The Pitfalls of Being an Insufferable Know-it-all

Twenty Eight

I had a broken rib and a lot of bruising following my escapade at Malfoy Manor. After an assessment in the spell-damage ward and treatment for my physical injuries at the hospital, I was hauled to the Auror Office for a grilling. It was one of several uncomfortable grillings, actually. It was all rather dramatic, but they even took out a warrant to search my house for evidence, rather than simply rely on me to hand over all my materials and research.

I had to detail everything that had happened, exactly how it had happened and with no prevaricating in-between. The Aurors were not happy and I can't say that I blamed them. I'd like to say I'd walked a fine line between being deliberately evasive and, I suppose, obstructive.

Except, I rather crossed that line, several times, probably.

Still, they could not deny we had delivered them some prime participants in this saga — had given them a more than head-start on the matter. Yet, when I was finally allowed to leave the Ministry, they left me in no uncertain terms that my part in this investigation was not concluded.

I was granted a few days of leave from work to recover. My physical injuries were somewhat trifling, in the grand scheme of things, but their tone brooked no argument from me. I had no doubt in mind as to the real reason they wished to keep me away from work, and it was nothing to do with my personal well-being.

Harry and Ron visited me as soon as I was home.

'What the hell, Hermione?' was the greeting I had from Ron. 'Why did you keep this from us?'

'How could I have told you anything?' I posed. 'You're both Aurors, your positions would have been untenable.'

I tried to explain to them my reasons, but they have never really understood my drive and passion for the causes that I take up. I don't resent them for that — I sometimes don't understand it myself. For various reasons, they did not face the same barriers at work that I did. They did not have to feel they were continually fighting a losing battle. They didn't have this ever pressing need to make a difference.

During this visit there had been something rather surprising in that they entirely neglected to mention my partner in crime. And it was to my chagrin, actually, because there was something I was dying to know. So, before they took their leave, I simply had to ask:

'Have you heard anything about Severus?

They shared a none too enthused look between them.

Ron folded his arms. 'They have finished questioning him and the charges may be dropped pending verification of your…story.'

'It's not a story, Ron — it's the truth.'

'We'll see.'

There was little point in arguing. They were both smarting a little. I didn't blame them, either. It all seemed a little crazy when one thought about it.

'They're saying in the Prophet you're together…'

'Ignore the Prophet,' I muttered crossly.

I was to gain some clearer answers later on that day regarding my compatriot and his fate. Some hours later, after I had drifted off to sleep in front of the fire, I awoke to find the man himself sitting across from me in his chair.

His chair — how fanciful of me.

I made a soft noise of surprise when I caught sight of him. How inordinately pleased I was to see him, too.

I pulled myself up quickly and rubbed a hand over my face. There was a book open on my chest and it tumbled to the floor. Luckily, it fell face down, and so I left it there. It was for the best.

'How are you?' He asked in his usual tone of disinterest.

'Fine, thank you; yourself?'

'Ridley has confessed to his role in matters and so the charges against me have been dropped.'

Considering how important a result this was, he might as well have told me his favourite cauldron had just melted for all the animation present.

I smiled widely. 'What a relief.'

He merely nodded and I cast around for inspiration. 'Tea?'

'Thank you, no.'

I held back a sigh at his formal demeanour. It wasn't fair… How could I be similarly put-together when I was lounging in my pyjamas in the early evening?

'By the way, do you realise you have half the journalists in Wizarding World hiding in the bushes of your garden?'

My jaw dropped.

'I'm afraid they saw my arrival.'

I sighed at length. 'They will write whatever they want, irrespective of what we do or say.'

They already had, in fact. I thought it best not to broach some of the rather pathetic and outlandish newsprint that had been devoted to us in recent days.

We lapsed into silence once again and I pulled uncomfortably at my attire. I wondered how to disperse the faint air of awkwardness that hung in the air. I wondered, even, why he had come if he was not disposed to, well, anything.

I cleared my throat, realising there was one thing I could ask. 'Would you tell me about, ah, what happened that night? I've heard bits and pieces, but of course, I remember nothing.'

Being subjected to Obliviate was a source of huge consternation for me. Not only because I felt I should have reacted better to prevent it, but also, I had a taste now of how my parents had felt. The context was different, but the violation remained the same. It was not an easy thing to dwell on.

