A/N: Ahem. Check the chapter title. Fasten your seatbelts, we are expecting some turbulence…

/AA

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The Mess

The new year brought more of the same. Her paper on the Lockhart trial was accepted for publication in Potions in Medicine after some revisions. She met up with Severus a few times when he had the time, but something was subtly different about their interactions ever since Christmas. He seemed more distant, closed off. The sex was still good but something subtle was missing, and she didn't quite know what, only that she missed it.

The success with the trial on Lockhart gave her another invitation to speak at HICCUP which was to be held in Geneva that year. Healer Trout was elated but she couldn't muster much enthusiasm, neither over the subject nor the conference, knowing that her true goal would never be realised. The outcome of the trial still made her feel guilty as Lockhart was still at St Mungo's, now with a deep depression from realising the truth of who he had been. Also, Severus wouldn't be there. He said he was too busy with his books and other research, wanting to publish the final few books in the series before he left Hogwarts and needing to double-, triple- and quadruple-check the recipes before sending the manuscripts off for printing. Perhaps him being absent would be good, however, since Fred was coming to the conference as well. She didn't expect to spend much time with him while at the conference, but he would certainly have been able to figure out a thing or two if he had seen her with Severus. Marit was coming too, but the other two Norwegian witches were already busy in new jobs.

~o~o~o~o~o~

With only just over a week until the conference Hermione was frazzled. Too much to do, too little time, and she was certain she was forgetting something important. Thus, she was not at all in the mood when Lucy announced that she was to stop working at five o'clock already that Friday.

"Are you mad, Lucinda? I have tonnes to do!"

Just at that moment the Floo in their office flared to life, and Ginny stepped out. "All ready?" she asked Lucy.

"Yup, she's ready," Lucy said with a grin.

Hermione barely had time to fetch her bag before Ginny practically pulled her along through the Floo. "Grimmauld Place!"

"What the… You practically kidnapped me!" She dusted herself off and glared at the redhead. Lucy had followed as well.

Harry came up to hug her. "Calm down, sis, it was for a good cause. We have tickets to a Muggle musical so we need to wrangle these two Purebloods into not making a fool of themselves. We're seeing Les Miserables tonight!"

A smile broke out on her face. "Harry, are you for real? You got tickets to a musical? For us?"

Harry grinned. "Yes, I've never been, you kept talking about going to the musicals and theatres and whatnot with your parents, and these two obviously have never seen one! Come on, let's get ready. We have a dinner reservation first."

The night was, in the other sense of the world, magical. Ginny was observant enough not to need too much wrangling in the Muggle world, as long as Hermione kept explaining all the technology they ran into. Harry was, thankfully, shepherding Ron, and Lucy knew how to manage in the Muggle world. Hermione explained the plot during their dinner, and both Weasleys promised to be quiet during the show and not to draw their wands on anyone. Hermione sat next to Lucy, which she was grateful for as it allowed her to lose herself in the performance.

"I didn't know Muggles had that much magic," Ginny told her as they left the theatre. "That was awesome."

"I know!" Ron said. "And then all that smoke and the lights? Made me think someone was shooting hexes but it was all fake, wasn't it?"

Harry, too, had enjoyed the show. "This was great, thanks for the idea Hermione!"

"Thank you so much," Hermione told Harry and hugged him tight.

They all returned to Grimmauld Place and spent the rest of the evening chatting, laughing and discussing the play while eating Muggle crisps and other snacks that Harry had bought to go with it all.

It was a near perfect evening, all in all. Ron wasn't too handsy either, to Hermione's relief, and he didn't even ask her to join him in bed. Instead, she hugged all of them good-bye at around the same time as Lucy left, and returned to her own flat for the night.

~o~o~o~o~o~

Lucy and Hermione sat in the tiny staff room at St Mungo's, eating a sandwich each for lunch. Hermione was due to leave for the conference the next day but finally thought she had most things under control, her speech was written and her overnight bag was packed.

"You know Friends with benefits, right? There ought to be a word for that but reversed. Like, Boyfriend without bedroom access? BWBA?" Hermione said, out of the blue. She was thinking about the last weekend at Grimmauld. It had felt like a return to the past, being able to relax with friends.

Lucy looked at her oddly. "Hermione, that's called Friend, remember?"

Realisation dawned. Both of them burst out laughing, in Hermione's case tinged with desperation and embarrassment.

