A/N: Uh... hey! It's been a while! I bet you're wondering why... and to that I finally have an answer for you: I had a freakin baby!
Long short- Nine years of infertility, 3 fertility treatments, and 40 weeks later, my husband and I finally got the child we've wanted for a long time. And pregnancy was not that easy on me, as uncomplicated as it was. Any time I had energy, I wanted to use it to get the house ready. I nested hard lol. But our girl is turning 3 months in a handful of days, is developing a routine, and is giving me some free time to do what I've finally had a strong urge to do- work on this damn story!
As far as updates go from this point on, honestly, it depends on how much time Baby gives me to work on it. I wish I could say I have a ton written out ahead of this, but that would be a lie- I have measly partial scene written beyond this. But I've definitely regained my writing bug, so hopefully you won't be waiting long!
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this next chapter :)
Chapter Thirty Six
For the next two weeks Severus and Hermione attempted to return to their normal routine. Classes resumed, and with them a rather brief visit from the Headmistress. In a haze, McGonagall simply dropped off provisions and her schoolwork and claimed to have the workload of three school administrators in her lap before rushing back to her office. Severus reassured Hermione, who was certain that something was wrong, that the witch was most likely telling the truth- the start of the term was always incredibly hectic.
With an increase in schoolwork to focus on, she started to spend more time to herself, sequestered to her rooms or lost in a book for hours at a time. Which served Severus well enough, as his return to the lab came with an increased workload that afforded him little free time. Though Hermione was more than willing to assist him, Severus shook off her efforts, firm in his opinion that her schooling came first.
Thus, they fell into a familiar rhythm, one that closely mirrored Hermione's early days in the cottage. It wasn't all the same though; the most noticeable difference was in the evenings after dinner, where instead of sitting in his chair, Severus joined her on the couch. Their intellectual conversations grew just as heated as they normally would, but- to Hermione's surprise and annoyed pleasure- Severus had found a new way to cut off her winning argument.
"That isn't fair!" she exclaimed as Severus pulled away, a smirk on his damnable face. "You can't just kiss me every time I have a better point than you!"
"What was your point again?"
"It-" Finding she couldn't remember what, exactly, she had been saying, Hermione growled and shoved his shoulder. She glared, ignoring his hearty laughter and snapped, "You are truly deplorable. This is by no means a win for you, I'll have you know!"
"Oh, I beg to differ," he grinned, leaning forward and capturing her lips once more.
A chill wind blew through the dark alley, and Harry, shivering, pulled his cloak tighter around his body. Rubbing his icy hands together, he once again cursed the rumor mill that had sent him out to loiter in Knockturn Alley on a cold, wet day such as this. Really, how important is this contraband anyway? He had a high suspicion that his superior was sending him out on wild goose chases to keep him out of his hair.
The full moon had come and gone, with no word of any further attacks. While he initially breathed a sigh of relief, he soon found the silence to be more of a concern than a comfort. "What did they do," he had asked Kingsley the other day, "take off for the holidays?" When the older man had no better ideas, he had let the matter drop, but his thoughts were still plagued by snarling fangs and flailing limbs and eyes fading into death.
A clock tower rang in the distance, pulling Harry out of his morose thoughts. Counting the chimes, and shrugging away from the shadows behind him, he began walking to his next lookout. As expected, and to his great annoyance, his day so far had been horribly uneventful.
Until he rounded a corner and a blunt force nearly knocked him off his feet.
Catching himself on a stack of crates, Harry regained his balance and looked up into the face of a thin and bedraggled man, with a head of wild, unkept hair and an equally untamed scraggle of facial hair. His eyes flashed in recognition as he took in Harry's face from under the cloak, and he blanched in fear. Before Harry could speak or reach out in any way, the stranger turned and fled in the opposite direction.
"Hey- Wait!" Cursing his slow reaction time, he sped through the crowd in pursuit of the man he was sure he had correctly identified as Julien Gurth.
Wand in hand, he only made it a few feet before the first hex was thrown. Erecting a hasty shield, he grimaced as the spell ricocheted into a small cart to the side and exploded. Ignoring the angry shouting behind him, he shoved past a couple exiting a storefront and shielded another attack, this time absorbing the blow.