Severus nodded his acquiescence and proceeded to detail the events as he saw them. Unusually for me, I was content to simply sit there quietly and listen, with no questions or interruptions. I had to really concentrate and listen, because to hear him retell the story was almost akin to listening to someone read from Standard Book of Spells Grade 1. I had to interpret for myself those moments which could have been anxious, or dangerous, or disastrous.

And yet, impersonal as his rendition might have seemed, there were certain nuances that I could note. I knew that extended pauses indicated he was at pains perhaps to edit out any sign of emotion or melodrama. Far from being frustrated by this, I found it endearing. I should still have loved to have known truly what went through his mind, however.

Come the conclusion, I was impressed and I was grateful to him. In the grand scheme of things, I was relatively unscathed, but the potential had been there for far greater damage.

'Thank you, Severus, for rescuing me.'

A look of mild surprise passed over him and there was a hint of animation filtering through his countenance for the first time since I'd woken up. I wondered if it meant he had dreaded this recounting of that night's events?

'Is it not very regressive of you to admit you needed rescuing? And by a man, at that.'

I felt myself smile and give a flippant shrug. 'It seemed only fair to give you an opportunity after I rescued you from Azkaban that time.'

He closed his eyes as if pained.

I laughed, causing my bruised ribs to heave painfully and I clutched at them. 'Ouch; I forgot I can't laugh.'

I got to my feet to stretch out my body slightly. 'I'm never flying on a broom ever again.'

He ignored me; he was reaching inside his robe for something. Out came a small, ornate jar, which he proffered towards me.

'I expect they gave you the cheap stuff at St Mungo's; try this for your bruising.'

I forced myself not to raise my eyebrows as I approached him. 'Thank you; that's very...kind.'

I chanced a surreptitious look to see if he would take umbrage at being labelled kind, but he didn't rise to my bait. His expression remained blank.

I'll try harder, I thought.

'Just need someone to rub it in me, now.'

He did blanch at that! His eyes shot to mine and they narrowed as if scolding me. I smiled and endeavoured not to laugh. 'You can manage,' he stated gruffly.

'Sometimes…' I replied lightly, turning and putting the jar on the mantelpiece.

I paused at the fire, wondering still at this proverbial elephant in the room — this heavy tension that had descended. My weak attempt at humour had not permeated it.

There was something I needed to say though. I felt serious once more and turned back to face him.

'I must thank you, Severus, truly, for aiding me in this. I never could have imagined getting here, with you, of all people, that day when we first met again in Edinburgh.'

It didn't take much to remember how foolish I'd felt that day. I looked at my hands, feeling myself smile as I continued.

'I never thought I would ever find it in me to be grateful for those troglodytes at the Ministry, or for your machinations at the start, but I am, because it means I have got to know you and —'

I trailed off sharply, because he suddenly flew to his feet and loomed large before me.

'Pray, do not thank me,' he warned urgently.

I simply stared, taken aback by his sudden energy.

'Don't thank me for being selfish, arrogant, dismissive, self-important and many other things that spring to mind. You deserve better, Granger; you could have easily pursued this by yourself — don't delude yourself into thinking otherwise.'

All of a sudden, he made to leave, but I managed to shoot out a hand to his arm to stall him. Our eyes met and his were like flint.

'Perhaps I'm thanking you in spite of those things,' I advised quietly.

He appeared to be momentarily speechless, for he only stared at me.

'I do not, actually, think you are those things that you label yourself —'

He snatched his arm away suddenly as if burned.

'I know who I am, Hermione, but it is of no matter; our business is concluded and there is little to further to be said on that score.'

'But what of our personal business? Are you going to pretend to be offended by those feelings that I have towards you as well?' I gave him a hard stare to emphasise the point.

'I'm not offended,' he snapped.

'Then what is it?' I questioned irritably. 'You simply don't want to continue our association, is that it? Well, fine; I'm a big girl. You made your thoughts on the matter clear once before.'

I folded my arms together with an indolent shrug and boldly considered him.

It was meant as a get-out for him. Of course, it was by no mean 'fine' to me, but I could sense his discomfort, and thought it might simply be easier for us both if he accepted my observation and left. I wasn't sure I was in the right frame of mind to get into an argument with him.

To my alarm, however, the more I faced him with such studied obstinance, the more his countenance seemed to soften. Indeed, when the corners of his mouth twitched with amusement, I felt a ripple of indignation swell.

