I decided to upload the second chapter already. I hope you enjoy it. Please, please, please give me some feedback. I am so needy for it.
Thanks for reading xxx

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WORDS AS WEAPONS - BIRDY

Hermione had used the Floo Network to get to the hotel at the edge of town. She sat down on the bed, kicking her shoes off and rubbing her face with her hands. The discovery she's made today weighed heavily on her mind and she tried to control her emotions.

Think logically.

She was certain that Septimus Prince was in fact Severus Snape. He may have magically or non-magically altered his appearance, but it was very unlikely that anybody else in this world could be so much like him. The way he acted, the disdain dripping from every single word he uttered, and the spiteful sneer on his face were all well-known trademarks.

In addition to that, Septimus Prince happened to be an extraordinary Potions master that had arrived in Arraxy ten years ago, shortly after the war had ended. The pseudonym was only half a pseudonym when one was aware of Snape's history. She could see why he had chosen Prince. Septimus wasn't quite as obvious of a choice but Hermione had a vague idea that she would follow up on tomorrow, once she was in Geneva and had internet connection again.

But first things first. She checked the time with a quick tempus charm. It wasn't very late yet. Heading towards the fireplace she threw in some Floo powder and asked for Harry's living room at Grimmauld Place.

"Hermione?" Ginny answered into the fireplace.

"Hi, Ginny. Sorry for calling in so late, but is Harry around?"

"Sure, hang on a moment."

Hermione saw Ginny leaving the room and hear her shouting for Harry.

"Hi Mione. What's up? Where are you calling from?"

"I'm in France. I came across a witch in Geneva and I've decided to stay in a wizarding town in France for the weekend. It's lovely. Listen Harry, can I ask you an odd favour?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Could you check something for me at the ministry. It might sound really weird, but I came across something funny here and it's probably just an unjustified hunch, but I thought if you could check, it might just calm my mind a bit and-"

"What is it, Mione?" Harry interrupted her, looking amused.

She sighed audibly. "Could you have a look into Professor Snape's file for me?"

"Oh."

"Yes, like I said, I am probably just being paranoid. But I would really appreciate it."

"Well, sure. But Mione?" Harry sounded a little bit uneasy.

"Hm?"

"Snape's file is archived already. I might not have access to it. I mean…. He's been dead for ten years."

"I know, I know, Harry. It's just…" She tried to sound more casual than she felt. "It would really put my mind to ease."

"Sure." He smiled at her, but Hermione could hear he was sceptical. "Is there anything in particular you wanted to know?"

"Could you, ehm… well, this might sound weird now."

"Mione…", Harry tried to push her.

"Well… could you check what they did with his body?"

"Are you telling me Snape's body is somewhere on display in France?" He tried to sound funny.

"Harry! No."

"Sorry. Yes, I will check. Consider it done." He grinned at her through the flames.

"Thanks, you're really doing me a massive favour. Will you know by Friday?"

"I will try."

"Thanks, Harry."

She fell back onto her heels and crouched in front of the fireplace, rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands.

"Oh God…" she moaned quietly.

Harry had been her best friend for seventeen years now, and she felt horrible about not telling him exactly what had happened. She would tell him eventually, but at the moment she thought it was not fair to Snape. He clearly left England to start a new life in France in anonymity and if she wanted to find out anything about him, she wasn't going to upset him by telling everyone about his whereabouts.

She turned away from the fireplace. Since when did she care about what was fair to Snape? It wasn't as if he had ever been fair to her or any of her friends. He might have had a rather rough time throughout all the years she knew him, and even before she knew him, but one could clearly see that his crude attitude still hasn't left him.

She went into the bathroom to get herself ready for bed. He hadn't said a word to her, if anything he had ignored her. Did he not recognise her? No, that wasn't possible. She was very sure that he knew exactly who she was. Did he not want to be recognised? Most likely, although Hermione couldn't help but think he could have done a better job at disguising himself. There were more effective ways to change one's appearance than letting your hair and beard grow. But on the other hand, he probably hadn't expected to meet anyone he knew in Arraxy.