Gurth gave up firing spells and focused his efforts once more on fleeing. The street was growing thick with shoppers now, and Harry found it hard to maneuver amongst the growing crowd. Jostled in his attempts, he stumbled into the side of a balding, frowning shopkeep. "Oi, you mental?!" The man called out.
"Watch it!" a woman snapped as he tripped over a small display in his attempt to right himself. Colorful orbs rolled out into the street, emitting large puffs of multicolored smoke and sending the woman into a conniption.
"Sorry!" Harry shouted behind him, desperately trying to maintain visual on Gurth. The smoke grew thick and blinding, sending him and those around him into fits of coughing. He threw his wand arm up and a gust of wind dispersed the clouds, clearing the air and blowing about the cloaks of the shoppers. Ignoring the cries of indignation from all around him, he jumped up onto a wooden box nearby and scanned the way ahead.
There- his target was at the end of the street, fighting his way through a crowd of shoppers. A gap opened up in the front, and Harry turned in place, appearing at the edge of the group of pedestrians. He sent a harmless blast into the air, scattering them all.
"Gurth!" he shouted, pursuing the man again. "In the name of the Ministry of Magic, I order you to-"
The rest of his statement was cut off, however, when Gurth sent a stunning curse over his shoulder. Shielding against it, Harry gritted his teeth and sent a simple leg locker in return, but the spell missed as Gurth threw himself in a nearby alleyway. Instead, it hit an old man, who stumbled into Harry's arms as he tried to pursue him.
"My apologies," he mumbled quickly as he struggled to disengage himself.
Finally free, Harry ran headfirst into the alleyway only to be met with a dead end, a faint flash of green illuminating the space for the briefest of moments.
The alley was short and narrow, and three walls surrounded him as he stepped further into its shadows. Trash was piled up in the back right corner, and the telltale squeak of rats could be heard from inside it. To the left, a partially open door creaked as it swung on its handle.
Casting a few revealing charms, he surveyed the space for any harmful wards. There were none. Lighting his wand, he reached out and threw open the door, putting himself in a defensive position as he scanned the surroundings.
It was barely a shop, let alone a room. The place was dark and dusty, and empty save for a single table and a fireplace at the far end. A small bowl of floo powder sat on the mantle, and ash dusted the floor. When Harry bent down to touch the stones of the hearth, they were warm.
An intense feeling of frustration rose up in him, and as he turned from the fireplace he kicked the leg of the table, sending it scattering into the far wall.
"You won't change my mind, Hermione, so I would suggest dropping the subject."
Following Severus into the living room, Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and watched as he approached the bookshelves. "Your reasoning makes no sense. If it made sense, I would drop it."
Pulling his hand back from the book he had been reaching for, he pinched the bridge of his nose with an exasperated sigh. "I have made my decision."
"I understand that; I just don't agree with it."
"Well it's fortunate for me that it's my lab then and thus my decision to make," he muttered, retrieving the book from the shelf and flipping through its pages.
"Severus..." Taking a deep breath, Hermione took a step closer to him. "You're overwhelmed. All week you've been in there well past nightfall, and even when you leave the lab you're obsessing over what needs to be done. We haven't had a conversation in the past four days, let alone a meal together. If you would just let me help-"
Closing the book with a snap, he turned towards her with forced patience. "I need complete concentration whilst brewing. To allow a single distraction could be disastrous-"
"Am I really that distracting to you?" she asked, and he stared at her incredulously.
"Are you telling me that I am not in the least bit distracting to you?"
"Of course you are, but I'm sure that in a professional environment-"
With a curious glint in his eye, Severus stepped closer. "Humor me a moment, Hermione," he said softly as he held the book out to her.
She stared at the book with suspicion before reaching out, and he continued. "Say I were to hand you an ingredient, and our fingers just..."
As her fingers grazed his, a shock of electricity flowed between the two. In response, Severus dropped the book and grasped her hand tightly, pulling her close and eliciting a small gasp from her. Glancing into his suddenly heated eyes, she watched as he took his other hand and spread her fingers gently. "Or perhaps, you cut yourself again... and in my hurry to heal you-"
"I can heal myself," she breathed, and when he met her gaze his stare sent shivers down her spine.