Before I could scold him, however, he leaned down and kissed me. His hands were at my neck, holding my face to his. It was a brief contact, though. He lifted his head away and then sighed softly against my hair.

'If I were any other man, Granger, I should beg that you give me a chance to prove myself to you.'

Any breath that I had was painfully lodged somewhere down in my trachea.

'But I regret that I am not. If you lay your gratitude and kindness, and whatever else it is you feel, at my door, it will simply get trampled on, twisted up, and thrown away, in time.'

I shook my head slowly, trying to find my voice.

'It is true,' he affirmed.

He released me and took a step backwards. I was rather too dazed to do anything. He cleared his throat and spoke in a more loud and business-like tone.

'I'll bid you well, Granger, for the future. If… Well, I'm not sure what it is you could ever need from me, but my door is always open to you.'

This is what he wanted for us, above all else, and I felt crushed to know it finally. I felt the tell-tale sting behind the eyes and I grit my teeth together, determined not to succumb. I clasped my hands together to prevent them from trembling and I lifted my head defiantly.

'I'm not sure what it is I could ever need, either.'

His expression, frustratingly, never faltered. He dipped his head towards me in acknowledgement and then he turned on his heel and he left.

As easily as that, he left.

I felt numb, if truth be told. A few tears spilled out, I admit it, but I wiped them away fiercely. What was the point of breaking my heart over it? It was nothing I hadn't known might happen, deep down. He'd warned me that he was not prepared to engage in anything long-term.

I only had myself to blame.

And yet, soon the numbness gave way to infinite frustration. This was the worst part.

Because. I think he really did care about me.

If this sequence of events was bad, things took an unexpected turn for the worse when I returned to work a few days later.

There was no fanfare, of course; instead I was summoned straight into a meeting with not only my boss, but the head of the department, too. After some cursory pleasantries were got through regarding my health, the two of them exchanged a meaningful glance.

It was to be my immediate boss who would take the lead.

'Ah, we were shocked, Granger, to hear of your exploits these last few months. Especially after we expressly told you to drop the matter of investigating Augurey numbers.'

'I'm afraid I simply couldn't turn a blind eye…' I offered as diplomatically as I could.

They glared at me each in turn.

'You think we turned a blind eye? May I remind you, Granger, it was Severus Snape himself who advised us.'

I gave perhaps a flippant shrug.

'You chose not to present all the facts, though, didn't you, Granger? For instance, you never told us you were colluding with Severus Snape. Did you deliberately set out to hoodwink us?'

I bit the inside of my cheek. 'I was not in partnership with Severus Snape at that point. You will have to speak to him to confirm why he said those things.'

I watched as the older man's jaw clenched.

'I admit I did not furnish this department with certain details, but only after it was made clear they wouldn't be welcome.'

'This department is now a national laughing stock thanks to your actions.'

'And what of the Augurey's that we have failed to protect?'

That was met initially with silence.

The other man took up the mantle now.'This meeting is about your conduct as a representative of this office — conduct which is extremely suspect.'

I only stared.

'Indeed, Granger, I never thought I would say this, but I have serious doubts about your commitment. Moreover, you clearly do not have the Ministry in your best interests.'

I nearly laughed aloud. It was obvious which way the conversation was going, and there was almost something epiphanous in the way it had unfolded. The way forward to me was obvious.

Fuck the consequences. Fuck them all, I thought.

I rose to my feet sharply and they both looked up in surprise.

'Gentlemen, I'm afraid I have somewhere else to be.' I held up my hand when they looked to protest. 'I'd like to submit my resignation to you, effective immediately. I see now my efforts will be better served elsewhere. Good day to you.'

With that, I left the room, entirely ignoring their stunned expressions. I strode through the office to my desk, caring not a jot for the eyes that followed my every movement. I packed up the few personal items that I had and then stalked out to the lifts. No one dared say a word to me.

It was only as I stepped out into the cold air of the street that I realised I was shaking. I Apparated into my living room and collapsed straight onto the settee. I felt slightly sick and I felt my eyes burn traitorously.

What had I done?

I swiped furiously at my eyes and made for the sideboard, whereupon I poured myself a tot of whisky. It burned deliciously in my throat and I closed my eyes gratefully.

I was free, but I was also jobless.

What would I do? How would I manage?

