A/N: This was my first fest piece and I had so much fun with it! Thanks to the everyone at Fluff Fest for organizing it.
Thank you to my wonderful betas, aureliandreams and asphodelandabsinthe, who both always push me to be a better writer. And thank you to my lovely friend TheFrenchPress for helping alpha when I got stuck. ️
"Absolutely not."
"Severus—"
"No, witch, you cannot say anything that will make me want to give up the only free time I have all year to traipse about the country completing tasks from a list which serves no conceivable purpose."
Hermione flopped back against the couch in his office, Muggle jeans visible under her teaching robes in anticipation of the summer holiday. "Severus, it pains me that you don't understand how to do things for fun."
He raised an eyebrow. "I know how to have fun. I went on that date with Rosemerta three months ago. That ended pleasantly enough."
Hermione glowered at him. "That does not count."
"On the contrary, my dear," he said, one of the many pet names they dabbled in for fun on occasions where they bickered like an old married couple rather than the two friends they'd become during her five year tenure teaching. "If you think it doesn't count, you've been doing it wrong."
Hermione shot sparks towards his ear from the tip of her wand, just close enough to graze, but not cause pain.
He ducked ungracefully. "You'll pay for that."
"Listen," she said, sitting up straight with her palms flat to either side of her on the couch. "Ron and I are finally finished. This was the end this time—for good—and as my friend it is your job to help cheer me up."
"I was unfortunately not informed that such a responsibility came with the change in title when I began." She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up his hand. "However, if it is really that important to you and will spare me years of listening to you wonder why you weren't good enough for Weasley—which is a preposterous thought to begin with—then I shall agree to this 'bin list' experience."
"Bucket list."
"Is a bin not simply a large bucket?" he asked. "A preferable place for such a list, as well, but here we are I suppose."
Her lips twitched, curving up. "Thank you, Severus."
"Now please leave me to the last of my marking for the year. It has suddenly become fun in its predictability compared to what lies before me."
Hermione laughed heartily. "You git." Standing, she placed her hand on his arm, "Don't forget to eat. The feast is in two hours."
"Hmm," he grumbled.
She patted his arm and left the office.
Snape heaved out a sigh through his nose. She was so free with her actions, touching him in little ways all the time. He wasn't sure when it had begun, but somehow his need for affection— borne from a lifetime of being deprived of any such connections—had clouded the part of his brain that normally put his sense of self preservation above all else. In the last year alone he had agreed to Muggle excursions, partaken in drunken nights at the pub, and had even once offered to take over her morning patrol when her hangover had her bribing the house elves for fish and chips at four in the morning.
Gryffindors would be the death of him.
Hermione showed up at his doorstep at Spinner's End two weeks later, with a rucksack over her shoulder and her cat cradled in her left arm.
Severus' eyebrows raised as high as they could go. The silence between them dragged on.
He finally broke it.
"No."
"What?"
"The cat cannot come." His tone was clear, emphatic; it brokered no argument.
Hermione shifted Crookshanks closer to her body, her eyebrows drawing together as she pouted. "He's family. I can't leave him behind all summer."
"And he will be able to join us for everything on your Death List?"
"It is more of a Before-You-Die List, actually," Hermione said, but she was clearly troubled by his words. "You're right. He wouldn't be able to join us for all of it. But he's half Kneazle and he's brilliant, so...I think he should come along anyway and we'll figure it out."
Sighing dramatically, Snape turned to walk back into his house, leaving the door open for Hermione behind him. She followed him inside, placing Crookshanks on the ground. The feline immediately marched to the corner of the room, chin high in the air with a regal quality, and claimed a place to sleep.
Hermione found Severus in the kitchen, preparing toast. Making herself at home in his kitchen, she prodded him. "Did you finish your list?"
"Yes, in that I never intended to start one." He poured cereal into a bowl for her. Though he was a half-blood himself, her morning muggle habits horrified him. Why she would want this mash of damp, dehydrated corn and soy milk instead of a hearty muffin or even a full English, he had no idea.
She took the bowl gratefully and sat at his table, spooning it into her mouth. "Why not?" she asked indignantly, her mouth full.
He sat with his eggs and toast, levitating a teacup alongside him. "Do not speak while chewing, Miss Granger. It is unbecoming."