~o~o~o~o~o~

The conference and the trip was a completely different experience, this time. Hermione had chosen to arrive the morning of the first day of the conference this time. She got up early to catch a Portkey to Geneva from the Ministry, made it through the checks and controls after arrival, and activated the short-range Portkey that all attendees had received upon registering. The Portkey dumped her in an enclosed courtyard belonging to the hotel where the conference was held, seemingly a small, dilapidated old building in the old quarters of Geneva with strong Muggle-Repelling wards on the outside. Once inside, the Wizarding part became more obvious, with floating chandeliers, marble statues that changed poses, and an opulent décor with dark wood panels and Baroque-style furniture and drapes. The overall impression was dark and slightly over the top, she thought, especially compared to the light lavishness of the Alchymist in Prague. She was already dressed in sensible business robes, and so she merely checked in, got the key to her room, which wasn't half as nice as in Prague, deposited her bags and went down to attend the sessions.

Marit found her at lunch, when she was already deep in discussion with someone from Portugal who wanted to discuss her latest article and seemed to have misunderstood almost everything about it. Hermione was glad for the distraction when the Norwegian witch joined in and took up arguing on her behalf. For some reason, she felt rather detached from it all. The two witches went out for dinner in Geneva, finding a small Muggle restaurant not too far from the hotel. She excused herself early afterwards, citing a headache and that she needed to prepare for her talk. Fred would arrive the next morning since his talk was in the afternoon.

Her own talk was in the morning on the second day. The early hour would mean that the audience would mainly consist of those that were actually interested in the topic, but she was in one of the larger rooms this time. After a quick breakfast of tea and toast, it was time.

She got through her talk mostly on autopilot. Fred was there, she'd seen him waving at her from the back, and she thought she saw Millicent in the crowd. To her surprise, the room was almost completely full, despite the early hour. She'd been given a full half hour rather than the standard fifteen minutes, too, and when she ended for questions lots of people were clamouring to be heard, requiring the moderators to intervene.

Hermione saw Millicent again at lunch when the other witch joined them at the table, and Hermione quickly introduced her to both Fred and Marit. Millicent wasn't presenting anything but she was grateful for the chance to see what was going on, and Hermione didn't mind introducing her as Hogwarts' new Potions Professor to the various people she saw. Millicent kept giving her odd looks, however, and Hermione was a bit unsettled by it, quite certain they had nothing to do with her talk.

Her thoughts were confirmed when Millicent asked to talk to her once they'd finished lunch. They found a secluded corner in the courtyard with two benches, securing it with a Muffliato.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

Millicent frowned and looked rather uncomfortable. She took a deep breath and began. "I just wanted to say… to tell you to be careful with him. I know what's been going on between you and that's none of my business. He's changed a whole lot since the war but this past year has been different. He's… he's seemed happy, almost. Don't hurt him, okay? You could do a lot of damage if you treat him badly."

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed. Yet another one who knew. Still, there was no point in denying it. "I don't want to hurt him, Millicent."

"It's just… I think he's used to being cast away, you know? Never being someone's first choice, always being used and cast aside as soon as something better comes along. Don't do that to him, okay?"

"I'll… I know. I won't treat him like that. I care for him, too much in fact." Hermione couldn't stop a blush from rising. She hadn't permitted herself to think of what Severus Snape meant to her, not properly.

"Then perhaps you should let him know that."

Hermione sighed and nodded. "What was it like doing an Apprenticeship for him?"

Millicent smiled. "At first it was tough, you know. Although Horace had approved of me as a Potions Apprentice I still had to prove that it wasn't a mistake to take me on. We argued lots, but gradually he came to accept me and it became easier when he saw I wasn't a complete dunderhead. Then when I started teaching some classes and he saw I could handle it and that the kids even liked me, it was as if he finally understood the point of having me there."

Hermione laughed. "I could imagine. How are things with Neville?"

Millicent smiled. "Oh, we're good, it's great in fact. He's such a sweetheart. I heard you're starting the trial soon on his parents? That's… I understand it must be difficult for you."

"Thanks, yes it's not as easy as everyone would think, what if things go wrong? I'd never be able to look him in the eyes again."

Millicent nodded and Hermione felt relieved at her understanding the difficulties. They walked off together to the next session which was on Amazonian poisons and their use for neurological healing.

Fred's talk was held in the biggest room as the conclusion to a session on Charms. Of course, he had set it up with lots of practical demonstrations, almost like a show. Unsuspecting victims were pulled from the audience, so Hermione had strategically chosen a spot near the back with Marit and Millicent. Everyone seemed to love it, however, both his products and the talk. He demonstrated the way they'd set up the monitoring charms to check for various physical reactions, and everyone laughed when the preferences of an unsuspecting member of the conference organising committee became visible in a cloud above his head. Marit whispered to her that the wizard was a bit of a creep, and that he'd been involved in some suspicious financial activities surrounding the conference funding. Fred then moved on to show a few products, not the racier ones but a few of the more advanced charms they sold. When the talk ended, Hermione was sure Fred and George would be able to expand the WWW emporium to several other European cities, and he was already taking owl orders with a Quick-Quotes Quill.