Which lead to the question: why was he in Arraxy? How had he been able to leave the country unnoticed? How had he survived?

Hermione dried her face and when the memory of Snape dying on the floor of the Shrieking Shack hit her, she pressed the towel tightly against her mouth to fight against the nausea. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub she stared into nothingness.

How was she going to proceed? Snape was alive and she was happy for him. If she was absolutely honest with herself, she was even a tiny bit jealous. He lived here in France, far away from everyone who once knew him. With nobody bothering him, he had plenty of time for his own research and was apparently quite successful at it as well.

Ok, this is leading to nothing.

She could be analysing his situation for the next six hours or she could go to bed, so that she had enough energy to do something useful tomorrow.

Crawling under the duvet she made herself comfortable, but sleep wouldn't come for a long time. Her mind was in uproar, she wanted to just do something. People should know he was still alive, he deserved recognition for his efforts during the war. She was going to find him tomorrow and talk to him.

The logical part of Hermione's brain knew that this was ridiculous. He had probably run over the hills and far away after she'd left the pharmacy, and if not, he would definitely not tolerate her simply walking up to him to start a conversation. Logical Hermione also knew that, even if she brought up the courage to speak to him, he'd be butchering that courage within seconds.

But she was tired, and whichever part of her brain was responsible for thinking at this stage, it told her that at least he deserved to know that she was happy that he was alive, and that she was impressed with all the work he had done during the war, as well as here in France. With these thoughts circulating in her head she fell asleep.

The morning couldn't come quickly enough. Hermione woke up several times during the night, checking if it was time to get up yet. She was wound up, the sensation not being dissimilar to what she felt like before she'd be travelling or having an exam the next day. When she finally decided to get up around seven thirty it was still dark outside. She felt silly about being so binged up, but she couldn't help it. Armita had proposed that Hermione should come to the pharmacy around eleven. She could have a look at a selection of their rarer potion ingredients that Armita would put together for her.

She showered and by the time she was ready to leave it was just after eight. Enough time for a short trip into the muggle world before the Nancys would expect her. Grabbing her bag, she left the hotel to apparate to Geneva.

She landed in the same spot that she had left yesterday, very near the café where she had met Clemency. She decided to head there, it was nice and cosy, had free internet and the coffee was excellent. After ordering an americano and a tasty looking pastry she settled herself in a corner and got her laptop out of her beaded handbag. She started googling and her speculations around Snape's pseudonym were quickly confirmed.

Lucius Septimus Severus Augustus was a Roman emperor and founder of the Severan dynasty. Chuckling inwardly Hermione closed the browser and got her new Rare Alpine Herbs and their use in Medicinal Potions out of her bag. She planned on lending it to Penny Haywood and she wanted to give her a collection of some of those rare ingredients with it. She started reading and compiled a list.

A while later she noticed someone else coming into the café and when she raised her head to have a quick look she nearly chocked on her pastry. It was Snape.

He was wrapped in a plain, black muggle coat that was quite similar to the frock she remembered him in. She could tell he was still tall and lean, but not as gaunt and lanky as he used to be.

Merlin's beard, he looked so strange. She furrowed her brows a bit. She wasn't sure whether that beard and hairstyle did him much good or not. He had never been pleasant to look at, but now it was just weird. Not because it was more or less ugly, but she just couldn't cope with him looking so…. well, so unlike himself.

She could still hardly believe that it was Severus Snape. A part of her mind was going completely nuts, trying to connect all the pieces together. He had been dead, but now he had to be recategorized as not-dead. He was as loathsome as ever and he was still working with potions, but he lived undercover, kind of.

She was so busy with sorting out her thoughts that she noticed too late how she was staring at him and that he was staring back.

"Enjoying the view?" It was a frighteningly familiar drawl.

Hermione opened her mouth as he walked towards her table but didn't know what to say.

"Stop gaping like a fish, it doesn't become you."

