"Now," he sighed, propping his arm up and leaning his chin on his hand, "We sit back while everyone else tries to sort this mess. Now, we wait."


She was listening to the sound of his quill, scratching incessantly across the parchment, from the other side of the wall- where she had been for the last five minutes, trying to convince herself to move. Come on, Hermione. Just walk in. He said you were welcome to use the living room, so why are you hesitating? Yet despite her internal monologue, her feet remained glued to the floor at the base of the stairs.

She knew why she was hesitating, of course. She had yet to actually approach him. From the moment she was taken to him in Hogsmeade, he had always happened upon her, and between her awkward realization over her true feelings for him and the fact that this was his house, she couldn't help but feel like she would be an unwanted distraction. Truth be told, she wouldn't even have attempted seeking him out if it weren't for the fact that she needed those books he had promised her. She couldn't fill out her timetable without them.

I'll just ask for them in the morning, she decided, defeated by her own cowardice, before she turned towards the stairs. Her hand had barely touched the railing, however, when his quill went silent.

"Are you going to lurk in the hallway the rest of the night, or are you going to come in and tell me what it is you need?"

Cheeks warming at having been discovered, Hermione grimaced and stepped through the doorway, lingering with her hand on the doorjamb. "I was afraid I would be interrupting-"

"I assure you nothing I am currently working on is so important that it cannot wait a moment." Leaning back in his chair, Severus studied her with interest. "What is it?"

"Nothing that can't wait until-"

"Hermione." His eyebrow raised, and he tilted his head. "You can tell me. I'm not going to bite your head off."

Rubbing her neck, she walked over to the couch and sat gingerly against the cushion closest to him. "I know, I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm so flustered." Clearing her throat, she answered his question. "I'm working on a study schedule," she began, "and I'm writing down the additional reading for the subjects I have books for. I was wondering if now was a good time to... ask for the books you offered me?"

He nodded as he stood. "Now is as good a time as any. Come, I'll hand them to you as I find them."

She followed him to the wall of bookshelves, quietly studying him as he perused the titles. His eyes narrowed in concentration and his long, thin fingers danced across the spines, removing the occasional tome with an assured pull before handing it to her briskly, not even bothering to look her way as he continued his search. His thin white shirt, so different from his usual stiff wool, accentuated his movements with each flex, each reach of his arm; it teased at what was underneath- a sinewy build wrapped in pale skin. The ends of his hair teased his shoulders, and for the first time since the hospital tent on the school grounds, Hermione caught a glimpse of the ragged scars she had so carefully seen to. Pink and raised, she fought the urge to brush her fingers across them. She took much pleasure in being so close to him, and knew in that moment that whatever she was feeling was more than just a schoolgirl crush.

When he bent down and muttered about a specific book on counter curses, she forced her eyes high up on the shelves.

Soon enough, her arms were weighed down with eight different books of varying thicknesses and sizes, and Severus smirked as he watched her shift them carefully in her arms. "Do you require a trolley," he asked, "or will you manage on your own?"

"A trolley would be great, actually," she huffed as she set the stack of books on the end table. "What's that huge one? It must weigh a stone!"

"That is one of the few books on Ancient Runes I own. It's the most comprehensive translation guide I've found, and has proven to be immensely beneficial to my research over the years."

Looking at the oversized tome with more appreciation, Hermione glanced over the other titles in the stack. "You've given me a book for nearly every class!"

"Yes, forgive me for not having a terribly large collection of books on the care of magical creatures." He leaned against the bookshelf and crossed his arms. "I have plenty on the magical properties of their body parts, but as you've so carelessly dropped Potions I doubt you'd find yourself in need of it."

"I only dropped potions because I couldn't handle Slughorn's instruction for another year," she said as she mirrored his pose against the back of the couch. "A Potions Master with no natural intuition is a poor follow-up to your expertise."

His eyebow rose as a smug smirk graced his face. "Flattery will get you no more books tonight, Hermione."

She laughed, uncrossing her arms. "Well, it was worth a shot." Turning back to the stack of books, she rolled her shoulders and started to rearrange them in her arms. "I'll let you get back to what you were doing then," she said as she made her way towards the door. "I'll just come back for the rest in a moment, I don't think I can carry them all up the stairs at once." Holding the books to her chest, she turned back to him with a small smile. "Thank you," she said sincerely. "This is more than I had expected. I really appreciate it."

Exiting the room before he could respond, she hurried to deposit the books onto her desk before scurrying back down the stairs to collect the largest of the tomes. She halted on the stairs, however, when she came face to face with Severus, who was holding the small stack of books out for her. When she reached out for them with a quiet thanks, he pulled them back out of reach. She looked at him in confusion, and her eyes widened at the unsettled look on his face.

"I meant it when I said you could make use of the living room at any point," he told her in a soft voice. "I don't want you to feel like you have to tiptoe around me."

"Okay," she whispered, nodding briefly.

It looked like he was going to say something else, but he thought the better of it. Shoving the book into her arms, he turned around and returned to the living room. Hermione remained there on the steps, frozen in confusion, until the sound of his quill could be heard again. With a shake of her head and confused thoughts clouding her mind, she retreated back to her rooms.


With an angry yell, Carden balled up the letter and threw it into the empty hearth in front of him, lighting it ablaze with a harsh gesture of his wand. The rain-soaked owl that had delivered the letter squawked in surprise as he turned and kicked over a side table, flying to the other side of the room to preen itself anxiously. "Those IDIOTS!" he roared, pulling at his hair. "How hard is it to kill a single man?! I ought to kill them myself!"

How in the hell are these men still walking free?! he asked himself as he began to furiously pace his study. He needed to come up with another plan of action. It was time for him to get involved.

"Juni." The house elf popped into the room instantly, and he wasted no time in pleasantries. "Go and find Greyback. Tell him to report to me immediately. It's time he shows himself to be useful."

As the elf disappeared, Carden growled in displeasure. It seems his return trip was being moved up, and he wasn't planning on making it alone.