But in truth, I wasn't sure I really cared. Perhaps it was the culmination of events wearing me out, in any case, it felt oddly liberating.

I started laughing to myself, recalling the faces of my superiors as I'd left.

It was all over. Ten years of hard work extinguished in the work of a moment. I breathed deeply, over and over, thinking hard. It was an odd experience, because I never thought I could ever feel this blase about having no job.

I think, somewhere along the way, I'd come to see that my work wasn't everything. My life did not have to revolve around my various crusades. They did not have to give my life meaning.

As the day dragged on, however, and after I'd perused the latest offering from the Daily Prophet, I felt my initial adrenaline rush drain into something more problematic.

Anger and frustration.

I focused in on my frustration, because I knew eventually it would give way to sadness.

I turned to wondering at the efforts I had put in, over the years, over the recent months, and what had I emerged with?

It was dawning on me that it might be absolutely nothing.

If anything, I might only have gained contempt. More contempt.

Admittedly, I am no saint. I could feel personal joy at the success of securing the future of Augurey's and creatures alike, but I could also feel resentment as I wondered now what else was there for me.

The Aurors were considering charging me for providing a false statement over the matter of George Cresswell.

The Ministry was setting up a special team to deal specifically with trafficking, but…I was not to be a part of it. I knew the officials would blunder on as they always had, making the same ill-informed judgements and decisions. Criticism was like water off a duck's back to them — they'd play the game, sputter the usual lip-service about change, and then settle back into the old routine with not a care.

And then there was Severus. In that moment I resented his part too. He had resumed his position in the Society with much fanfare. No one deemed him to be a trouble-maker, if anything, he was a revolutionary. No one questioned his motives, and yet I was criticised for not being true to the Ministry. And the gossip surrounding our relationship centred not on him, but on my supposed ambition and ruthlessness.

I resented them all in that moment.

And so, what did I do to pull myself through the aftermath of the events detailed in this narrative? What did I do get myself back on my feet? What did I do to find a way through this mire of resentment?

I decided to to go to Australia.

It seemed a really obvious thing to do, looking back, but the idea did not hit upon me straight away. I was jobless; had the Aurors on my back; the press were having a field day at my expense and Severus had dismissed any need for my company. I was in danger of falling into a period of ennui that I might have struggled to get out of. The injustice that I felt, the seemingly pointlessness of my actions, and the frustration of my life in general all conspired together to leave me feeling rather miserable.

It was symptomatic of the state of my relationship with my parents that I did not immediately think to go and spend time with them. A holiday in the sun — what better cure could there be? What better inspiration could I find with a huge amount of distance and altered perspective?

Of course, my parents were aware of my situation, or at least, my somewhat edited version. I had to tell them lest they uncovered it from the more outlandish version of events in the press. Initially, I refused my mother's invitation on the grounds that I simply had to find myself work, as soon as possible. Not only that, but the cost of an international portkey might be too frivolous an expense for someone unemployed.

But as it became increasingly obvious that I had absolutely no idea what I would like to do, and when the Aurors finally decided I would not be charged with anything, I began to wonder if a break from it all might not be exactly what I needed.

And I was right.

I spent nearly three months there, in the end.

During those three months I was not idle. I was either spending my time helping out at my parents' dental practice or cogitating at length as to what I was going to do with my life. Admittedly, there could not have been many better backdrops for such contemplation! The warm sunny weather had gone some way to improving my disposition almost from my immediate arrival.

And having somewhat of a project — that is to get my life back on track — had given some focus to my interactions with my parents. A distraction to the ever present elephant in the room, which, of course, was Australia itself.

My parents were happy there and settled, there could be no doubting that. It became increasingly obvious to me that my guilt over what I had done was very much my problem. They had moved on, yet, ironically, I had not.

I was keeping abreast of matters back home. I took the Daily Prophet most days and I was in contact with the Potters and Weasleys, of course. The Augurey incident had died down as far as the press was concerned. This was not before they had reported that I had lost my job, however. They couldn't even allow me my resignation, with phrases like "jumped before she was pushed" and "position untenable" bandied about.

I won't even go into one of the articles dedicated to me in Witch Weekly.

Inspiration as to how I was going to earn a living was still somewhat lacking, though. Harry had been keeping an eye on Owls arriving at my house and forwarded any on to me that looked important. I'd had a few unsolicited job offers — some people think they are so funny.

