A/N: Hello, children. I have returned. Many moons have passed since last I updated this fic. However, I am happy to report that we are back on track, and all systems are go. You can expect semi-regular updates - once every week or two from here on out. Eh, life's busy. What are you going to do?

Like all things Harry Potter related, I own nothing. Not one scrap of it. Not the tiniest hair from the interior of Snape's nose. If I DID have one of those, though... **Shivers in perverted delight** Hoo, boy.

Dating Severus Snape had its pros and cons. On the plus side, my skin had never looked better. The man knew how to whip up a nice facial cleanser. I think it's the rosehips he includes. Also, I never lacked for intelligent conversation, and Snape's kisses curled my toes. On the negative side, he was a moody bastard that believed in taking things slow. It had been four months, and I hadn't even seen his chest. The little nightie I bought on our excursion to Diagon Alley was still lying neglected in a drawer.

Moreover, it was likely to continue languishing in a sad scrap of silk for the foreseeable future. Severus was upset with me.

I'd received an invitation to Harry's and Ginny's fifth anniversary party, and it'd been addressed to Hermione Granger and guest. I bit my lip, knowing immediately who I wanted to invite, and yet I was equally aware that I would probably have to drug Severus with a sleeping potion in order to get him there. …And I'd like to point out that drugging a potions Master is considerably more difficult than drugging someone who is not.

I'd pulled the invitation out with trepidation and shown it to him. The bastard had just lazily cocked an eyebrow at me and drawled, "And?"

"I'd like it if you went with me," I said.

"Would you now?"

"I'm sure that Harry and Ginny would be more than happy to see you there." I kept my voice carefully level.

"Now if that was true, I'm sure I'd have gotten my own invitation from Mr. and Mrs. Potter." Severus practically spit the words.

"Oh, why won't you come, you stubborn buzzard?"

"I'm curious, Hermione. Under what possible conditions could you imagine me consenting to go," Severus looked at the invitation briefly before throwing it on the table in disgust, "to the Burrow of all places, to celebrate the anniversary of two of the most obnoxious students I've ever taught?"

We'd been sitting on the couch in my living room reading together, something that had rapidly become one of my favorite dating activities with Severus. I'd never met anyone who enjoyed reading as much (or more) than I do. We'd spend an hour or two reading, and then, when I got bored, I was able to enjoy staring at his hawkish profile. I'll admit that his nose inspired truly dirty, perverted thoughts in me. Eventually, he'd glance over, catch my eye, and pull me into his lap for an enjoyable, toe-curling half an hour.

But not that night. No, like an idiot, I had to wave around the sodding invitation even though I knew the likelihood that he'd go was only infinitesimally larger than a snowball's chance in hell. Still, he didn't have to be so rude about it.

"But it'd make me happy if you go, Severus," I pushed.

"But it'd make me unhappy if I go, Hermione," he snipped.

"Everyone will see us there together, though. I know you'd take a great deal of pleasure in shoving it in Ron's face. It's the Burrow! He's bound to be there!" I knew I was really reaching. "Just think about how jealous and annoyed he'll be."

Until that point, he hadn't bother looking up from the most recent issue of Ars Alchemica. Mentioning Ronald caused him to drop the paper into his lap with an irritated huff, the pages crinkling ominously. Normally, Severus is very careful of his journals. "Do you really think that I'd be that petty? To show up at your friends' party for the express purpose of making them uncomfortable?"

I cocked my head, unsure of how to answer that… because, um, yes.

"Merlin, Hermione. I'm a git, but I try not to trespass when I don't have to." At my gimlet-eyed stare, he shrugged. "Don't blame me that you don't know me as well as you think you do. If your ex-paramour comes up and makes a scene in the street, I'll happily make him look like a twat! However, I'm not about to go to Harry-Bloody-Potter's anniversary party to cause a scene."

Maybe he was right, and I didn't know him as well as I thought. The man had been a mystery to me for years, and I was only just now getting to see who he was beneath the snarky, gitty exterior. I opened my mouth to acknowledge his point, but instead I managed to spill the following tripe: "I object to the use of the word twat. My vagina is very attractive, and I don't appreciate you likening it to Ronald."

He leaned forward, his nose practically touching mine, and hissed, "If you had a valid need, I would attend the party. However, you seem far more interested in trotting me about like a show pony! Will I be obliged to learn a new trick or two so that I may perform them for all of my former students?"

My mouth clicked shut so fast I bit my tongue. "That's… that's patently unfair, and you know it." As I spoke, the liquid copper of my blood flooded my tastebuds. My nostrils flared. "I'm sorry that you are unable to differentiate between my wanting to attend a party with you and a desire to turn you into a circus sideshow. You are blind, so blind, Severus Snape."

"I knew, I knew this would never work. It would have been better to end this travesty of a dalliance before we started becoming entangled." Severus threw his journal on the table in disgust and stalked out the door.

I slumped back onto my hideous floral couch (undoubtedly chosen by Minerva before I accepted the post) and contemplated my failure to communicate with my… I hastily wracked my brain for the appropriate word… with my Snape. What had just happened? I felt like I'd been given a crash course in how to break up in twenty words or less.

Should I cry or should I laugh? Was he serious? Did he actually think we were done? Did I owe him an apology for pushing so hard, or did he start it by being surly right off the bat? It's true that I tried to wheedle and cajole him into doing what I wanted. I'd have done the same to Ginny. If anything, that spoke to how comfortable I was in his presence.