"Well, since I'm not trying to 'be coming' on you, I think you'll manage," she said with a self-congratulating smile, taking a slice of toast off his plate and biting into it.
"Do you remember when you would actually fear me taking house points for a joke as crass as that?"
"Yes," she snorted, "how boring. This is far more entertaining. Plus you never made me breakfast then."
He had no retort—she often bested him in their sparring, and though he would never admit it, she was the only one who could,— so he cut into his eggs and dipped his remaining toast into the yolk. "Where to first?"
She pulled out a folded list from her pocket and smoothed it in her hands dramatically. "Well, she said, since you won't write your own, I suppose my list is now our list. Though you really should add something to it, Severus."
He reached across the table for it, but she pulled it back.
"No, there are a few things I'd like to keep as surprises on here."
"When have you ever known me to enjoy surprises?"
She shrugged. "You'll live. Now, there are several categories. Some are places to visit, some are luxuries to indulge in, and some are experiential."
He raised an eyebrow at her as he cut another bite of eggs and placed it in his mouth. "This is going to take the entire summer, isn't it?"
"Probably," she confirmed. "Especially because several of these include muggle means of travel."
His eyes widened; he looked affronted. "Why?"
"It's part of the experience."
"Being packed like sardines in loud, unsanitary spaces does not sound like a life experience that one needs to have."
"And yet you shall have it."
"Tiresome woman."
"Yes, yes it's why you love me," she said with a smug grin, spooning another mouthful of increasingly soggy cereal as she read her list over.
Severus' hands never faltered as he switched to coffee, settling in for the long haul.
—-
Severus cast another warming charm as the boat continued the second day of its journey southward.
There was nothing in sight but blue ocean, and the cold air nipped his face even through the charm.
She had been right. Something about this form of travel was serene. The waves lulled him, calming his thoughts.
"Whatcha thinking?"
Well so much for that.
He turned to see Hermione approaching, pulling her coat tighter around her. Her hair stuck out wildly under the winter hat she'd donned. She held out one to him as well.
He took it and held it, arms crossed for warmth, "I was considering the lunacy behind leaving the long awaited summer heat to come on a boat sailing for the coldest point on earth."
"I'm not sure it is actually, I'd have to do some research." She pointed at the hat and then his head; he raised an eyebrow, but pulled it on. "I can tell when you're enjoying something, by the way, so don't pretend you aren't relaxed out here."
"And yet you pester me with questions."
"It's part of my charm." She smiled and leaned against the railing.
They stood in companionable silence for several minutes.
"I've always wanted to be able to say I've been to all seven continents," she began. "I planned to backpack around the world after the war, actually. I thought it would be a nice change of pace. But then there was eighth year, and then the apprenticeship, and then the teaching offer. It just never happened."
"It has its appeal," he said, nodding out to the waters around them as the boat approached land, "being so far removed from one's usual environment."
She tilted her head to the side and looked up at him. "I'm glad you think so."
"Ladies and gentlemen," a voice came through the speaker system. "We will be arriving in Antarctica momentarily. Please do not stand too close to the rails as we dock."
"Come on, Miss Granger, we can't have you becoming breakfast for the seals." He turned, walking back towards the middle of the ship. "The wizarding world would think I did it on purpose."
She opened her mouth to protest, but then thought better of it. "True." And she followed him.
—-
They spent the day touring the ice slabs, seeing the scientific site established there, and chasing penguins. Severus found it rather odd to be on the receiving end of instruction and wished more than once to tell the guide his style could be improved with less foolish hand waving and a stern voice. But every time he looked at Hermione and found her eyes lit up with wonder, his temperament softened.
After a full day, the guides led them to their camp for the night. Each person was given a sleeping bag and protective gear to sleep on the continent without freezing that night.
"Why are we sleeping on a slab of ice instead of in the boat?" Severus asked her as they rolled out their sleeping bags.
Hermione shrugged. "For the experience."
He harrumphed, but said no more.
Hermione surreptitiously added warming charms to each of their bags and they climbed in.
"If I am an ice pop in the morning, please don't let them replace me with Longbottom."
Hermione laughed. "Neville would die before he'd agree to teach potions. He's far better suited to Herbology. I wish I could convince him to come back to the castle, but I think he's still frightened of you."
