Chapter 35: In Which We Talk Particulars
Hermione woke to the pleasant sensation of a warm person pressed against her. She stretched, and he shifted a bit, which then brought the less than pleasant sensation of prickly chin stubble pressed against her shoulder.
A glance at the clock showed it was 7:38. Later than her usual wake up time, but from what she guessed, quite a bit earlier than Snape's. She got out of bed and did her normal morning routine quietly so as not to wake him. An hour later she was showered, dressed, and debating about what to have for breakfast. Five minutes perusal of her kitchen showed that she had a fine collection of secondary ingredients but no primary ones. Unless she wanted to make tea or stewed spices, she needed to head out. She left a note for Severus on the bathroom mirror, hoping he'd find it there, and went to the market.
Saturday mornings in early summer meant the farmer's market would be open and filled with goodies from the local countryside. She didn't have to be back at Hogwarts until noon on Sunday. So you'll need up to four meals worth of food. She browsed about the stalls, grabbing tasty looking morsels, not really thinking about how to put them into a meal. We both like to cook; we'll figure something out.
Leaving the market with various bags, she strolled by a bakery. Warm, bready smells called gently to her, drawing her within. A few minutes later she left with pastry for breakfast and bread for lunch, dinner, or both.
Walking home, it occurred to her that she had a whole day, with Severus, ahead of her. A whole day with nothing planned. Just lots and lots of time. She began to feel mildly panicky. What would they do all day long? A wicked thought danced into her head. Well, that's an hour, maybe two tops. That still leaves a lot of time left over. Was it okay if she wanted to read for a few hours? Would he just amuse himself? What if they ran out of things to talk about?
Stop dithering! You know what's really bothering you: does he fit into your life? Are you willing to fit him in? And what kind of changes have to be made in going from me to us? What is he going to expect? Is he a cat: can I just leave him some food, pet him on occasion, and he'll take care of himself, or a child: in need of constant attention?
Hermione, you are being an arse! He can amuse himself. He can take care of himself. He's been doing the-on-his-own-thing longer than you have been alive. Calm down and be rational about this. It's one day of unscheduled time. You'll find things to do, and it will be fine. If you totally run out of things to talk about, you can start on wandless magic lessons.
But it's not one day. It's the rest of our lives. It's saying goodbye to my life.
It's saying goodbye to loneliness. Plus, it's hello to conversations that keep your mind active and happy. Hello to sex that isn't in your dreams. Hello to a future you had all but ruled out.
Hello to having a future ripped away from me again.
That's not going to happen again.
But it could. He's older than you. And had a hard life. And lots of people still think he's evil.
And he could get hit by a motorcycling nun tomorrow on the way home from your place. No guarantees in this life. But it's not likely to happen. You've spent seven years ensuring that you won't get hurt again; that's long enough. Take the risk girl. You're a Gryffindor, damnit! You stood by Harry's side day in and day out until the final battle. You faced Voldemort! You faced Bellatrix Lestrange! You can face this as well.
She realised she was standing in front of her door and was unaware of how long she had been there. Feeling somewhat foolish, she unlocked the door and went to the kitchen to unload her groceries. She listened carefully at the foot of the stairs but didn't hear any sounds from above.
Hermione unpacked the fruit and pastries and put them on plates. She debated coffee or tea and went with coffee. The pastries were chocolate and hazelnut; they would blend with the richness of coffee better. She washed the berries and placed them in a bowl. The clotted cream went into a bowl next to them. She arranged the bowls in a pleasing circle on her dining table and set some music to playing. Never let it be said that I cannot set a nice table in the face of uncertainty! She heard her shower turn on and glanced at a clock: 9:14. Finally! That man is not a morning person. How on earth did he survive teaching for so long?
Twenty minutes later he was showered, dressed, shaved, and sitting at her table, munching a strawberry.
She sipped her coffee, and noticed he was in last night's clothes. "Do you want to keep some clothing over here? Pyjamas and some comfy things?"
He smiled up at her, chewing a bite of pastry (He had gone straight for the hazelnut). "I thought you would have figured it out after our first nocturnal meeting. I don't wear pyjamas."