Raising her hand, he placed a delicate kiss to her palm. "Not to my satisfaction."
Gulping, she tried fervently to clear the fog that had filled her mind. "It wasn't an issue before," she argued, desperate to stand her ground. "We'd been able to brew without issue for weeks."
"It was hard enough, knowing I couldn't touch you," he said softly as he dropped her hand. He walked behind her, allowing her to breathe freely again, before continuing. "Now, though... when all I have to do is reach out..."
His fingers grazed her shoulder, and she startled. His other hand came up, tracing the line of her neck, and her eyes closed involuntarily. When he spoke, his words were whispered directly into her ear; she practically melted against him, her heart hammering. "When the only thing stopping me from kissing you is the cauldrons between us, potions tend to lose their value.
"Tell me, Hermione," he asked, pulling her closer so that she could feel how badly he wanted her. "Would you be able to keep your concentration? Or would your mind... lead you down a different path?"
"Shut up and kiss me," she hissed, turning in his arms and pressing her mouth to his.
The slight upturn of his lips was the only indication that he had known exactly what he was doing, but she couldn't bring herself to care as her stomach did flips with each pass of his tongue on hers.
When the fireplace turned green and Severus shoved her from his arms, she had half a mind to curse whoever stepped through the flames the moment their form became clear enough at which to aim. When the Headmistress settled soundly in the living room, she looked between the two of them and smirked.
"A word to the wise- if you have any hope of keeping this little tete-a-tete secret, I would consider keeping all further snogging sessions out of the direct line of sight of the fireplace."
Momentarily shocked by the words being spoken, Hermione grabbed the back of the couch. Looking accusatorially at Severus, who was pink cheeked and retreating to his desk, her eyes widened. "You know?" she asked the headmistress, then whipped her head back towards the man collapsing in his seat. "She knows!"
"Of course she bloody knows," he muttered, rubbing his face with his hands. "She knows everything about my life before I do. For a headstrong Gryffindor, she's obnoxiously perceptive."
McGonagall chuckled softly to herself as she took a seat in the wingback chair. "Do not fret, Hermione dear. I think it is wonderful."
"But-" With an intense feeling of whiplash, Hermione stumbled around the couch and collapsed into it. "How do you know? How long have you known?"
When the headmistress glanced at Severus, the man dropped his hands in his lap with a heavy breath. "That isn't important right now. Why are you here, Minerva? It isn't Sunday. Has something happened?"
Before a response could be made, the fireplace flared green once more and, to her surprise and joy, Harry stepped out of the flames and onto the hearth. Ignoring Severus' annoyed groan, Hermione jumped up from the couch and ran to hug her friend. "Harry! What are you doing here?!" she asked.
"Yes, Potter," snapped Severus. "Why have you brought it upon yourself to invade my home yet again without invitation?"
"As if you'd extend one," muttered McGonagall, which earned her a glare from the dark wizard.
"That is not the point. Well, Potter? Has no one taught you the proper ettiquete in these matters?"
"Kingsley is on his way to explain," Harry answered, looking carefully around the room as if he were searching for something.
"Well- here, come sit with me while we wait," Hermione offered, a bit taken aback by his response- or lack thereof. Guiding him gently to the couch, she couldn't help but notice how his gaze fell everywhere but on her or Severus.
She took a moment to study him as they sat in silence. His downtrodden face, his drooped shoulders, and the fact that he wouldn't look at her all stood out to her as strange and disquieting. Sharing a concerned glance with Severus, she opened her mouth, but only managed "Are you-?" before the floo activated and the Minister stepped through.
Kingsley Shacklebolt looked around at the gathered group and said, "Good, Potter- you're here already. Any trouble with Mathers?"
"No, sir. Not more than expected." Harry shifted in his seat, tapping his fingers against his thigh in agitation. "He wishes to meet with you this afternoon."
The minister waved off the comment. "We'll see about that. Minerva, glad to see you've made it. Severus, Hermione- it's good to see you both."
Severus, who had grown agitated in the lack of explanation thus far, spoke in an unnecessarily harsh tone. "And to what do I owe the pleasure of this gathering?"