Severus laid on his back with his arms beneath his head, staring up at the night sky. "All for the best, I suppose."
Chuckling, Hermione burrowed deeper into the warmth of her bag. "You're incorrigible."
"It's part of my charm," he echoed. "Now go to sleep, dear."
"Yes, professor," she said with a wry smile and rolled over in her sleeping bag.
He grinned, staring up at the constellations above them, and fell asleep in minutes.
—-
Severus woke the next morning smothered by hair that was not his own. Spluttering, he opened his eyes to find that Hermione had managed to traverse the space between them and curl into his side, all the while remaining tucked into her sleeping bag.
Pushing her hair from his face, he hissed, "Witch, explain yourself."
"It's cold," Hermione whined, her voice a low grumble.
"You did want to come to the coldest place on earth."
She groaned, burying herself closer into his side.
"I am not your cat, Miss Granger," he huffed.
"Poor Crookshanks, shouldn't have left him home."
"He would be a frozen fossil had we not."
Severus sent a warming charm through her bag and she immediately sighed in relief, relaxing back into her own space.
"Thank you."
He hummed a wordless acknowledgement before stretching and standing, joints popping and stiff muscles aching. They had many adventures still ahead of them; it would not do for his age to catch up with him now.
"So," he intoned, "what's next?"
"Something from your list."
For the twentieth time: "I don't have a list, Hermione."
"There must be something you'd like to do before you die," she needled, and he leveled her with a glare that would've had her crying over her cauldron when she was a student.
"This is a futile topic."
"Fine," she acquiesced, "but we will do something of yours before this summer is over."
"As for now, I have a guide to Confund before we apparate."
Hermione smiled at him, standing and stretching from her own cramped position. Holding her arm out, she agreed merrily, "Lead the way."
—-
Severus and Hermione spent weeks of the summer alternating between relaxation and adventure. They peppered bigger ticket items with a week at a time in cities all over the world. A stay in Paris followed Antarctica, where they tried new foods, visited the Louvre, and ate a luxurious dinner together on the Seine. Hermione had been quite content with the idea of staying in hostels, but Severus had refused, insisting on paying for hotels.
They walked the cobblestone streets, charming their shoes so as not to get caught—a lesson Severus learned on their first day, when he'd had to save her from face-planting and inevitably chipping a tooth on the stones below. Rolling his eyes as she continued to look up at the buildings and people instead of watching where she was going, he sent the spell wordlessly at her shoes. She smiled warmly at him in return.
While Hermione talked to the locals, attempting to use a guidebook instead of a translator spell, he wandered into a nearby shop. He found a small, discreet Muggle camera with 36 pre-loaded shots available. After purchasing it, he turned to where Hermione was speaking to a small, old French man and snapped a photo of her, immortalizing her wild hair and big eyes.
After their excursions ziplining through the Ecuadorian forests, horseback riding in Montana—he'd taken pleasure in surprising her with his skill at that activity,—and skiing down the Alps, they settled in Barcelona for a bit. Hermione was in awe of the architecture, particularly the churches. Growing up in a religious Muggle family, she felt some connection to them. Severus only admired them for their beauty.
Between respites, they checked off items on Hermione's list and bantered about what should count. Severus didn't think "eat a churro" really held the same weight as "visit the terracotta soldiers." Hermione disagreed.
Unsurprisingly, a lot of the places on Hermione's list held magical roots, though muggles would never have realized it. The Terracotta Army for one. The Sagrada Familia. The Library of Alexandria.
On this one, Severus had opinions. Loudly.
"See the Library of Alexandria? Granger, are you mad? You do know that, if it even exists, it is buried beneath the sand, right?"
"It does exist, Severus, there are wizarding texts that discuss how to gain entry."
"Those tomes are 500 years old."
She ruffled. "It could still be there."
He snorted.
"Oh come now, don't pretend you don't want to see it too. You love books just as much as I do."
He paused, biting his cheek. "Not enough to die for them."
"Bucket list, Severus," Hermione said, pointing her quill at him over the paper with their scratched out tasks. "It's supposed to be adventurous. Exciting."
"You and I are the only people we know who would even consider finding a library exciting. I will agree to go for one day. I will not die in a desert for a damn building that decided to bury itself under the sand."