The conference gala dinner was nice and featured some indoor-safe WWW fireworks, and she danced with Fred, some wizards she'd met earlier and others she didn't know. The next day had more talks, some on rather interesting topics although nothing related to her work.

It was a relief when she was finally able to go home, checking out already on Saturday evening instead of staying another night. She snuggled on the couch instead, watching silly television shows with Crookshanks on her lap and Iris adding her commentary from where she was perched on the backrest of the couch next to her.

~o~o~o~o~o~

Some time before she left for Geneva, Neville had asked her if she thought she could try the treatment she had trialled on Lockhart also on his parents. She'd told him to talk to Healer Strout who was medically responsible for their care. Healer Strout had immediately agreed and went to talk to Healer Trout, who also thought it was an excellent idea. The idea made her even more nervous than the Lockhart trial. What if it went wrong? Neville had tried to assure her that he would never hold her responsible, but she was still uneasy about the idea. Still, Healer Trout thought she should try, and so she started setting up the Arithmancy calculations for them, to see if it might work at all given their special type of brain damage and what the dosage or other adjustments should be. After all, Obliviations and extensive Cruciatus exposure didn't exactly target the brain in the same way.

As soon as she made it back from Geneva she threw herself back into the calculations, checking and double-checking the variables. If the treatment was to be used for different patients it would be nearly useless if it wasn't robust enough to handle a variation of patients, but for this one she wanted to have a very detailed baseline to start from and then cross-checking various simplifications. She started with Frank and put in everything she could find in his medical journals, anything from his age, length and weight to his hair colour, shoe size, food preferences and his Hogwarts House. She even considered asking Augusta Longbottom for an interview, but refrained when she realised that the stakes would be even higher if the old witch knew what Hermione was planning. To her surprise, the equations seemed to balance. The results wouldn't be perfect, not after so long, and the potion needed another modification due to the Cruciatus and torture, but it seemed he would be able to get some of his mind back.

Alice Longbottom yielded similar results when she started calculating her odds, which also frightened her. There was no way to know exactly how the mind would react to the changes brought on by Hermione's charms and potions. Still, she brought her results to a meeting with Healer Trout and Healer Strout, giggling slightly at their similar names when she sent out the meeting request via the internal aeroplane memos. She also asked Severus to take a look at her proposed changes to the potion, just to cover all her bases. The Healers agreed to her ideas, told her that they would set up the actual administration of the charms and potions — "we need to make sure the process is robust enough to be managed by people other than you" — but she was also sure they wanted to shield her somewhat from the responsibility of the trial in case there were any issues. Not that she minded, she was grateful for their thoughtfulness. The trial would also be reviewed and overseen by a member from the hospital's research board since neither of the patients were able to actually consent to participating.

She didn't see much of Lucy since the other witch was busy with her own research, spending a lot of time at the Spell Damage ward, and Hermione had to start brewing again in the labs. At least Severus had reviewed her proposed changes, made a few minor adjustments and approved the ideas. Having his support gave her courage. After a month or so, the potion was complete and she handed the whole lot over to Healer Strout who would set up the actual administration some time after Easter.

~o~o~o~o~o~

She saw Severus the weekend after Geneva. Millicent's words kept ringing in her head, and she knew the other witch was right. She knew what to do. After all, it had been clear from the start. But why was it so hard? She didn't want to hurt anyone and surely Ron would be devastated if they broke up. She'd be cast out from the Weasley family gatherings, she'd have no one left. Harry would side with Ginny and Ron, certainly. Still, she couldn't pretend anymore. She wanted to be his, for real, no matter if he wanted a relationship or not. She wanted to walk hand-in-hand with him through Diagon Alley, kiss him in public, let her friends know they were seeing each other.

~o~o~o~o~o~

Hermione hadn't visited the Weasley clan since Christmas, out of guilt and confusion. Harry and Ginny had asked her to come to Grimmauld a few times since her return from Geneva but she claimed there was too much to do with the Longbottom trials, which they accepted even if they seemed to think she was obsessing unnecessarily over the risks. March was mainly spent in a haze of calculations and potions brewing, checking and re-checking her work.

As if on cue, her Floo flared to life a Thursday evening in early April and soon Ron's head poked through the fire, his red hair muted by the green flames.

"Can't you stay over tonight? You know, for some… you know? It's been ages, 'Mione!"

She suppressed the twinge of guilt mixed with annoyance and revulsion. It hadn't been that long for her, after all. She'd lost track of when they last slept together, was it at the Burrow for Christmas? No, it might have been some time in January at Grimmauld.