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, the lack of teaching robes did not lessen the effect that this movement had on her.

"It is really you, isn't it?", she breathed.

He raised one of his eyebrows in response.

"Professor Snape", she added unnecessarily, immediately wanting to slap herself in the face. Unfortunately, he proceeded to do exactly that for her, metaphorically.

"Unless I am having a nightmare", he scowled, "-and believe me, seeing you makes me wonder if I do - I am not your professor anymore."

"What would you like me to call you then? Prince?", Hermione snapped.

Snape simply ignored her and nodded towards the book and the list on the table.

"What do you think of it?"

Hermione sighed. At least that question didn't sound malicious.

"I am neither an expert in herbology nor in potions, but based on what I have read so far it is very informative."

She tried to sound casual, hiding how completely at odds she felt having a conversation with him.

"It is in three volumes. The second volume is on poisons and antidotes and the third volume is on specific magical effect potions", he explained very Snape-like.

Hermione examined the first few pages in search for the other titles. Her eyes widened instantly when they discovered something else.

"You wrote all of them?" Hermione, you idiot. He's a potions master. "Of course you wrote all of them."

His expression was bored and he took a step towards the table to put his cup of coffee down. Noticing the movement out of the corner of her eye, her hand instinctively twitched a tiny bit towards her wand. He cocked one eyebrow.

"Itching for a duel in a café again, Miss Granger? After all these years?"

An ice-cold shudder ran over Hermione and made her hair stand on end. Her face went completely blank, only her nostrils were slightly flared. But what tipped her over the edge, was his smug expression at her reaction. She could tell he was pleased that he had hit a sensitive nerve.

"That was completely uncalled for." She put as much harshness into her words as possible, which was very easy in her current state. "Especially from someone in your current situation."

To her shock he smiled at that. It was more like a grimace but at least he didn't look like he was going to curse her right there and then. She on the other hand felt very much like cursing him to the moon.

"Would you like to elaborate?" His gestures and facial expression feigned ignorance.

"No."

"What a novelty. The importunate know-it-all Granger will not take the opportunity to be ever so eloquent. This might not be a nightmare after all."

"I am glad to hear that you think it possible that I could be the object of your dreams."

She did not know where this came from and felt a sudden rush of panic. However, the expression on Snape's face was priceless. He looked utterly taken aback.

Her response to his silence was the same faked ignorance that he had mockingly portrayed just a few moments earlier. Yes, this was good. She wasn't going to take any of his jibes.

To her surprise he pulled out a chair and sat down opposite of her, leaning back and crossing his arms in front of his chest. They stared at one another for a good few minutes. He clearly tried to glare her into capitulation, but she wasn't going to back off. This was ridiculous and she knew that he knew it was, too.

When he finally spoke his demeanour was as icy as always.

"What are you doing here?"

"Nothing." For God's sake, why is it that today of all days you do not think before you speak, Hermione? "I didn't plan on coming here. Not to Arraxy anyway. I was in Geneva for work."

He considered her for a moment and seemingly accepted her answer as truthful.

"What is work?", he continued enquiring, not portraying anything on his face.

The question was fair enough, Hermione thought. He had presumably been hiding here for ten years and had now been discovered. He wanted to know what she was doing here.

"I was invited to give a guest lecture at the university."

"I have worked that much out myself."

His tone was spiteful. She glared at him.

"Why are you asking then?"

"Whilst it is known to happen, it is not usual for a witch or wizard to desire to a career in the muggle world, and the last time I met you…" He paused there for a moment, the memory evoking a distasteful scowl on his face. "… The last time I met you, you were still a witch."

His eyes were piercing her ruthlessly.

Bending her head, she rubbed both her eyes with the palms of her hands, stalling for time but mainly because she realised he was trying to invade her mind. She tried to imagine what she would feel like in his position. He was worried she would call him out, and he tried to cover it up with spite. He was bold enough to use Legilimens on her, and whilst normally, she would have torn him off a strip, she could understand his motives in this situation.