The minister looked at Harry, nodding, but it took him a moment before her friend said anything. Finally, looking at a spot of carpet in between them, he said softly, "Julien Gurth was spotted in Knockturn Alley this morning."
Hermione's sharp intake of breath was accompanied by a gasp from the Headmistress, and when she looked at Severus his brow was furrowed. "By whom?" he asked, and as she noticed his accusatory stare, she understood why Harry hadn't deigned to look at her yet.
"Harry?" she asked. "It was you, wasn't it? You saw him."
Grimacing, the young auror nodded and looked into the flames of the fireplace. "I was on a scouting mission looking for counterfeit trades. He quite literally ran into me as I was leaving."
"And you let him get away, I take it," Severus said with a sigh as he rubbed his forehead.
Harry bristled. "It isn't like I just let him walk out without a-"
"Harry, don't defend yourself to him," Minerva interrupted, holding her hand up. "I'm sure you did all you could do."
"Well, I certainly tried," muttered Harry as he glanced guiltily towards Hermione. "'Mione, I'm sorry. I tried to apprehend him, I really did-"
Reaching out to take Harry's hand, she shook her head and smiled as supportively as she could. "I believe you. It's okay."
"No it most certainly is not 'okay'!" Severus snapped, staring incredulously at Hermione for a moment before turning towards the Minister. "I thought we were keeping him away from high profile missions. Why was he in Knockturn Alley in the first place?"
Glaring at Severus, she snapped, "Will you lay off him? He's doing his best!"
"And that isn't good enough!" he all but shouted in response.
Kingsley waved a hand at Harry, cutting off his retort. "Where Harry is or is not assigned is between him and the Lead Auror, not you, Severus."
"And who have you so happily appointed to the task?" Severus inquired unkindly.
"Davis Mathers," Kingsley answered with a grimace. "And I wouldn't say I was happy to do so. But of all the candidates, he is as uncorrupt as we could hope for, and is Wizengamot approved."
A sudden thought crossed Hermione's mind, drowning out Severus' response. When she stood abruptly, all eyes fell on her. She ignored them all as she stalked towards the doorway. "And where are you going?" Severus called after her; she didn't bother to look his way.
"I'm going to retrieve a pillow to smother you with," she snapped, before pulling out her wand and summoning an old copy of the Daily Prophet from her room. Flipping the paper open, she scanned the pages until she found an article tucked into the bottom of the third page. "Davis Mathers was on the run for a while, wasn't he?" she asked, perusing the words. "Wasn't he approached by the Death Eaters at one point?"
When she glanced at Severus, he was frowning at the floor. "Yes, the name is familiar. A wizard of relatively pure blood in an impactful position in the ministry. He was approached, and fled shortly after. Much like Horace Slughorn, he had no interest in the dealings of the Dark Lord and preferred to stay out of the fight." Looking up at Kingsley, he asked, "And he is who the Wizengamot wished to appoint as the lead of the Aurors?"
"If you think about it," Hermione interjected, holding up the paper, "he managed to hide from the Death Eaters for over a year. That takes a certain level of talent to be able to do so."
"I did not come here to defend my hiring choices, believe it or not," Kingsley snapped. "I came here to update you on our findings."
"Briefly spotting a wanted criminal is not what I would call an update," Severus muttered, to which Minerva seemed to take offense.
"I've had just about enough of you," she snapped, gesturing towards him with her wand. "What on earth has you acting this way? Did Crookshanks pee in your shoes this morning?"
"He isn't letting me assist him in the lab anymore," Hermione explained as she took her seat once more. "He's overworked and overtired."
"I'm fine," Severus argued with a glare, and Hermione turned back towards the group.
"So," she asked, "You saw Julien Gurth. What now?"
"Well," said Kingsley as he crossed his arms and leaned against the mantle, "we did find some rather interesting clues as to why he could have been there."
Harry turned to Hermione then, looking a little less like a downtrodden puppy but still not his usual, assured self. "You remember Dung, right?"
Ignoring the snort from behind her, Hermione nodded. "Mundungus Fletcher, of course. What's he got to do with this?"