In the end they did not find the library, though Hermione still insisted upon its existence. Severus wondered if the descriptions of how to gain access were more metaphors for how to access knowledge. It would take two whole days eating gelato in Italy before Hermione was back in good spirits and ready for the next item.
The wind blew through his hair and snapped his cloak backwards. It was far too breezy a day for this, he thought, but she had insisted it was a necessary life experience.
As they approached the field of hot air balloons, her pallor went sickly green.
He wasn't terribly pleased at the prospect either.
"Remind me why we are here if you have a deathly fear of flying, Miss Granger?"
She swallowed thickly. "I don't want to be limited by my fears. It's perfectly safe."
"It looks perfectly idiotic. There's no broom."
"People have been flying in hot air balloons for centuries, Severus," she rebutted, her words much more confident than her wavering voice.
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Have they?"
"Well, probably. But regardless, I don't want to avoid life experiences just because I'm afraid I might get hurt."
"Some fear is healthy."
"We'll be fine," she stated firmly, Gryffindor bravado taking over.
They approached the line of assistants helping couples to their balloons and explaining the process to fly them.
Severus stood with his arms crossed. Hermione bit her nails.
"Are you sure you want to go in the death basket?" he asked her.
"Yes." But she sounded less sure. "We have to. It's on the list."
"Is the point of a bucket list to die at the end?"
"Sort of, but no. And you won't die."
"If you make me wait in this line and try to back out at the last minute, I shall be very cross with you."
"I'll be fine."
Severus thought the nails on her right hand may have begged to differ.
They waited another 45 minutes, Severus growing more and more impatient and Hermione bouncing out of her skin with nerves. The more he watched the other people around them the more he realized this was an activity for fools to propose mid-air. "Imbeciles," he said under his breath. Hermione hadn't heard him anyway; she was too far gone in her own anxiety. He had a sinking feeling she wasn't going to get into the basket.
When it was finally their turn, Severus stepped into the basket as the man explained how to work the strings to increase and decrease the height of the balloon. Hermione stood just outside the door to the box.
"Come in, Miss Granger."
She was hyperventilating. "I can't, I can't, I—" and started to run—physically run—from the field.
"Hermione!" He chased after her, even angrier that she was making him run through the field of multicolored balloons like a fool, and rounded in front of her, throwing his arms out so she wouldn't be tempted to get past him. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"
"I can't do it! It's too high and there's no way to get down and—"
"This was your idea!" he waved his arms, exasperation bleeding into his voice. "You're the one who wants to risk it all to fly."
"I know!" she shouted before sinking into a low squat on the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees and burying her face. "It's not the flying!"
He ran his hand down his face and counted to five, slowing his breathing. It wouldn't do to exacerbate the situation with his own frustrations.
Kneeling next to her in the muddy field, he addressed her softly, "Hermione. I am right here. You're perfectly safe on the ground. Will you please tell me what happened?"
She looked up, surprised at his gentle tone, and swallowed. "I get scared of being places I can't leave. It feels like the walls are closing in."
"Well luckily there are no walls when you're floating in mid-air."
She grinned and slapped his arm.
"I'll allow that because you're upset, but need I remind you that I can fly without a broom. If you truly needed to get down to the ground, I would of course safely bring us back to the earth."
She gasped, her hand to her mouth. "I'd forgotten actually." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "We'd have to obliviate all the Muggles, though."
"A task I am sure we would be up to, if the situation called for it. Now, are you ready to give this horrific invention a try?" He held out his hand to her and she smiled, taking it.
"Okay."
He lifted them from the ground and walked them back to their balloon, Hermoine clutching the elbow of his cloak the entire time.
Severus watched her take several deep breaths as she boarded the basket and, for some reason, pride welled up in his chest.
Moments later they were airborne. "Breathe, Miss Granger," he reminded her. But it was unnecessary. Her eyes had gone wide as saucers as she took in the sight of the world below and sky around them. The other hot air balloons dotted the sky with color, and he surreptitiously took a photo while she admired the view.
"This is amazing." Her hair was being pulled from its braid by the force of the wind and the curls framed her face very prettily. Not for the first time, he wondered why her idiot of an ex-boyfriend had seen fit to let her go. She was an incredible friend, the best he'd ever had in his adult life, and he imagined she brought that same energy to a partnership. He felt lucky that she spent any of it on him, that she seemed to value their companionship as much as he did.