She wasn't going to tell him the real reason for her choice of career, but she also didn't want to lie to him. He would realise that very quickly anyway and she didn't dare imagine what would happen if he snapped.

Thinking quickly, she resolved to be civil with him, even though he wasn't. Lifting her head she stared him right in the eye, hoping to convey that she was being honest and that there was no need to butcher through her mind.

"I have a mastery in Charms but I decided I would like to study in the muggle world too, as it is where I am from. I have been awarded a doctorate from Oxford two years ago. My muggle research field is cultural anthropology, specifically identity and nationalism. Many muggle subjects are quite relevant and also applicable to the wizarding world, and I find my muggle research lets me understand and relate to the events of the wizarding world in a different way."

He studied her for a few moments. Feeling like she needed to explain herself further, she started talking again.

"I met Clemency Nancy after the guest lecture I held. Here in this café actually. It was a mere coincidence, I hadn't planned to turn this into a magical trip."

"Do you see a connection between anthropology and Charms as a subject?"

She was surprised at his question and a little bit suspicious. Why did he ask her about her work? But on the other hand, people were rarely interested in her studies. She smiled and started bobbing in her seat.

"Not very clearly as of yet. It is my current research project. It is undeniable that the use of magic has a vast influence on human behaviour and the existence of wizarding communities is a living document of it. Another point is that wizards experience inclusion by segregation from Muggles."

Snape watched her but she didn't notice. She was too caught up in her explanation.

"The problem I have with determining the specific role charm work has in this scenario, is that I can only do theoretical work. It is impossible to make a group execute their magic in every way but charm work on a long term basis. Witches and wizards that give up magic completely put themselves at a high emotional risk. But trying to refrain from doing only one type of magic could possibly result in extremely dangerous outbursts of magic in the other fields."

She sighed heavily, realising that she came to that dead point again that she always encountered when working on this topic. She noticed that he watched her and felt a bit silly for talking too much.

"I am sorry. I am very invested in my work."

She rolled her shoulders. How did this happen? Why was she discussing her work with Snape?

"An unbreakable, oafish Gryffindor habit." He shook his head.

"Excuse me? Are you trying to say -" She was about to take proper offence when he cut her off.

"Unnecessary apologies, Miss Granger. Typically Gryffindor. Only shallow-brained people are sorry for their interests. Don't be. I can appreciate that it is a rather interesting and difficult theory that you are working on."

Hermione looked at him warily. The Professor Snape she knew would have never said anything like this. It was very near to a compliment, if one considered Snape's standards.

"Personally, I think you have the answer already", he added.

She tilted her head slightly, implying she wanted him to explain.

"Think, Miss Granger. But not now."

He sat up a bit straighter in his chair, and Hermione was baffled. How did he make her talk so much about her.

Well, he didn't, she thought. He asked you a simple question and you started spouting like an overly full teapot, just waiting to be tipped.

He pointed his finger at the book again.

"What did you get that for? Whilst it wouldn't surprise me, I don't believe you study potions in addition to everything else." The corner of his mouth twitched familiarly. "You never had a true talent for it." The smug sneer on his face from earlier was back.

Trying to ignore this snide remark but being hardly able to, she sat up straighter as well.

"One doesn't need to have a true talent for something to be interested in it", she answered coolly. Before he could say anything else she decided it was her turn for questions.

"Why are you here?"

"That is none of your business." He leaned back and crossed his arms again.

"I believe it is", she retorted, actively leaning further forward, challenging him.

He abruptly moved towards her, mirroring her position.

"What would you like to hear?", he snarled. "Or rather, what would your little friends like to hear?"

"I have not told any of them", she answered with a pained expression in her eyes.

"Not yet", he returned.

"Believe it or not, but you are not everybody's object of interest", she snapped.

He turned up his nose in disgust.

"You are, for some unfortunate reason, incapable of letting me live my life in piece. I am clearly an object of your obnoxious ardour of discovery." His voice was a dangerous growl now.

"You were the one sitting down here with me!", she argued with a slightly raised voice. The tension between them increased drastically, and both of them sent forth little sparks of angry magic.

