WARNINGS: Bad language, cringe worthy social situations

It's alright if you love me
It's alright if you don't
I'm not afraid of you running away
Honey, I get the feeling you won't

There is no sense in pretending
Your eyes give you away
Something inside you is feeling like I do
We said all there is to say

Baby breakdown
Go ahead and give it to me
Breakdown honey take me through the night
Breakdown now I'm standing here can't you see
Breakdown, it's alright

"Breakdown" - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

Mr. Snape,

Well… now that you mention it, there is something I could use your help with.

Could you spare 10 minutes for me sometime early this week?

Yours,
HERMIONE

Ms. Granger,

Consider me intrigued. Pop around any time tomorrow.

SS

P.S. For you, I can spare 30 minutes.

16 Days Left

Hermione couldn't recall the last time she had been this nervous. Was it possible that she had never felt this way before?

Certainly not at Hogwarts. Nothing had ever given her cause to doubt her academic prowess. Even exams had only left her with a sort of out-of-control anticipation, a buzzing sort of energy akin to drinking too much coffee.

Certainly not when she had been on the run with Harry and Ron. She had felt a lot of things in those days—cold, tired, hungry, terrified, but never nervous.

It was odd to think that someone could experience all of the things she had and still not have plumbed the full depth of human emotion. And if she hadn't been running late, Hermione might have taken a moment to ponder what other emotions she might yet experience in her life.

However, the clock was ticking, and she very much doubted Severus would appreciate tardiness.

She stared impatiently at herself in the mirror. Behind her was pure carnage, outfits strewn across nearly every available surface in mangled heaps. The wreckage stood out in stark contrast to her otherwise tidy flat.

What did one wear in a situation like this?

Hermione was on her fourth outfit, and it still didn't feel quite right.

She paced back to her now empty closet as if another, better option might have appeared. (It hadn't.)

Hermione knew she was being ridiculous. She huffed out a breath, checked her reflection one final time, and forced herself to call it good. After all, when one only has a capsule wardrobe to work with the options are decidedly limited.

Wearing dark jeans tucked into ankle boots with a small heel, a plain black blouse and a green military style jacket, Hermione apparated directly to Severus' front stoop. She felt his wards tingle along her skin, and she was willing to bet there was a pretty strong 'notice me not' charm on the house.

If anyone was trying to watch him, they were probably having a hell of a time doing so.

Still… it was hard to resist looking over her shoulder.

Severus had asked her to come to his home rather than meeting somewhere in public. Hermione couldn't blame him for not wanting to be seen with her. Since his reentry into society, he had done a rather remarkable job of avoiding the press.

Sure, in the beginning there had been stories about him. Rampant speculation was probably a more accurate way to put it, but he hadn't made it easy them. He hadn't spoken with anyone. He used charms that made most photos come out blurry, nearly unusable. He had done nothing of interest.

Hermione on the other hand was going around punching people. So, yeah, she got it.

However, if someone saw her going into his house it was going to be so much more scandalous than if they just happened to bump into each other at a coffee shop.

And Hermione really didn't need any more attention right now.

He opened the door rather promptly, which she appreciated.

"Ms. Granger."

Merlin, his voice was rougher and richer than she remembered. It sent a little chill down her neck despite the heat of the day. She gave him a look and quickly swept in, grateful to be out of view.

The door closed, sealing her inside with him.

For a moment, they stood in the entryway just staring at each other. She tried to read his face while keeping her own blank.

He looked… good. Being back among the living suited him. Or perhaps it was not having to try to keep a bunch of people he really didn't like alive while serving two maniacs. Either way, Severus looked very well.

His hair was still black as night with eyes to match. Really, they were deep black holes. If one fell in there would be no escape. His face looked a bit different, and she realized suddenly, that he didn't have bags under his eyes. The shadows that had been as much a fixture on his face as his nose were gone. His skin as clear, pale but bright. He was still slender but he looked a touch more filled out. He smelled the same as he had in the hotel.

Hermione realized all of this in about 3 seconds. She also realized he was watching her watch him. She flushed, turned her head, and cleared her throat.

"Uh, hi—hello, thank you for seeing me."