"Well-" shifting to better face her, he briefly caught a glance at Severus from over Hermione's shoulder and frowned, but ultimately ignored him. "Ron told me that he heard from Fred and George that Dung deals with hideouts now. When I chased Gurth down, he disappeared into a single room off of an alley and vanished. The room had only a fireplace and floo powder inside, and the fireplace was laid thick with magic. Ron said that it felt like Dung's magic, but he's trying to get George involved to be sure."
"The Weasley twins have relations with Mundungus Fletcher?" asked Severus, before shaking his head. "Of course they do. I've never seen such a well stocked store in a time of war."
Hermione turned towards him quickly, momentarily forgetting her ire. "You've been to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?"
"Trust me, it was not by choice."
She opened her mouth to ask additional questions, but then decided that now was not the time to go down that set of queries. Turning back towards Harry, she asked, "So what does this all mean?"
"If I'm not mistaken," McGonagall spoke up, "It means we have a lead." Looking from Harry to Kingsley, she asked, "But will Mundungus help us?"
The Minister nodded. "If we offer him something good enough."
"According to Mathers," Harry explained, "Dung has a number of legal infractions that the ministry is willing to wave away. Giving him a clean slate would be very enticing and I think- Ron does, too- that he'd be more than willing to help us."
"The problem lies in finding him," said Kingsley, and- grimacing- Harry nodded.
"Well that should be simple enough," drawled Severus. "Just leave out your valuables and the rats come scuttling."
"Or ask the twins," the Headmistress mused. "Surely if they have dealings with him, they'd know how to get ahold of him?"
"We've considered that," said Kingsley, "but pulling civilians into ministry business isn't the easiest thing to do, especially now."
Severus frowned. "Has the Order been disbanded, then? Is this officially a ministry consult?"
"Of course not," McGonagall replied. "But we must be cautious with how we move forward-"
"Could Ron do it?" asked Hermione, blushing slightly when she realized she had just interrupted the Headmistress. "Sorry. I was just thinking- if Ron is tasked with finding Mundungus, perhaps the twins could accompany him in secret. I don't think they'd mind."
"I think they'd prefer the secrecy," said Harry with a smile.
"I wasn't aware Weasley had made enough of a name for himself to be trusted with that level of work," Severus sneered.
Kingsley rubbed his chin in contemplation. "If he volunteered, he would be turned away. However, were I to suggest the appointment-"
"Mathers is still new enough in the position to take the bait," finished Harry, eyes wide. "He would want to look good in the eyes of the Minister, and thus the Ministry itself."
"He does have a reputation to rebuild," said McGonagall in agreement.
"And if that doesn't work?" Asked Severus.
Kingsley shrugged. "Then we find a way to sneak the twins in anyway, though I'm confident it won't come to that."
"And until then," asked Hermione, "is there anything else that needs doing?"
"Yes, actually," said McGonagall, leaning forward in her seat. Staring straight at Severus, she answered her, "You could spend your spare time brewing."
"We aren't having this discussion," Severus growled, and Hermione threw her arms up in the air.
"Why isn't he letting you brew anymore?" Harry asked her, and for a moment all she could do was blink at him.
"She needs to focus on her course work," Severus answered in her stead, and she stifled the urge to send him a grateful look. She still disagreed with his banning her, after all.
"That's ridiculous," argued McGonagall. "Hermione helped you before winter break and did just fine."
With an exaggerated stare, Severus countered, "Things were different before winter break."
Harry frowned between the two of them. "I'm sure Hermione could handle it. She handled helping me every year just fine."
"Potter, you are the last person I'm going to defend my decisions against," Severus snapped, standing. "If it's all the same to you, Minister, I must return to the lab. Some of us still take pride in succeeding at our jobs."
As Severus left the room in a rush, the lack of billowing robes leaving something to be desired, Hermione rubbed her face. "You think Dung could find me a hideout?" she muttered behind her hands.
Harry rubbed her shoulder in solidarity. "My offer still stands, you know."
Dropping her hands, she smiled gratefully at her friend. "I know. And trust me, it's been tempting more than once. But I'm still happy here. Mostly," she added, frowning out into the hall.
After Harry and the Minister returned to the Ministry, McGonagall reluctantly took her leave as well, though not before letting Hermione in on a little secret.
"I take it Severus is being stubborn about you assisting him because of your new relationship," she guessed, and Hermione rolled her eyes.