She turned and smiled at him over her shoulder, curls circling her face. "Thank you. This is wonderful."
He inclined his head in a nod and they watched each other for a moment in silence.
A squeal caught their attention. To the left, a woman in another basket had her hand to her mouth as the man seemed to slide something onto her finger. A ring, of course. The couple kissed.
Hermione's cheeks flushed and she laughed, a small, uncomfortable sound. She smiled back at Severus for a moment before looking out over the land again, but the easy casualness of it had gone. He found himself wondering why such a display had thrown her off. Was she uncomfortable witnessing something so intimate? Had she wanted that with the Weasley boy?
"Thank you, Severus," she said, turning back to him, "for today, and for this summer."
He inclined his head again, pulling on the ropes to control their descent, watching her all the while.
Walking home that night along the streets of Albuquerque, Hermione looked content. Severus basked in the hot desert air and had to admit to himself that this summer away from cold, rainy England had done his soul some good.
"Oh! Look!" Hermione skipped up to a shop and he stopped in his tracks.
"No."
"Oh come on, Severus. What's the harm?"
"I have had my fill of tattoos," he said morosely.
"Okay, Mr. Macabre, no one said you had to get a tattoo. You could get a—"
"I am not sticking a piece of metal anywhere onto or into my person."
"Only you could make a piercing sound so odd," she mused, as she pushed open the front door to the tattoo and piercing parlor.
Severus sighed and followed her in, finding her already engaged in conversation with the employee. The man asked her to wait in the chairs at the front while he prepared a room.
She sat in a seat with her hands under her legs, swinging them wildly.
"For a Hogwarts professor, you look an awful lot like a child in Honeydukes, right now," he remarked, sitting in a chair nearby.
"I've always wanted a nose ring, but mum wouldn't let me get one. Said it would decrease the chances that a respectable boy would want to marry me." Hermione rolled her eyes.
Severus adjusted in his seat. He couldn't admit to Hermione that the thought of her with a nose ring was actually quite alluring. He was sure she would carry it off well.
"Can I convince you to get anything?" she said. "Perhaps an eyebrow piercing? An industrial? A Prince Albert?"
"Miss Granger!" he sputtered, thoroughly turning red. She laughed a deep belly laugh, a laugh so hard it was breathless and contorted her features.
"Oh my gods, your face," she cried, wiping her eyes, sighing as she calmed. "This entire trip would have been worth it just for that look."
He tightened his arms across his chest, unused to being so caught off guard. "Yes, well, I'm going to have to speak to Minerva when we get back. We need to revisit the idea of being able to take house points from professors, I believe. At least while you're stalking the castle."
She snorted again, and he could tell she was trying not to devolve into laughter when the man with more piercings and face tattoos than Severus could count came to get her.
"Wish me luck!"
"As if you have ever needed it," he replied. He watched her disappear into a back room and breathed out.
It only took about five minutes before Hermione reemerged with a brand new nose ring, doing a little twirl as she showed it to him.
"What do you think?"
"It suits you very nicely, Miss Granger. Now if you don't mind, we should retire. This has been an exceptionally long day and I do not think I could survive any more surprises from you."
She laughed, quickly paying the artist before tucking her hand into the crook of his arm and leading Snape outside to apparate back to their hotel.
Much to his distress, it appeared there was one more surprise waiting for them inside.
"What do you mean there is only one room, Madam?" he asked the hotel clerk, glaring at her.
"Oh, no, there are two rooms, sir, but only one of them has a bed."
"That is absurd."
"Yes, well, we've been renovating and we didn't quite expect so many guests tonight, but with the hot air balloon festival in town, we had more than we'd figured."
"One would assume you may have predicted the dilemma," he snarked.
"Severus," Hermione chided.
Closing his eyes, he regrouped before looking at the clerk. "Fine. We shall take your one room. Are there at least two beds in that room?"
The woman grimaced, clearly not keen to answer the intimidating man before her.
"It's fine, we'll take it," Hermione added hastily. "We can just transfigure something," she whispered to Severus.
As it turned out, there was really nothing they could transfigure that would fit in the tiny space with the already smallish sized bed.
