A/N 1: I couldn't leave you dears hanging. Things are ramping up here in the real world, but I had to update one more time. I'll be answering all reviews (as usual) when I get the chance, but I have read them all... several times. Keep 'em coming!

Chapter 20

Snape descended the stairs slowly and walked until he stood directly in front of Hermione. She cast about for excuses. He has wards, an idiotic voice babbled in her mind, it must have been wards set up around the house. They alerted him when –

"I have awaited your return for nearly three hours, Granger," he spat, enunciating each word perfectly. His mouth lifted over his teeth in a snarl. "You will tell me this instant: Where. Were. You?"

The anger that had welled up immediately at his tone leaked away as Hermione looked into his eyes. They were dark pits in the moonlight, and she saw that his expression held more than anger. She glanced at the house, and then back to the dark man. He looked her up and down, as though he expected to find her altered in some way.

"Did you… are my parents all right?" she asked at last.

His face darkened further, and he stepped forward, well into Hermione's personal space.

"Answer my question, girl, or I swear – "

"No." She said it firmly, feeling the word resounding in her chest. "No. I won't tell you a damn thing, Snape." She jabbed a finger into his chest. "Now you answer me: are my parents all right?"

"You were not – " he cut himself off, and seemed to search for the words before continuing: "Did you leave the house of your own volition?"

Hermione frowned at him.

"There was an emergency. I had to go."

She made to step around him, to go and check on her parents herself, but he seized her by the arm and drew her close.

"Do you have any idea of what you risked, Granger?"

She met his eyes, and instead of trying to wrench herself from his grip, which had been her first impulse, she leaned against him, her chest brushing his, her hand seizing his shoulder. Surprised, he drew back from her a little, but Hermione kept her grip on him. He dropped his eyes after a moment, and Hermione felt a surge of some strong emotion rise in her chest before she squashed it down.

"Yes, actually," she said quietly. "I do know what I risked. I risked myself and my parents, and probably you as well. And everyone I look after at school." And then, in a gesture that she had never thought she would reverse, she took his chin in her hand and turned his face so that he had to look at her. His eyes widened at her touch, and she left her hand there, her fingers cupped gently around his jaw. It was hardly a question – it hardly needed asking. But she said it anyway: "Did you hurt my parents, Snape?"

"Of course not," the man breathed, his eyes filling with something hard and distant. He pulled resolutely away from her, brushing her hand away from his face. "We have an understanding – an agreement." He rearranged his pristine robes and travelling cloak, and then glared at her from behind his dark curtains of hair. "An agreement that you came very close to cancelling this evening."

"I won't apologise," she told him, "but I'm glad you were here to watch over them while I was gone."

He stared at her, surprise evident on his features before he wiped his face of all emotion once more. He turned away without another word, heading up the path toward the street beyond.

"I'm going to make tea," Hermione called to his retreating back. Her words came out in a warm cloud in the freezing air. "Join me, if you like."

Snape turned and looked her up and down as he had done before.

"You are half frozen again, Granger. You must learn to wear a coat if you insist on gallivanting out of doors in the dead of winter."

"Do you want tea or not?" she snapped. "If you do, you'll have to leave off the scolding until I've warmed up a bit."

She turned without waiting for an answer, and smiled slightly to herself when Snape followed her up the stairs of the porch and into the house. Hermione took his heavy black cloak and waved him into the kitchen. She heard the kettle whistle briefly a moment later, and cast a quick Muffliato up the stairs towards her parents' room. Snape sat at the kitchen table, a pot of tea brewing before him. Hermione took a chair for herself, and tried not to shiver as she sat. After suppressing the temptation for half a minute, she reached out and cupped her hands around the teapot to warm them.

"Who did you think took me?" she asked a moment later.

"I…" Snape trailed off, and Hermione glanced up to see him staring down at his own interlaced fingers on the tabletop. "There are any number of individuals who might see the benefit in capturing you or your family."