"He thinks I'd be too distracted," she vented, crossing her arms. "Or too distracting."
"Probably both," the Headmistress said with a smile. At Hermione's frown, she patted the young witch's shoulder. "Don't give up on him yet. You can still support him even if he doesn't let you brew."
"I suppose," Hermione muttered, staring into the fire. "It's just... being here, there isn't much I can do to help anyone. Brewing gave me a feeling of usefulness that I hate to be without."
"Have you told him that?"
She shook her head. "I don't want to guilt him into something he's uncomfortable with. He's dealt with enough of that."
"Goodness knows he has," the headmistress agreed. "But you have every right to express yourself. What he does with the information he's given is entirely his decision. You have nothing to feel guilty about."
When Hermione only shrugged, McGonagall moved on. "Well, anyway, there is one more thing I thought you should know." She looked up at that, and noticed a particularly playful smirk spreading across her Headmistress' face.
"What would that be?" she asked suspiciously.
Leaning in conspiratorially, McGonagall whispered, "I suppose our brooding Potions Master failed to mention the fact that he's had a recent birthday?"
Hermione's eyes grew wide with shock. "No, he didn't say a word!"
Grinning from ear to ear, McGonagall leaned back. "He has never willingly celebrated his birthday since becoming a Professor," she admitted. "I doubt he celebrated it much as a child, either, thinking back on it. But I'm sure he could use some pampering regardless, belated though it may be." Winking, she stepped towards the fireplace. "Try to talk to him again, Hermione. I'm sure you'll figure out a way to offer assistance."
After a brief farewell, McGonagall floo'd back to Hogwarts, leaving Hermione standing alone in the living room. The Headmistress had given her some ideas, and she mulled them over as she stared out the window, all while also thinking, Why had I never asked about his birthday? And what could I possibly do for him?
Well, one thing's for certain, she thought as she turned towards the hall. I'm not about to let him work himself to death before his next one. Though doubtful it would make a difference, she walked over to the lab door. She wasn't giving up just yet.
The pounding behind his eyes worsened the longer he stood over the partially brewed antidote, the sickly sweet fumes turning his stomach. Just twelve more stirs, and he could move on. With each stir the potion gradually turned orange, and he slowly removed the stirring rod from the cauldron once it had reached the correct hue. Seven Wiggentree twigs later, and Severus collapsed onto the high stool behind him. The brew needed to simmer until losing all color. He could rest a moment. Head in his hands, he took slow, easy breaths to try to clear the pain.
A sound from the hall caused his shoulders to stiffen- a gentle jiggle of the door handle followed by a soft sigh. Hermione's voice, muffled by the door, pleaded with him. "Please let me in, Severus. I just want to talk."
He cast his gaze to the ceiling, growing more weary in an instant. Merlin above, will her determination never falter? When he didn't answer her, a soft thunk that he could only imagine was her forehead meeting the wood of the door made its way through to him. "I'm not leaving until you speak to me. I'll defend my case from here if I have to. I know you can hear me." A pause, and then she added, "Well, I think you can hear me. I can hear the potion bubbling, so I don't believe you've cast a silencing spell, but with you I can never be sure."
With an amused huff, Severus waved his hand at the door, unlocking it. The moment the distinct click of the lock sounded, Hermione threw it open, as if any amount of hesitation would cancel the spell and she would remain locked on the other side. "Make it quick," he told her as he leaned his elbows against the table. "I have to start on the bruise paste."
"I could-" Shaking her head, Hermione stopped what was most likely an offer of assistance. She closed the door behind her and stepped forward, approaching her usual side of the table. Pulling out her own stool, she sat across from him, never once taking her eyes off of him. It was unsettling.
After a few tense moments of silence where her staring became grating, he snapped, "Are you going to get to the point of this interruption or are you just going to waste my time?"
Her eyes hardened slightly. "Yes, I can see you're working very hard right now. Holding yourself upright must be a real challenge." He opened his mouth to retort, when she raised her hands palms out. "I apologize; that was harsh. And not at all what I meant to say when I came in here."
The pain behind his eyes was growing worse. "Then say what you intended and leave me to my work."
