"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man

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The room that she entered was cold. Only once had she entered Snape's office, to retrieve ingredients for the Polyjuice potion. That had been many years ago. Hermione was an entirely different person now. She was no longer the girl who needed to impress teachers and answer each and every question. She was no longer completely focuses on books and spells. She wasn't the quiet girl that Harry and Ron had once hung out. They were now a group of three teens who were a love triangle, either presently or in the past.

Professor Snape motioned for her to take a seat with one hand, the other hand tucking his slightly greasy, shoulder length hair behind his ear. He took his time returning to his desk, he walked over to his bookshelf and picked up a small pile of books. He brought them to his desk and idly turned through a few of the books. He was pretending to read what they said; his eyes didn't move. He stared straight ahead, at the grain of the dark wooden desk. Hermione noticed the sweat that began to bead on the nape of his neck.

"Here are a few of the publications that you will need to complete the assignment." He mumbled. "Each contains passages that you will need to read and apply to the given examples."

"I believe that I own this one," Hermione said, pointing to a small leather-bound book.

"Yes, Ms. Granger." He agreed swiftly. "If you own it, please do not take it."

He piled up the books again, grasping them into his hands. Hermione saw that he was about to hand them to her; she reached out her hand and waited for him to set them there.

He hesitated, slowing moving the stack nearer to her. The books were nearly safe in her hands when he dropped the pile. The noise of the books reverberated on the stone floor like a loud smack across someone's face.

She moved to kneel to pick them up, yet he grabbed the hand that was still stretched out in the air. Her heart began to pound. The pounding grew so loud that she could feel it in her ears. He fingered the ring, like a blind man would read Braille. He turned her hand and looked at the ring, taking the entire image in.

"Ms. Granger," He began. "How is it that you came across this ring?"

"I've found it." She murmured. "I suppose it was a gift." She paused. "Do you know who the ring's owner is?"

"I would hope that no Slytherin would wear such an impostor of a ring." He looked disgusted. "It almost looks real…However; each authentic Slytherin house ring is engraved with Salazar Slytherin's name."

Hermione looked up at Severus Snape intently. He had just given her a wonderful clue; it wasn't a Slytherin who had graced her bed, after all. His deep, syrupy amber eyes reflected back wondrously. He pulled back a small amount, sensing that something was askew. Hermione was very pleased with him at the moment. She had momentarily entertained the idea that anyone could have been the father, even Severus himself. Now that she was sure that it wasn't him or any other Slytherin, she was able to feel a slight amount of joy. Even a small amount of joy and pleasure taken from the most wicked of professors at Hogwarts.

He took her momentary silence to explain the remainder of her assignment. She had barely paid attention at that point, wondering if perhaps Ron really was the father of her child. To her, anyone else made more sense than Ron. His body hadn't felt the same since, each time they had made love. However, each time she dreamt of her lover she could feel that she knew him. He had a feeling of familiarity to him. She was confident that was the only reason she hadn't sensed something off about the whole situation. She was sure that when she finally found the answer, she would be comfortable and that the paternity of the child wouldn't concern her.

She emerged from Snape's office feeling much more relaxed and at ease than she had in weeks. This feeling she had was comparable to those she'd felt when Ron agreed to raise her child with her. Their child, she forced herself to think. If she never knew the answer to her riddle, she would still have a father for her baby. She would never have to face the world alone with her pregnant belly or eventual child. He would always be there for her.

The only thing she had to face alone at the moment, pregnant belly in tow, was the after dinner traffic bursting forth from the great hall. She wandered between young girls who kissed on young boys and what seemed like an entire hallway teeming with new-born romances. Despite her happiness, she didn't wish her fate on any of those girls she had seen. Happiness is relevant, she remembered. She may want her child, she may feel no shame about her situation. She may be proud of her body's incredible ability to manufacture and bear life. She may be all of those things, but not everyone would be. Not every girl's parents would understand as well as Hermione's. For this, she felt blessed.

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Please read and review!

Wow, I haven't updated in a long while. Not to fear, now that I'm back from vacation and settled back down…I'll write more. Oh, and faster.

Kross