"As you did?"

His mouth turned up bitterly. It was nothing like a smile.

"Indeed. But I am intent on keeping you, Granger. We're not through, after all."

"Right," she said, smiling bitterly herself. "You've got to finish plundering my mind for hidden treasure. I'm surprised you haven't had more success with that yet."

"You have proved a good study of Occlumency."

It was not a compliment, and Hermione refused to take it as one. She fiddled with her teacup before answering, "I can be annoying that way, can't I? Quite the swot."

He frowned at her, and she poured them each a cup of the hot, fragrant tea.

"I wouldn't say that," the man answered quietly before taking a sip of his tea.

Hermione, suddenly a little uncomfortable, cast about for something to change the subject.

"My parents said that you've stayed for dinner and cards with them a number of times over the months."

Snape's small smile was genuine this time, and Hermione felt herself returning it.

"They are kind," he said slowly. "And I think the least I can do is to offer them a little company – however poor – while they are thus sequestered."

"But doesn't it go against Death Eater principles? Choosing to spend time with Muggles?"

Snape shrugged, and met her eyes squarely.

"I've spent much of my life in the company of Muggles." He took another sip of tea, and looked down at the table.

"We've been improving the solarium," she said to fill the sudden silence.

Snape snorted.

"The balcony, you mean?"

"It's almost a greenhouse now, actually," Hermione answered.

"Conjured glass on a mouldering patio does not a greenhouse make. I'm sure that Professor Sprout would agree with me."

"Actually, I think she'd agree with me," Hermione said smugly. "We've managed to put in a lot of flowers that I duplicated and grew from the ones you brought my parents a few weeks ago. I… might have even improved them a bit."

"Indeed?" Snape took a swallow of tea, an eyebrow raised in question.

"Stop looking so sceptical. Come and see."

Hermione stood, and gestured for him to follow. He snorted again but complied, and Hermione led him to the back of the house, where a door opened onto the balcony-cum-solarium. The stairs down to the backyard were sealed for the time being, creating a wide, enclosed space lit by a single exterior floodlight.

"Ta-da!" Hermione said, grinning widely as Snape turned in a slow circle, taking in his surroundings.

Her parents hadn't had many indoor plants to choose from, but Hermione had been able to not only multiply them by magic, but also make them grow and then bloom faster. And so there were dozens of flowers almost over spilling their pots along the conjured shelves in the solarium: orchids, violets, lavender, and a huge number of her mother's favourite, forget-me-nots. Hermione smiled at Snape's wide eyes and obvious surprise.

"You have… outdone yourself, Miss Granger," he said slowly. "You've created a garden in miniscule – and in winter, no less."

"Too right," she answered. "And you haven't even seen the best part. Here – "

She reached out and picked a tiny, brilliantly blue forget-me-not. She took Snape's hand, turned it over, and placed the flower in the centre of his palm. The little petals immediately began to open and close in a slow, gentle rhythm. Snape gasped, and stepped back quickly, closing his fingers around the moving flower.

"Oh," Hermione said, a little confused by his reaction. "I suppose I should have warned you. It's just a little charm I found – years ago, actually. It'll wear off pretty soon. Sorry."

"Not at all," Snape said after a moment.

Hermione returned his dour look with a smile she could feel almost in her heart.

"It was a nice way to pass the time with my parents. Now every time they come in here, they'll have a bit of my magic. At least for a little while."

Snape nodded, and then looked at Hermione in a way that made her feel a little lightheaded, as though he could see everything she was thinking without needing Legilimency. He seemed to appraise her that way for a moment, and then took a small step closer.

When he spoke again, it was almost in a whisper. "Have you heard, Miss Granger, of the term Taboo in a magical context?"

"I…" Hermione searched her memory for the word, a little confused by the non-sequiter. "I think so. It's a jinx, isn't it… but conceptual?"

"Verbal in this case," he answered. "One can choose a word, or name, to jinx so that whenever it is spoken, it Summons those aware of it."