And as for matters of the heart, I had done somewhat of a good job in reconciling these. I say somewhat, because there were still times when certain thoughts consumed me, and I'd end up feeling sick to my stomach. There had been no word from him. In a particularly low moment I had started drafting a missive to him, but then I realised, disappointingly, there was very little to say.

What was the point in me spilling my heart out? Because for all the reasons why we should be together, there would be reasons why we shouldn't. And how could I truly profess to understand his psyche when there was much I simply did not know about him. I knew that I could not force the matter, and truthfully, neither did I wish to.

I think I'm an optimist deep at heart, for in spite of this dead end, I knew what we had had was a real, tangible thing, and so, could it be that one day, matters might resolve themselves in my favour?

It transpires that I was not wrong, because, as it happened, reality was infinitely much more accommodating.

After several weeks of my self-imposed exile, I'd started to develop a well-worn routine. The Wizarding World in the British Isles was such a small one, that there was much to be said about the anonymity I felt blending into the Muggle context. In the early evening, where the shade was easier to come by, I'd take a walk along the esplanade. Sometimes I'd simply walk. Sometimes I'd take a seat in a cafe and stare out across the bay with a cup of tea (or wine), or sometimes I would take a book.

The day in question, I was in my usual spot — in my favourite cafe overlooking the beach, shaded in part by an accommodating nearby palm tree. There was a chilled glass of white wine before me and my latest read in hand. It was always peaceful and this day seemed to be no exception. Until, that is, the chair opposite mine was suddenly dragged out from underneath the table and a figure folded itself into it.

I snapped my head up at the sound and flinched violently when I saw who it was. I snatched the sunglasses off my face and set them down with a clatter.

'Severus?' I was completely aghast — slack-jawed and staring.

He shook his head with a pained grimace. 'Really, Granger… Of all the places in the world you could go and you drag me to this… hell-hole.'

It was no hell-hole, of course; it might even be paradise to some.

If I had had more about me I might have laughed as he glanced around, scowling derisively at almost everything he could see. He shifted his chair marginally so that no beam of sunlight hit him squarely, whatsoever.

I set my book down (face down so that he might not read the cover) and I blinked at him in wonder.

'You look well,' he observed stiffly.

'What, ah...' I felt my lips tug into a smile and I put a hand to my mouth as if to wipe it away. 'What are you wearing?'

He glared at me and I had to bite my lip. He has sworn me to never, ever, recount his attire of that day. I will say that he blended in not unusually and therein lay the amusement.

'Clearly, we are no longer in Edinburgh, Granger, freezing to death, and so I have dressed accordingly. The only item I forgot to bring with me is my dignity, of course.'

I was dying to laugh now.

'Never mind me,' he continued, getting into his stride. 'What is it you are wearing?'

I glanced down at my top and shifted, only marginally uncomfortable. It was a little odd, being that exposed before him.

I shrugged flippantly. 'It's nothing you haven't seen before.'

I was saved from hearing his response by the arrival of a waiter, to whom I requested two further glasses of wine.

'Better make them large ones,' Severus interposed giving me a look.

I simply raised my eyebrows.

'What are you doing here?' I burst out once the waiter had retreated. 'How did you find me?'

He folded his arms together. 'I am come to speak to you, obviously, and… Well, Longbottom told me you were staying with your parents in Australia, and when one month dissolved into two and no one could confirm your return, I decided I would have to take the initiative.' He frowned to himself, muttering under his breath, 'cost me enough, too.'

'Australia's a big place,' I pointed out.

'Minerva knows your parents live somewhere in Melbourne and with a little detective work I discovered where.'

'Why didn't you just go to Harry; he could have given you the address!'

He stared at me ferociously.

'Fair enough,'I murmured. 'How did you find me here? Have you been following me?'

'Only for a few days.'

My eyebrows shot up and my mouth dropped open.

'Relax, Granger; I could hardly turn up at your parents' front door, could I?'

Two wine glasses were set down. I considered him as he took a generous sip of his.

'What matters did you wish to discuss?' I asked contemplatively.

He did not look at me for a moment. 'You never told me you had lost your job. I found out days later from the Daily Prophet, of all places, and by then you had already left.'

'I resigned,' I clarified primly. 'Though, admittedly I had very little choice. What could you have done, anyway — hexed them into giving me my job back?'