"Sorry, Ron, my period just came in," she said instead which had him back off instantly. That too annoyed her especially since it was true. Immature boys, they didn't have to live with the blood and the mess and the pain, why couldn't they at least act sympathetic?

"Will you come to the Burrow the weekend after next, anyway? It's the Easter weekend, we're having lunch on Friday since Bill and Fleur are going to France for the holidays."

She bit her lip as she thought about it. It would be nice to see the others again, after all. "Alright," she conceded.

~o~o~o~o~o~

That's how she found herself Apparating to that familiar spot just outside the Burrow at lunchtime on Good Friday. Already she could hear the whole confusion of Weasleys gathered, laughing, talking, shouting. Why were there so many of them? And where were they? She couldn't see anyone. A hush fell over the house as she called out a simple Hello from the hallway.

And there was Ron, emerging from the kitchen. He looked anxious, for some reason. She could hear hushed whispers around the corner, were they all hiding? What was going on?

And then he was falling to one knee in front of her and he held up a box with something sparkly and likely inherited from a Prewett somewhere and he was saying things she couldn't make out against the roar of blood in her ears as her world imploded. Her field of vision narrowed down to nothing as if she was about to faint. — "Hermione, be mine" — "marry me" — "I have a good job now, you don't have to work" — "Mum has the wedding all planned out" — "we're meant to be together, I found a house here in Ottery St Catchpole" —

"NO!"

And just like that, she fled. Ran out of the house, turned on the spot and Disapparated. She ended up in her flat and Warded it tighter than their tent during the hellacious camping trip during the war, but it soon felt too stifling to stay there so instead she put on a coat and walked out into London.

She didn't return until late at night. Already a few owls were pecking on her window, seeking entrance. There was no point in punishing them for their owners' stupidity, so she reluctantly let them in, dumped the letters in a pile and summarily dismissed them all. One of the letters was red. Of course. Luckily she knew a trick or two about dealing with Howlers these days. She tore it open which caused Molly Weasley's shrill voice to fill her flat with the expected insults — Harlot, how dare you, lead my Ronniekins on, like a daughter, everything we did for you — before she could cast a Silencing charm around it followed by a Bombarda to blow it up in a thousand little pieces that quickly burned themselves out.

She cried herself to sleep that night, but not before sending off Iris to Hogwarts. The other letters lay unread where she'd dumped them.

~o~o~o~o~o~

He arrived the next day. She didn't want to talk about it, instead she flung herself in his arms, wanting to hide from everyone and everything but him. He didn't ask, instead he kissed her deeply, drinking her in, meeting her frenzy with equal passion. She Banished his frock coat and boots and practically tore off his shirt, but not before he managed to divest her of her top and jeans.

Somehow he managed to get her into the bedroom and toppled her onto the bed while kissing her. How could she ever have doubted? No matter what, he was her choice. She kissed his neck and flung her arms around him, breathing in his scent. His black hair hid her from the world while he did something wandlessly again, leaving her naked. His hands started to travel down her body while she managed to get him out of his trousers, taking his boxers down at the same time. She wound her legs around his thighs, forcing him up to her, his cock prodding the inside of her thigh.

"Need you, Severus," she told him while she tried to wiggle into position.

At last he complied, shifting his weight onto one elbow. In a swift motion he buried himself inside her, making her gasp. "Is this what you want, witch?"

"Yes! More! Oh gods."

He kissed her again, deeply, before picking up the pace, slamming his hips into hers. She clung to his shoulders as her orgasm built rapidly, and almost saw stars as she exploded around him. He grunted but kept the pace steady, clearly not done with her. When she had recovered a little he shifted his weight, hooked one of her legs over his shoulder and started moving again. The new angle allowed him to go even deeper and she could do nothing but hold on to his arms and moan. Before long he had her on the verge of another orgasm. He reached down and kissed her again which pushed her over the edge, causing her to moan into his mouth. He stiffened and grimaced as he followed her.

Afterwards she lay snuggled tight against him, her head on his pectoral muscle, her hand on his stomach while the other arm was tucked between them. She'd slung a leg over his thigh and simply enjoyed the closeness, the connection.

"Severus?"

"Yes?" His long fingers drew lazy circles on her shoulder.

"Ron proposed…"

He practically bolted from the bed and snatched his clothes, getting dressed in record time.

"Wait, where are you going? Severus!"

"This, Miss Granger, has been nothing but a mistake which I intend to rectify immediately. I have no intention to sleep with another man's wife."

She reached for him, trying to get him to stop for a moment, to listen to him. He slunk out of her grasp.

"But Severus…"

He was buttoning his coat. His dark eyes held none of the warmth she usually saw in them.

"Goodbye, Miss Granger."

And just like that he was gone, from her flat, her life.