"Oh well, we'll just have to share." Hermione leapt onto the left side of the bed and peeled back the covers on the right. "In you go, dearest," she teased.
Severus stared for all of two seconds before turning and promptly making his way into the bathroom for some privacy.
"Oh come on, snookums! It's just for the night!"
Shutting the door behind him, he stared into the mirror, eyes roving over his aged features. He couldn't understand why the prospect of sharing a bed with Hermione was unnerving him. She had stayed at his home before, slept on his couch, even fallen asleep in his office while marking papers. What was the difference?
And yet, he felt too vulnerable. Too seen. It was dangerous to get too close, and he was already close enough.
"It's just sleep, man, get a hold of yourself," he told himself. He completed his ablutions and returned to the bedroom, where Hermione had already changed into tartan pajamas, the shorts revealing much more of her leg than he had ever previously seen.
"Oh good, loo's free," she said, hopping up and darting past him.
He quickly changed into his own night clothes, wearing a black shirt and soft trousers, and made his side of the bed, straightening the blankets before sitting with his back against the wall.
When she returned she cocked her head to the side and looked at him quizzically. "What are you doing?"
"I thought it might be best if I were to sleep above the duvet so that we may maintain our privacy."
Hermione rolled her eyes, getting in under the covers on her side. "Get into bed, Severus."
"Bossy witch, aren't you?"
"A know-it-all for the ages," she said, yawning.
He stood and slowly peeled back the covers, making sure to stay as close to the edge of the bed as possible.
She reached out her hand across the space to squeeze his once before letting go. "Goodnight, Severus."
His throat went dry. "Goodnight, Miss Granger."
He had to wait until her breaths evened and the signs of sleep were clear before he could relax and try to get some rest himself. Why does this feel so much harder after spending a summer together? Shouldn't it get easier? Will I ever be bloody normal around her?
He had the same niggling feeling he got when he suspected one of his students was up to something. But this time, he felt it about himself. There was something brewing that he had not sanctioned but had somehow encouraged, and he needed to squash it before he ruined his friendship with his favorite colleague.
Eventually his weariness won out and sleep took him.
Severus woke up too hot. Far too hot. He stretched and immediately stopped, feeling something move on top of him — someone.
She was lying on top of him. She was lying on top of him. He started to panic. How would he extricate himself without waking her? How would he—oh gods, her leg was right over his groin pressing on his bladder, but that was hardly the biggest concern. Could she feel him? She undoubtedly would if she woke up. It was highly inappropriate, he needed to calm down. Mentally willing his penis to deflate, he laid perfectly still, hoping she would roll over on her own before dawn.
It took another half hour before she moved at all, thankfully removing her leg from over top him, but curling closer into his chest.
"Mmm," he heard her mumble softly, a noise of calm.
"Miss Granger," he whispered. She didn't wake. He wasn't sure if he wanted her to or not. "Miss Granger." Nothing.
He sighed. It would not do for her to wake and realize he had allowed her to lie on top of him for so long without trying to move her. He reached his free arm across to gently rock her shoulder.
"Hermione."
She groaned, waking, and looked up, blinking at him. It clicked in an instant.
She pulled back—he shouldn't feel surprised—and looked at him.
"Oh Severus, I'm sorry. I—I guess I get kind of cuddly in my sleep. I didn't mean to grope you."
"I assure you Miss Granger, you did not grope me."
She blushed. "Okay. Well, sorry. It won't happen again."
She stood and hopped out of bed to head to the loo, leaving Severus to his thoughts and his rapid heart rate. No, he felt sure it wouldn't happen again.
And for reasons he couldn't yet explain to himself, that thought made his chest ache.
Hermione felt that after their busy day they needed somewhere to relax, so she apparated them to a beach—from the list—in the Maldives. Using the women's changing rooms to covertly conjure some beach chairs and other accoutrement, she settled down in a comfortable spot on the white sands while Severus purchased drinks and fruit from the resort nearby.
They settled down to their day of relaxation and Severus didn't even mind that, for once, he hadn't a book to read or a problem to solve; he didn't even need to occlude to relax, which was a wholly unfamiliar sensation. The sound of the waves and the sun warming his pallid skin were like a balm.
He glanced at Hermione. Her hair was loosely tied in a bun at the top of her head, curls poking out. Sunglasses adorned her sun-freckled nose, and her revealing green bikini clung to her skin.