His eyes narrowed in irritation.

'Sorry,' I muttered.

'Actually, I am come to offer you a job.'

'A job?' My heart sank so completely I felt pain in my chest.

'Yes — at the Society. In the chaos you have wrought things will have to change. The Ministry will make some token gesture, but their incompetence is already clear in that they did not pick you for the task. The Society will have to step into the breach, but it is likely to need the full-time dedication of someone. I would trust no one else to do it but you.'

I said nothing for a time. I watched him and could see his complete and utter sincerity. And what a fantastic job opportunity it sounded, too. I would have bitten his arm off for such a chance, once upon a time, but right then I couldn't think of anything worse. Funny how things can become so very complicated.

I gave a small grateful smile. 'I'm honoured and flattered, Severus, but, ah...' I shook my head slowly. 'How could we ever work together…? We could not.'

His jaw tightened, but he said nothing, his face an impenetrable mask.

I smiled at him to show him that I was genuinely grateful. More than that, I was impressed that he should come all this way. He did not move to convince me to change my mind. In fact, he said nothing at all and this is how we sat for a few moments — in awkward silence. I picked up my wine glass and continued my observation of the waves.

'It's a long way to come, Severus, to offer someone a job.'

I didn't dare look at him. Still, he said nothing.

I drained my glass. 'Shall we go for a walk?' I asked, mostly out of discomfort, when the silence had elongated beyond anything that could be deemed companionable..

He was obviously lost in some reverie and didn't respond immediately. 'Very well,' he agreed.

We both got to our feet, and he must have caught my surreptitious glance at his legs, for he growled warningly at me.

'Say nothing, Granger.'

I nodded, smiling to myself.

We walked quietly down the esplanade. Every now and then I observed him alternate between grimacing and wincing at the environment around him.

'You hate this place, don't you?' I observed with a laugh.

'I'm sure it has charm for some,' he replied grimly.

'Merlin, that sounded almost diplomatic; are you unwell?'

He gave me a indignant glare, which I entirely ignored. I was beginning to enjoy myself; I'd missed how challenging it was conversing with him. Finding a quiet spot, I stepped up onto the low wall and onto the sand the other side. I sat on the wall and stretched my legs out in front of me.

'I was relieved to hear that Ridley has admitted to everything and so there will not be a trial.'

I was aware of him moving to sit beside me.

'They have not charged anyone else, besides those hired thugs. Are you disappointed?'

'A little,' I admitted.

The Aurors had yet to close in on the main orchestrator in all of this. I assumed my suspicion over the link to Malfoy Manor had been investigated, but then, nothing would have surprised me. They never would charge anyone else beyond Ridley and the others. A lot of the money that had been made couldn't be traced to anyone in particular. Eventually, the investigation was shelved.

'But in the main, I'm happy with the result,' I continued, brightly. 'And I'm happy to move on, now. It seems certain people enjoy seeing me fail, if that's the right word, but it no longer bothers me.'

He hummed a noise of agreement. 'You have been treated particularly poorly; I detect the workings of the Ministry in that.'

'No doubt.'

'I pity them; they won't be free of you for some time yet, I'd wager.'

I laughed. 'Perhaps not, but we'll see.'

'Would you ever consider staying here?' he asked suddenly.

I glanced at him sharply. 'Here? I suppose I have considered it… Sometimes it seems like it might be nice.'

This was the truth; a blank slate to start anew could be most inviting.

He was silent again for a moment.

'Would you come back with me, Hermione, if I asked you to?'

My blood seemed to halt in my veins and I felt tingling all over. 'Why would you?' I looked at him, but he kept his eyes forward.

'Well...' He paused momentarily. 'It is very foolish, I'm sure, but since you left... I appear to have developed a dull ache, somewhere in between my ribs, that refuses to subside. I have felt it for some time now, but it has lately got worse. I fear the only option was to come and find you—the cause of it.'

I stared stupidly at him.

'I find it eases somewhat, in your presence…'

I was dumbfounded. To be sure, my mind went blank and all I could hear was an odd rushing noise in my ears. It sounded like the waves on the beach were crashing in against my skull.

'I know I am neither worthy of your consideration or responsible enough to protect it… and yet, I am also so very selfish in that I simply cannot resist anymore.'

'Selfish —'

'Yes,' he interrupted firmly. 'My whole life has been one of repression, jealousy and resentment — a toxic mix that one cannot just cast aside easily.'