"Seeing you? He's not your physician!" the voice in her head snorted.

"Come in." He swept past her, beckoning for her to follow him deeper into his lair.

She trailed behind him into a sitting room of sorts. Large windows overlooked the street letting in an abundance of natural light. Overall the room seemed… nondescript. The furniture was nice but a bit stiff and plain. There wasn't decor of any kind. In fact, it said nothing about the occupant other than perhaps that he liked to sit down. It could have been a room in any home any where.

They sat sat across from each other; Severus in a ridged wingback chair and Hermione on a matching love seat. She sat forward, knees pressed together, clasping her hands in her lap to keep from twisting her fingers together nervously.

"Did you think I still lived in a dungeon?" Severus asked upon observing the way she was ogling his home.

"Of course not."

"Then what did you expect?"

"I have no idea," Hermione replied honestly.

Her stomach was one giant knot. Seriously, she felt like she'd never be able to breathe properly or eat again. They were silent for a long moment, it stretched between them like a tangible thread.

"Ms. Granger, you requested 10 minutes of my time. I offered you 30. Do you intend to spend the first 20 of them sitting in silent contemplation?"

"Oh! No, sorry, s—" She bit her lip to keep from calling him 'sir.' Funny how a stern rebuke from him could instantly send her back to her school girl days.

"I'm glad to hear it." He gestured to her as if to say 'the floor is yours.'

"Umm, well, yes, you see… sorry, it's just a bit of a delicate matter…."

"Do pull yourself together. This is utterly painful to watch," the voice in her head hissed.

Hermione forced herself to sit up straighter. She took a deep breath.

"I need a favor."

"Do go on, Ms. Granger."

"You fought in a war for Circe's sake! Get a grip."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" Hermione asked, abruptly changing topics.

"Calling you what?"

"Ms. Granger."

"That's your name, is it not?"

"You know it is, but it's rather… stuffy… for you, I mean." He raised an eyebrow at her as if she were being absurd.

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose; she forced herself to drop the subject and focus on her primary reason for being here.

"I need you to break the law."

"Which one?"

"Well, actually, more than one." She took another deep breath and plunged ahead. "There are some potions I make that aren't exactly… legal," Hermione managed to spit out.

"I see."

"They're for people that don't have any other options. People that are dying—"

"People like Astoria Malfoy?"

"Err, yes…" Hermione said hesitantly.

"I should have known."

"Pardon?"

"There's no way Astoria would still be alive without some kind of near miraculous intervention. Draco hasn't been round to see me about it, and in fact, he's always a bit evasive about her condition. I've been wondering who he sold his soul to."

"That's a bit dramatic."

"How did you come to be risking your professional reputation if not actual jail time for a boy you once turned into a ferret?"

She stared at him.

"Don't answer. I can see that you're still a bleeding heart."

"You told me to help myself and then help the people that want to be helped," Hermione said softly, dropping her eyes to her hands. Why was he being so… odd. She wouldn't say cruel. His tone didn't cut, but it did sting. It was cold, disinterested.

"And I'm sure you enjoy playing that role very much. So why, pray tell, are you here?"

"I'm going to America for a while, and I'm not sure that I'll be able to get these potions back into Britain," Hermione answered, choosing her words carefully. Nothing she said was a lie.

"Why are you going to America?"

She didn't answer.

"Shall we have some tea?"

She shrugged, fighting the urge to tell him off. How dare he criticize her for helping his own God son? Unfortunately, screaming at him or storming out wouldn't help her. She needed him. If he wouldn't make these potions for her, she had no idea who she would ask.

Hermione knew a lot of people in the industry, so to speak, but no one in Britain was as good as Severus Snape. That was just the cold hard truth of it.

He summoned tea service with a flick of his wand.

"How do you take your tea?"

He might as well have asked her what her bra cup size was. Hermione was instinctively offended.

"You bloody well know how I take my tea," she hissed through clenched teeth.

"Or does he? Your assuming that one night a long, long time ago meant as much to him as it did to you. It would have to have meant a lot for him to remember how you take your tea. In fact, you're being a bit presumptuous," the voice in her head offered.

The thought was like a cold splash of water. Her stomach sunk.