Severus' ensuing blush had nothing to do with the sun. He had felt more and more aware of her since finding her on top of him in the early morning, and it was almost overwhelming to be allowed to see so much of her body. He felt it rude to stare, but she was gorgeous to behold.
She caught him staring and he quickly turned away.
"See something you like?" she teased.
"Were you aware that, traditionally, pureblood witches were not allowed to wear such skimpy attire to sunbathe? You'd have been dressed shoulder to thigh in a leotard to protect your modesty," he deflected, trying to keep his usual snarky tone to hide his growing anxiety.
She stretched most unhelpfully. "Well good thing I'm not a traditional pureblood then. I'd have taken the Prophet by storm."
"You do anyway, dearest."
She laughed. "Yes, I do find great pleasure in annoying Rita Skeeter."
"That she still dares to antagonize you after spending a year in a jar is beyond me."
"Even bad reporters are tenacious, I suppose. Or perhaps she enjoyed the simplicity of life as a beetle. Or maybe all the shagging Ludo has addled her brain."
"Ludo Bagman?" Snape spluttered.
"Oh yes, they're an item. Can you imagine?"
He shivered. "I'd rather not."
She hit him on the arm. "Oh, Severus." She laughed, and her hand lingered close to his for a moment too long, fingers brushing his skin long after the initial contact should have warranted.
He turned to his drink and felt the sweat collect along his forehead, unsettlingly unrelated to the heat.
Spinning out of the pull of apparition, he released her hand. Severus had been the one to transport them this time because he had actually been here once before. On Death Eater business, but he didn't need to mention that detail.
He watched Hermione's face light up in wonder at the Trevi fountain.
"Oh it's beautiful," she breathed. "I feel just like Lizzie McGuire."
"Who?" he asked, befuddled.
"Muggle heroine," she replied, eyes still glazed at the sight of the famous fountain. "My Muggleborn first years are big fans."
They maneuvered through the crowd until they reached the basin.
"Do you have a galleon?" she asked. "I only have muggle money and I want all the magic I can get for this one."
"A galleon?" he replied in shock.
"So I can make a wish."
"I understand the intention, but is it not common practice to use smaller denominations?"
"Yes, but this is a very important wish, so I am going to need all the help I can get." She held out her hand with a smile. "I'll pay you back."
He grumbled and reached into his pocket, pulling out the gold piece. "I do not need your repayment, Miss Granger. I was just surprised."
"Trust me," she said, closing her eyes and holding the galleon tight to her chest. "This is a very good wish."
He watched her pin her hopes and dreams onto the gold coin before turning around and throwing it over her head into the fountain.
"Okay, we probably have time for a gelato before we pick up the portkey to South Dakota."
She pranced through the crowd to the nearest gelateria, and he pulled another galleon out of his pocket.
Staring at the small piece of metal, he made his own wish, and watched it fall onto the dreams and wishes of many others throughout time.
After weeks of trying, Hermione had managed to convince Severus to add something of his own to their list. Which was how Greece came to be their final destination for the summer.
As they strolled down the streets of Parga—Hermione in the white and yellow sundress she had purchased in Prague, Severus in a white linen shirt and black trousers in Istanbul—he told her why.
"Lily and I had always talked about running away here. When life got hard."
Hermione held her oversized sun hat in her hands, watching him as they walked.
"I thought her home life was happy?"
"It was and it wasn't," he shrugged. "Petunia was a piece of work, and her parents never truly accepted that their daughter was a witch. I am glad that I can finally say I made it here. And the company is just as fine," he smiled at her.
They approached a bridge which overlooked the town and had a clear view all the way out to the Mediterranean. A gentle sea breeze danced over them and Severus exhaled, the weight of an unfulfilled promise finally lifting, leaving him steady and calm at last as he honored his friend.
When they reached the center of the bridge, they leaned out over the railing, facing the sea in compatible silence.
After a few minutes, Hermione asked, staring out at the water, "Are you still in love with her?"
"No," he replied decidedly, "I think it was only ever the youthful kind of love that knows little of the world. But I shall always love her as my first friend, and my remorse was genuine. I hated myself for taking her opportunity at a life away because of my own selfish need for recognition." He turned to look at her. But no, I am not in love with Lily Evans. I haven't been for quite some time."