"Because you couldn't restrain yourself from staring holes in my back!"

It was rather unfortunate that they were in a public muggle café, or perhaps it was a good thing, as it stopped their discussion form becoming to heated.

"This is ridiculous."

She stared at him and shook her head. A moment later she got up and took her things. Heading towards the door to leave, she paused. She turned around and saw him looking at her haughtily.

"I am not going to tell anybody."

His expression didn't change and she left the café.

When she apparated to Arraxy she had calmed down considerably. She wasn't going to let this get the better of her and maybe Snape wasn't as opposed to seeing her as he pretended to be. Yes, he had been remarkably loathsome this morning, but a feeling in her gut told her that he simply had not expected to see any familiar faces and didn't know how to deal with it. It was not an excuse to be as cruel as he was, but she knew that behaviour of him and tried to ignore it. She was probably just imagining it anyway, he seemed positively negative about their encounter.

Walking down the main street to the pharmacy she was in deep thought about how to proceed. She couldn't just let this go. He did so much for everyone during the war. She felt bad for him. She didn't pity him, but she felt upset on his behalf. He had been used and when he was considered dead nobody wasted much thought over him anymore. Harry, Ron and herself included. They hadn't even thought about his body anymore.

She suddenly felt deeply ashamed. They watched him die and left. Yes, it was a battle, but they also never came back for his body. It was no wonder he was lashing out at her.

She entered the pharmacy and was immediately drawn into a conversation with Armita.

"Come on, in here!"

She led Hermione into the room behind the counter. It was very large and divided into different areas by work benches.

"You remember Septimus?"

Armita nodded towards Snape who was reading through some notes in one of the many corners of the room.

"Yes", she replied. "I do."

She was surprised to see him. She hadn't expected him to be here, as she had just left him an hour earlier in Geneva. She smiled quickly at him but looked away before she could see his short nod. He furrowed his brows and turned away.

"Hi, Hermione!", she heard a familiar voice.

Clemency was brewing something that let off yellow fumes. Snape stalked over to her and made a harsh comment, silencing her immediately. Hermione was reminded of her school days and felt sorry for Clemency.

Armita noticed the short exchange and whispered: "Never mind his mood. Merlin knows what's tied a knot in his wand this morning."

Hermione tried to smile at her but wasn't very successful. She knew exactly what or rather who had tied a knot in his wand.

"Now, dear."

Armina rubbed her hands and walked towards a large shelf that looked like it might fall over any moment. She pulled out several boxes and baskets and placed them on the table. They worked through Hermione's list and she ended up buying about half the ingredients she had written down. Even though Armita insisted on giving her a discount, they were still rather expensive. But Hermione got along well with Penny and thought it was worth it.

"When are you leaving again?", Armita inquired.

"I've got a job interview tomorrow, so I was going to leave soon."

"What's the job?" Armita was wrapping up Hermione's things.

"It's a teaching position. Charms."

"How nice, I wish you good luck! I tell you what…" Armita opened a drawer and got out a small bit of parchment and a quill. "Write down your address so we can stay in touch." Hermione wrote down her London address and they left the room shortly afterwards. She threw a quick glance back over her shoulder at Snape. He seemed completely preoccupied with some papers on his worktop, absently turning his wand with his fingers. She wondered if he had followed their conversation.

Of course, he has. He was a spy.

She bid Clemency and Armita farewell, after they had agreed that she would come for a week during summer break and visit them. She left the shop and turned around to look at it for a minute.

This was where Severus Snape lived a peaceful life. No megalomaniacs playing ping pong with him, no dim-witted gossip sheets writing about him, nobody throwing him suspicious glances, and no war. He deserved it, more than anything else.

She wouldn't tell anybody about him, and she decided that she wasn't in a position to force him to speak to her or anyone. She never told him that she was happy he was alive or that she was impressed with all that he'd done and is still doing in France. She sighed. Turning on the spot, she disapparated with a quiet pop.