We were both silent, then.

'I always knew you weren't well-rounded,' I whispered finally.

I smiled gently at his subsequent mock affront. It quickly dissolved back into something serious, however.

'Perhaps you, yourself, have undergone a change of mind?' he asked. 'I would not resent you for it, after the deplorable way I spoke to you before.'

I looked at my hands, smiling to myself. 'I am not so capricious as you, Severus,' I gave him a teasing nudge. 'I loved you before and I love you still.'

How easy those words tripped off my tongue!

I got to my feet and looked down at him, feeling very much assertive. 'But what about you, hmm? What of those words you spoke before? Do you mean to chew me up and spit me out?'

I can laugh about it now. At the time, of course, there was nothing funny about it whatsoever. There was nothing amusing in the complete stillness of his posture and expression, nor in the way his dark eyes were wide and staring, and yet, oddly unseeing. I stood there transfixed also, stuck in some weird, awkward moment of unknowing.

Eventually, he blinked back into being. 'No one has ever said those three words to me, Hermione; that is my problem.'

He gave a shrug and minute though it was, it spoke of a whole lifetime of loneliness and disappointment.

'Ah, in that case you'd do well to ensure that I repeat them, often, so that you may get used to them.'

He nodded. 'You know, you still haven't actually answered my earlier question…'

'Oh, you don't want to move here?'

He gave a look of long-suffering. 'If you truly wish to stay, I suppose I would —'

I smiled widely, cutting him off. 'I will return with you, if you wish it.'

He rose to his feet. 'That is a relief.'

I think he meant to touch me or embrace me or do something, which was most welcome, of course, but…

In feeling such unexpected joy and relief, I also felt increasingly playful. Who could blame me for enjoying having the poise and assuredness in our exchanges for once? How often did I ever have the upper hand? And it was not for moments of cheap triumph anymore, for a while it had been simply for the pure pleasure of his attention and,I hoped, mine too.

I looked at him haughtily.'I knew you wouldn't be able to resist me — that it would only be a matter of time.'

His eyebrows shot up.

'And to think you travelled halfway around the world at that… I was unsure if you would succumb to that one, but, here you are…'

His expression now was one of real surprise. 'Really?' was all he could manage.

I burst out a laugh. 'No, not really, I am not so cunning. But I think I hoped, deep down, that a period of time might be benefit you for some self-reflection and reconciliation.'

'You are getting too big for your boots, Granger,' he warned, shaking his head.

I stepped into him to cut him off. I put my arms around his shoulders and held him to me. He was quiet for a moment, and then:

'Mind you, I would have been very impressed, my dear,' he whispered against my hair, 'had you indeed manipulated me in such a calculating fashion.'

My ears pricked up and I pulled back slightly. 'Oh?'

'Yes.'

'I see… Well, what if I tell you that I booked my return Portkey some time ago…'

He stilled in my arms. 'Then you never intended to stay here?'

I let out a cackle of amusement and shook my head.

As much as I would like to pretend I had knowingly orchestrated this conclusion, the fact remains I had not. I could never have expected from him anything as remotely spontaneous or sentimental as this.

But I was infinitely relieved by it. He had not said a great deal, actually, but in what he had done and said, I felt there could be little else to have better shown me so completely his depth of feeling and resolve.

And that was enough for me to give him a chance.

I'm not naive — nothing lasts forever and, perhaps, we wouldn't.

We would give it a good go, however, of that I felt sure.

Here then feels the right juncture to conclude this narrative. I had little to no idea what the future held and that was fine.

And whilst it seemed as though another chapter in my life had, indeed, come to an end, I found I was not disappointed. Things hadn't worked out in the way I might have hoped or envisioned once upon a time, but that, also, I decided was fine.

Because I often wonder now if know-it-alls fail remarkably in knowing what it is that's good for them, sometimes.

There were new paths for me to take and, the best part was, I wouldn't be beginning any of them alone.

FIN

AN: Who would have thought I'd finally finish this one? I certainly didn't when I started it however many years ago it was. I hope you all enjoyed and thanks so much for reading and reviewing.

I have no other stories in the pipeline, but I have enjoyed writing again and so never say never. Let me know if there is any particular story of mine you might like to see a sequel or companion piece to — perhaps that may be a focus for inspiration : )