She nodded, looking out over the Mediterranean and Severus watched the wind whip Hermione's hair. She looked up at him, squinting against the sun.
"You know," she said, "I feel a little bad that your only bucket list item was for someone else. Don't you want anything for yourself?"
"I did something for myself," he said. He pulled out the muggle camera he'd been using and the developed photos from the shop. "I have these pictures of you in almost every place we visited. And I got to spend the summer with the only close friend I've ever had who has seen my flaws, knows my past, and still could enjoy me enough to spend a summer together. That is all I could've asked for before greeting death like an old friend."
She tucked her hair behind her ear and turned to face him. He was bent down, leaning against the little railing, so her head was for once level with his.
"Well, I hope you don't plan to see him soon. I need you for one more thing."
"And what might that be?"
She took a step closer, her face maybe a foot from his.
"The last item on my bucket list."
He couldn't breathe right. She was deliberately entering his personal space, her face inches from his.
"What is it?" he whispered.
"I'd like to kiss you, Severus Snape."
And she smiled a tiny little smile that spoke of planning and waiting and anticipation.
He barely managed a nod. He wasn't even sure he was breathing.
She leaned in and pressed her lips to his. It was chaste yet passionate, neither brief nor long, and when their lips parted they shared the same blush.
She suddenly looked shy, playing with the edge of her dress.
"Even if you only see me as a friend, I wanted to do that before I die. I've wanted to do it for quite a while—"
He grabbed her face and kissed her again. Her hands corded through his silky black hair and he pulled her closer to his body before breaking the kiss.
"Miss Granger," he asked, breathless, "did you take me halfway around the world just to do something we could've done at home?"
"Are you saying you didn't have fun?"
"No, I had an immense amount of fun. But the question stands."
She looked out at the ocean. "You wouldn't have looked at me the same way at home. I thought maybe on this trip you might start to see me as me."
"You are mistaken. I have seen you for a long time now. What you have added to my life is so precious I would never dared risk it for something as fickle as desire."
"I could not imagine you to be a fickle man."
"I wasn't speaking of myself."
"I am not a fickle woman."
He took her hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles as he gazed into her warm, honey eyes and the cinnamon smell of her hair drifted over him.
"No," he said, "you are not."
Hermione pushed the door to Spinner's End open as soon as Severus dropped the wards, ignoring his protests as she levitated far too many things on her own, and headed straight to the living room. Dropping onto the couch with a dramatic sigh, she flung her legs over the arm of the furniture and threw her arms out with great flair.
Severus stared at her, amused. "Are you quite finished?"
"I have seen the skies, tasted a churro, tried to find a hidden library, made a wish—that came true by the way,—and kissed a very attractive potions master. I am indeed spent."
She closed her eyes, feigning sleep, but a smile broke over her face.
"Is it too late to leave you in Greece, you dramatic thing?" he asked, pushing her legs off the arm of the couch so she was forced to swing to one side as he sat next to her.
"Yes. You are stuck with me now."
He leaned his head back, placing one arm across the back of the couch and drawled, "I suppose I'll manage."
Crookshanks walked into the room and Hermione sat bolt upright.
"What the—how did he get back from Ginny's on his own?"
"Hermione, did your cat just come through the floo by himself?"
"Well, he is part—"
"Yes, and perhaps an animagus because kneazle or not that is something that I've never seen before."
She picked him up, curling him into her body after an entire summer away from him.
"Oh Severus, please. He is not an animagus."
She petted him on her lap before he hopped off.
Severus looked at her. "Wait. What wish came true?"
"What?" Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion as she glanced at him.
"You said your wish came true," he prompted, turning his body towards hers.
"Oh, yes. Well, I wished that you'd return my feelings," she stated almost bashfully, tucking her hair behind her ear.
He smiled softly. "I wished the same for you."
"You did?" She crawled into his lap, eyes wide. "You sly man. I didn't even see you make a wish."
He wrapped his arms around her, around his witch, his best friend, his girl. "No, you were stuffing yourself with gelato."
"It was really good gelato," she grinned.
"Better than this?" He leaned in and kissed her. A soft touch of his lips to hers, full of understanding, friendship, and, if he was right…love.
"No," she smiled, "nothing's better than this."