"It… must be a difficult spell to perform."

"Nearly impossible to do effectively, let alone on the scale to which I refer."

Something prickled down Hermione's back, and she almost convulsively thought it before catching herself: Volde –

"You-Know-Who?" she asked.

Snape gave a tiny nod.

"It happened last time, too, didn't it?" she said. "In the last War, I mean. That's why… it's never been only about fear."

"Not only, no. And now, especially, it is a… practical way of tracking those who – " he cut himself off, and looked down at the flower still opening and closing in his hand, before continuing, "I am sure you know what to do with this information."

"Of course," Hermione said at once, without thinking about it. "But why – "

"And I am equally sure that you will forget who has provided you this information."

"Yes…" Hermione said, "but I – "

"The Taboo has been in effect for some time. It will have… had some results already. I heard about it only this evening."

"You…" Hermione trailed off, wondering how to phrase her question – wondering if she could even begin to formulate it in her mind.

There was something that simply didn't add up here, something that had been niggling at her for months now. It was the inconsistencies between the image she held of this man; the Death Eater who held her parents hostage while he tried to extort information from her, and the Half-blood who had sat at his own kitchen table, in the house he'd so thoroughly improved for her parents, sharing a cup of tea, quiet conversation, and now crucial intelligence. This was the man who had let her join her family for Christmas, who had watched over them in her absence, and who had never, despite his power over herself and her fellow students, pressed his advantage any further than the agreement they'd made.

Snape was watching her, and Hermione realised that she'd been looking into his eyes as her mind went into overdrive. Even the passwords to his office don't add up, the nattering voice said loudly in her head. Something so small and unnoticeable that only someone with Muggle heritage would recognise it. She continued to stare back at him, the superimposed images of the Death Eater and the man before her, the dissonance rising up inside her mind like a song she knew by heart that was terribly, irrevocably out of tune.

The man turned and left the solarium abruptly. After a confused moment, Hermione stumbled after him into the dark living room and through the kitchen. She sat back down at the table, intent on another cup of tea, but Snape did not join her.

"I will see you in several days," he said over his shoulder as he walked into the hallway beyond the kitchen.

Hermione sat for a second, staring down into her steaming cup before she jumped up to follow him.

"Wait," she commanded.

He'd donned his cloak and she saw in the dim light of the hallway that he'd already reached for the front door.

"What is it?" he asked, his back to her, his black hair and cloak blending seamlessly with the shadows.

She approached him and reached out to touch his shoulder. Before she could, he whirled around to face her, his pale visage the only thing she could see clearly. He was as expressionless as ever, but she felt the intensity of his gaze.

"I want to know…" she trailed off, trying to hold his eyes, his stare almost too much with the darkness pressing in around them both. "The things you say and the things you do… they don't…"

"Do not misinterpret where my interests lie, Granger," he said, suddenly harsh. "Our world is entirely different now, and you would do well to remember that I was one of those who made it so. I knew what I did then. And I know what I do now."

"That doesn't – that isn't to say that you couldn't reconsider your – "

He leaned forward, almost closing the space between them, so that shadows crept up his face, obscuring his eyes.

"Do not suggest such things to me, girl. Don't even – "

He cut himself off and, looking down, Hermione saw that his hands had reached out for her, but that he'd restrained himself – barely.

"Fine," she said, taking a long step back and squaring her shoulders. "Fine. You don't have to answer my questions tonight. Goodness knows I didn't really answer yours. There are other ways to find out."

Snape's head tilted slightly to the side as he considered her, and Hermione raised her chin defiantly.

"Quid pro quo, Professor," she said. "Turnabout is fair play."

He paused for a moment, and Hermione felt some of the bravado leaving her system as he regarded her.

"You forget, Miss Granger, that I do not play fair."

And, without another word, he walked away from her and into the night.

A/N 2: And there you have it. Less of a cliff to leave you hanging on.