Pausing in contemplation, Hermione looked around the lab. "How long until you're caught up? How many potions do you have left to brew, and when is the deadline?"
Glaring suspiciously at her, he nonetheless answered, though he knew she would be displeased. "The bruise paste. This antidote. A few calming draughts. Blood replenisher. All done by Sunday."
Predictably, her eyes widened. "And in the two days you have to complete all that, when do you plan to sleep or eat?"
"I've told you before, Hermione-"
"You are not fine, Severus!" she nearly shouted, then took a breath before continuing more calmly, "I had a thought, a few minutes ago. Several, really. I wanted to run it all by you."
He remained silent, staring at her tiredly. She spoke quickly, as if trying to prevent him from interrupting. "I understand your arguments about us being in the lab together. I think you're wrong about the level of distraction we would pose to each other, but I'm willing to back down for your own comfort. However, I also think you're wrong in that I cannot help in any sort of capacity. Yes, I have regular schoolwork again, but you know that I have plenty of free time as well. You also know how much brewing helped me feel useful, and I don't know if you've realized it, but since you've banished me from this lab, I've become far less happy here."
That caused him to flinch. If she noticed, she gave him the kindness of not acknowledging it.
"So my proposal is this- twice a day, for an hour at a time, I take over for you. You eat, you rest, and you return after a full sixty minutes. You can dictate the times, and they can change based on what you're brewing, but twice a day you leave this lab.
"I'm not finished," she scolded as he opened his mouth. Frowning, he closed it once more. "At the end of the day, whenever that may be, you leave the lab as it is. I will then go in after you, clean up anything that needs to be cleaned, label anything that has yet to be labeled, and prep ingredients that you will need for the following day. I can also decant and package, if you'd like. It will be a maximum of three hours of busywork to help me feel useful again, and you get to maintain the privacy of your lab while also regaining the ability to sleep and eat."
She paused long enough for him to ask, "Are you finished?"
She deflated a bit at his words. "You don't think it's a good idea." Gesturing towards him, she argued, "You can't continue like this much longer, Severus! You're worried about me distracting you, but you're going to fall asleep in a boiling cauldron at this rate! I'm just trying to help you-"
"I didn't say it was a bad idea," he countered, and she floundered into silence. Truth be told, he was flattered that she was so concerned for his wellbeing. He had to admit that what she offered would be of great assistance to him, and he couldn't push down the guilt he felt at taking away the one thing keeping her sane during her confinement. Tapping his finger on his chin, he studied her carefully. "I don't need two hour-long breaks during the day. Help in the evening would suffice."
Sitting up straight, a glint formed in her eye as she opened her mouth to- well, he wasn't quite sure. She snapped her mouth closed a moment later and frowned at him. "You need to eat," she argued, before countering with, "two thirty-minute breaks."
The corner of his mouth rose in a slight smirk. "One thirty minute break."
She shook her head. "Not nearly enough time. One hour-long break."
She looked like she was enjoying this back and forth. And truthfully, he had to admit that he was as well. Gods, he had missed her these last few days. He tilted his head in agreement. "One hour-long break it is."
The joy that spread through her face at his words warmed his chest and left him feeling a bit dizzy.
"Can we start now?" she asked eagerly, standing from her stool. "You said the bruise paste was next, right? I could prepare the ingredients while you-"
Standing as well, he peered into his cauldron and interrupted her. "I have not quite finished this potion yet. Allow me to do so, and I will step out after to fix us some dinner. I can't imagine you've been thriving on feeding yourself."
He met her indignant stare with a tired smirk, and picked up the stirring rod again. "Away with you, before I change my mind."
"You'll call when you're ready for me?" she asked, her words suspicious. He couldn't blame her for that; it wouldn't be a farfetched assumption that he would simply lock her out again once she had left. Somewhat surprisingly, he had no plans to do so.
"I will call for you," he confirmed, and waved her away.
Late that evening, when he finally relinquished his lab to her, he was so tired he stumbled into his bedroom. Collapsing on his bed fully clothed, he didn't remember falling asleep. When he woke, the sun shining in his face, he felt as if he had slept for a full day.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he staggered out into the hall and nearly collided with Hermione, poised as if to knock on his bedroom door. "Oh good, you're up!" she greeted cheerfully, and it took him a groggy moment to interpret her words. "I made porridge for us and didn't want it to get cold. Will you join me?"