"I'm sorry. I—this was not a good idea. I'll let myself out," Hermione said quickly, stumbling to her feet.

"Umm, wait, what about the potions? You're going to let people die just because you can't handle a socially awkward situation?"

Of course not. There had to be someone else she could ask. She just couldn't be around him. It was too complicated. He was too complicated… or she was. Yes, she was most likely the problem. She had no idea how she felt about him, really, and she had come here wanting things from him that maybe she shouldn't want. She really could be quite insufferable.

She strode out of the room, trying to force herself to not actually start running for the front door like some kind of panic stricken horror movie victim fleeing a monster.

"Ms. Granger."

She heard him, but she didn't stop. Nope, she needed to get away from him before she did something even more stupid than coming here in the first place.

"Hermione."

Her hand froze as she reached for the door knob. She didn't turn around.

"I—it's been a long time. I didn't want to presume you still took your tea the same way—with just a touch of milk. People can change, you know."

"Oh, hey, look at that, he does remember. Good thing you didn't do something rash and make a fool out of yourself or anything."

Wasn't the little voice in your head supposed to be helpful? Like shouldn't it give you good ideas or guidance? Hermione's mostly seemed to get a kick out of commenting, in the most unhelpful way, on her life.

"I still take it the same way," Hermione said flatly.

"Good. Would you like to come back in?"

"I don't now."

"Well, can you at least turn around?

Hermione did.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, raising her eyes to his. And she really was. For everything. She shouldn't have tried to cram him onto her twisted to-do meets bucket list, especially when he fell into both columns—must for the potions, want for the closure. She didn't even know what closure looked like with Severus Snape.

"You already said that," He reminded her.

"Right."

"I'll make Astoria's potion," Severus finally said.

"And the others?" Hermione really hated to push her luck, but she needed to know.

He sighed to make sure she knew it was an imposition.

"How many are there?"

"Seven."

Another sigh. "Alright—"

"Thank you!"

"Just until you get back from America. Unlike you, I don't feel the burning desire to help other people."

"Of course." She felt a tad guilty; while this was technically true, she was verging into grey territory. It was entirely possible she would never be back from America.

"When are you leaving?"

"In two weeks."

"Two weeks and you're just now sorting this out?" His tone said he didn't believe her, which was a reasonable enough response. Hermione had always been hyper organized. She didn't leave things until the last minute, especially big things like peoples' lives.

"It was an unexpected opportunity."

"Right. You'd better come back around tomorrow and start walking me through things."

Her mouth snapped shut with a near audible click.

"You did realize that if he said yes you'd have to spend more time with him, right?"

She should have. Obviously, his agreeing to help wouldn't somehow magically impart the knowledge required to brew these potions, and she couldn't expect him to reinvent the wheel, but somehow she hadn't quite planned for this.

She pursed her lips and settled for, "Thank you."

He just nodded. She stood there awkwardly, feeling in some ways very relieved and in others still unreasonably nervous.

"Was there anything else?" He prompted.

"Yes, was there anything else," the voice in her head teased.

Hermione bit her lower lip, hard, and nodded.

"Well, out with it then, Ms. Granger. Your 30 minutes is about up."

"I'm afraid you won't like it." She took a few steps way from the door and toward him.

"Can it possibly be worse than asking me to break the law?"

"Possibly." He just raised one eyebrow. "Just… don't laugh."

Another few steps. She was within arms length of him now.

"I rarely do."

Before he could say anything else and before she could change her mind, Hermione did the really stupid thing that she had been afraid of since the moment she write his name on her list of 'wants'.

She closed the distance between them… and kissed Severus Snape.

"I knew there was a reason you wore heels today!" The voice in her head crowed.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Whoa! Poor Hermione. She's on an emotional roller coaster right now; not that I can blame her. Finding out you're about to be forced by the government to marry someone and procreate or give up something that's a huge part of your life (magic) would probably throw anyone into a tail spin. So, how will Severus respond to this development? And why is he acting a little aloof toward our girl? Hopefully I'll get back to the keyboard soon and you'll find out. :)

THANK YOU to anyone that has reviewed, favorited, and/or followed this story. You're an inspiration. I hope you enjoy the latest chapter.