A tear slipped down my cheek. I hoped we weren't through. While it's true that we hadn't been dating for long at all, I'd grown genuinely fond of the man. And his luscious bum.

My door banged open, and my heart jumped to see Severus coming back. I offered him a tentative smile, but he saw it and raised me a scowl, pausing just long enough to scoop up his copy of Ars Alchemica. This time when he slammed the door, my painting of the troll Glyfborn the Handsome fell, the frame cracking when it hit the floor.

He ignored me for the next three days.

I hated it. I tried to approach him during the time he was normally grading in his office, but his door was locked and warded. He didn't show up for our normal reading time (8 PM – the perfect moment to eat chocolate biscuits), and I couldn't even corner him in the library when I iknew/i the most recent edition of the Potioneers Quarterly was on hold for him.

The man knew how to be elusive.

After repeated efforts, I surmised that I had no choice left but to risk airing our dirty laundry in the Great Hall. I sat next to him at breakfast and calmly buttered my toast. There were other seats, but I knew that he would feel it beneath his dignity to move or even acknowledge that I was next to him.

I took a sip of my tea and swallowed nervously. "I want to talk to you, Severus."

"It's nice to want things."

"Not according to the Buddha," I returned piously.

"I'm quite certain that we have nothing to discuss, Ms. Granger." His voice was cool, disinterested even.

I put my hand on his leg. "It's Professor, and I'm sure that isn't the case."

"Cease and desist manhandling me, woman."

"Let me just say this, and I'll remove my hand." I snuffled unattractively. "I asked you to come to the party because I liked where our relationship was going. If you hadn't have come, I wouldn't have been cross with you. I'm sorry that I pushed too hard and made you feel as if I thought you were someone who took pleasure in being a git. However, you're not blameless either, and you shouldn't have left the way you did." My lower lip was quivering and I was doing everything in my power to hold back the tears.

When I looked up at him, I saw that he had turned to face me. His eyes widened, and he began to look panicked when I made a snorking noise and rubbed my nose on my sleeve.

"What exactly are you saying, Hermione?" The glacial chill was gone from his voice, leaving him to sound unsure and tired.

"I'm saying that I'd like to sit down and talk about this so we can move forward."

Severus scowled. "Move forward? You made it quite clear that you found me to be intractable and not worth the effort. You called me blind and a buzzard."

I folded my napkin in my lap in half, then in thirds. I twisted it around my thumb and started ripping it into tiny bits as I considered just what I wanted to say to assuage his fears. Like a puzzle piece falling into place, I suddenly understood that it was fear more than anything else that was his motivation.

As a spy, Severus's life must have depended on him having an accurate understanding of the lay of the land. Over the years, he'd developed a nuanced and instinctive grasp of who he needed to be, both as a Death Eater and as a member of the Order, so that he could do his job. It must be terrifying to him to be in such uncharted territory. Although the stakes were less… fatal, Severus was not a man who liked either surprises or new situations.

"We were having a disagreement. It's a completely normal turn of events. Your refusal to attend Harry's party with me was not my cue to rub ashes in my hair and join a convent." I cocked my head in thought. "Although with the amount of action I'm getting, the only difference between Hogwarts and a convent is ugly head coverings."

I watched Minerva walk by with a taxidermied pheasant clutching the woolen fabric of her pointed hat in its dead claws.

"No, scratch that bit about the head coverings," I mused as the monstrosity bobbed along the Great hall. "No difference."

"Hermione," his voice was tentative and vaguely confused, "let's focus for a moment. Forget the hat. Are you… do you wish to continue seeing me?"

I felt the faintest dawnings of hope stir in my chest, and I turned to look him in the face. His lips were tight, but his eyes were nearly soft. "Silly man. Of course I do."

I watched him take a deep breath, the food on his plate barely touched. As he thought, he tapped his finger impatiently on the table. He stood then, and I felt my heart sink into my churning stomach as he gathered his mail and turned on his heel. Before he took even a step away from me, he stopped and said, "I shall have to… think on this." And then he was gone.

Whilst moping and stirring my tea, I noticed a slip of paper that had fallen from his stack of owl post. I retrieved it, and glancing at it, immediately discerned that it was a solicitation from the Daily Prophet. Knowing that he surely had been about to throw it out, my conscience didn't bother me when I decided to read through it.

Dear Prof. Snape,

It has come to our attention that little is known about the work you did as a spy amongst the inner ranks of the Death Eaters. It is an accepted truth that the role you played in defeating He-Who-Can-Now-Be-Named was pivotal. However, the details are lacking, and the public has a right to know.

We at the Daily Prophet would like to offer you 5,000 Galleons for your story. Moreover, we'd like to point out that we have very tastefully and successfully covered exposés from the following key players in the war against Lord Voldemort:

Lavender Brown
Draco Malfoy
Pansy Parkinson
Ronald Weasley
Millicent Bullstrode

Please consider allowing the Daily Prophet to enlighten the public as to the true face of Severus Snape. This would be most easily accomplished with your full cooperation. However, we are willing to proceed without your direct involvement. Several of your former students have volunteered to be interviewed about their experiences both in the classroom and on the battlefield.

Most Sincere Regards,

Rita Skeeter

I rolled my eyes at the beetle's rather blatant threat and Incendioed the parchment. Snape certainly wouldn't consider something so tacky.

The day of Harry's and Ginny's party neared, and Severus and I still hadn't ironed things out. However, I caught him reading Being a Lover: An Emotional Tapestry in the library, and that kept the small hopeful flame that burned in my chest from guttering.

A/N: Like it, Love it, Hate it, Review it!