"What time is it?" he asked, closing the door behind him.
"It's half past seven," she replied as she walked down the hall. "I wanted to catch you before you sequestered yourself away again."
He followed her, frowning. "How late were you up last night? I didn't leave the lab until shortly after eleven. Have you slept?"
"A little," she admitted sheepishly, walking over to the stove to divvy up their porridge. "You only have the blood replenisher to do today, so ingredients prep wasn't very difficult. Bruise paste does not like coming out of a cauldron though- that admittedly took a while."
She turned to hand him his bowl, and he took it carefully. "Whatever happened to the importance of sleep?"
Carrying her own bowl to the table, she shrugged. "I managed about five hours. I've had worse sleep during finals."
"Hermione-"
"Oh don't 'Hermione' me," she snapped. "You'd been averaging what- three hours of sleep a night?" More kindly, she gestured to his seat and said, "I wanted to eat with you, Severus. I've missed you."
With that reminder in place, he sank heavily into his seat.
She poured them each a cup of tea before starting in on her food, all the while talking over what she had done last night to assist him. They were halfway through their meal when she asked, "I've been meaning to ask; when is your birthday?"
Lowering his spoon slowly, he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason," she shrugged, scraping some porridge off the side of her bowl. "I just thought- you know... it'd be a shame to miss it."
He set his spoon down so abruptly it clattered against the table. "Who told you?"
Barely suppressing a grin, she asked, "Whatever do you mean?"
"It was Minerva, wasn't it?" He pointed a finger in her direction. "Don't lie to me. Kingsley has more important things on his mind, and Potter wouldn't have a clue."
"She may have mentioned something," Hermione admitted, and Severus glared out into the hall as if she were lurking just past the threshold.
"Please don't tell me she's planning something," he groaned, and frowned at the laughter his statement brought on.
"To my knowledge she has no plans," Hermione assured him. "Though, I will say we didn't discuss it in depth. Why didn't you tell me?"
He rubbed his temples with one hand as he faced her again. "I don't care to celebrate my birthdays," he admitted to her. "I can't remember the last time I acknowledged it in any capacity, unless you count a forced cup of tea with Albus. Even he knew not to say the words aloud."
"'Happy Birthday?'" she guessed, and he grimaced.
"Those would be the words," he mumbled, draining his tea.
She was silent for a moment, mulling over his admission. He had thought they moved past the day without her knowing, without any sort of fuss to be had- but no, once again Minerva's meddling ways proved to be too strong for her to ignore. "I apologize if I've disappointed you," he told her, and she merely shrugged.
"It isn't like there's much we could have done to celebrate," she said, gesturing around them. "This house isn't exactly fit for parties or games. And I'm still recovering financially from your last gift," she added with a smirk.
"I have yet to truly forgive you for that."
Hermione scooped the last of her porridge into her mouth and stood. She grabbed his bowl and moved to the sink, saying, "So no party, and no gifts. I'd still like to think of some other way to celebrate."
As the first thing that popped into Severus' head was most likely not what she had had in mind, he remained silent.
"What about some good old fashioned academic debating?" She suggested, turning back towards him, and the smile she gave him was nothing but innocent.
He tilted his head towards her. "I would very much enjoy that."
Her smile grew as she collected their teacups. "Great! Then it's a date."
Before she walked away, she bent down to kiss his cheek. He turned his head abruptly and caught her lips instead. The gasp of surprise caused his mouth to tilt in a slight grin as she slowly stood up straight. He propped his elbow on the table, and lazily supported his head on his hand as he looked up at her face, warmed with a gentle flush across her cheeks. "What was that for?" she asked, and he chuckled.
"That," he said, standing, "was for breakfast. This-" he reached out for her, cupped her face in his hands- "Well, this is for me."
The kiss was firm yet gentle, and he soaked it in, before pulling away with a pleased hum. Pulling her into a tight embrace, he kissed the top of her head and whispered, "I've missed you, too, Hermione."
He could feel her smiling against his shoulder as she simply replied, "Yeah, you better have."