"I had wondered if that was your normal sleep habit, or if I had just showed up at exactly the right time."
"My normal routine. After leaving Azkaban, I didn't see much need for them, and now I find them somewhat uncomfortable. They get tangled in the sheets. However, I would like to keep some things here, and I imagine you'd find it convenient to do the same at my place."
"Yes, as nice as your dressing gown is, I'd rather wear my own clothes." They were quiet for a bit, both aware of what they were tip-toeing around.
Finally, as she nibbled a chocolate pastry, he said, "I guess the real question isn't: 'will we keep some things at each other's home?' It's: 'whose home are we going to live in?' I'll admit I'm rather attached to my cottage. Actually, I'm quite attached to my lab, but in that it's located in the back garden of the cottage, I don't see how to keep the one without the other."
"I like this house, but I'm not particularly attached to it. Moving would not bother me too much. Is your home able to hold two, or, well, since the whole point of this law is to make babies, more people in it?"
"With some creative remodelling it would work. Adding extra rooms aren't quite the problem it would be if we were Muggles. Doing it in such a way that my neighbours don't talk is another story, but I'm sure we can figure a way to do it."
"So, your place. How soon do you want to do the move?"
"How about after America? I know the last weeks of school are hectic, and this way you don't have to be bothering with packing, moving, selling your place, and finals, grading, Leaving Feast and Graduation."
Hermione thought for a moment. "That will work. I suppose this is our practical considerations conversation. I should come out a bit ahead on this place. I'm not worth a lot, but I'm not in debt either, besides the mortgage I mean. You know what we make at Hogwarts."
He nodded. "I'm also not in debt. The cottage is mine, free and clear." She could see him doing the mental math, "I'm worth about 3.7 million."
She blinked, and blinked again. His book hadn't sold that well. Every wizard in the world could have bought a copy, and he still wouldn't have made that kind of money. Finally words formed. "Pounds or galleons?"
"Galleons. Unless we're talking about real estate, groceries, or cookware, I think of money in terms of galleons."
Hermione did the math in her head and whistled softly. "I've got to ask, how did you make that much money? I could teach at Hogwarts until the end of time and not make that kind of gold."
"Raves. In my spare time, I make designer drugs for the party circuit." Hermione looked aghast. Then she noticed the grin trying to break free on his face and began to smile herself. "Nothing sinister. Spinner's End is located in a part of London that gentrified. The Princes bought that house around the turn of the last century. I sold it when the values went sky high. I made some on the book. More on my potions work. If I accept a project, and it looks like it will sell, I take expenses plus a percentage, instead of a straight fee. Last year I got saddled with taking care of the Malfoy fortune, which pays me a stipend to keep Draco in line. Not that he needs it, but since he was fifteen when the will was drawn up, Narcissa and Lucius didn't know what kind of man he'd become… Anyway, I've shadowed a few of his investments, and they've paid off well. Add in compound interest and…"
"And you've hit the point where you couldn't spend it all in one lifetime if you tried."
He nodded."That said: here's something else that's important. I grew up poor: wearing my mum's hand-me-downs during inconvenient growth spurts, poor. When the mill closed, my father didn't find a real job for another ten years, long after they had divorced. My mother rarely had work that did more than keep us fed and pay for the second-hand school books she couldn't give me from her own collection. So I live well below my means. I don't think that will ever change."
Hermione could understand that. She'd seen enough of the tabloid stories of the well off and useless. "I think that's healthy. I don't want to be a posh, pampered pet, and I don't want that for my children, either. I'm happy with being firmly middle class, no matter how much is sitting in the bank."
She thought about it. "Well, okay, I like the occasional splurge." Visions of clothing she had only looked at in the past danced in her head. "Well, maybe the not so occasional splurge." Places she had always wanted to see but had put off as too expensive came into her mind's eye. "Maybe upper middle class…"
She began to giggle. Gold spoons, leather bound books, goblin made jewels, designer shoes in every color, and world class food, all entered her mind. "Oh, to hell with it, let's move to Patagonia and live like lords!" She broke out into full laughter.
Snape sat and watched her go through this transformation. He was beginning to get a bit alarmed when she stopped laughing, took a deep breath, and said, "I'm back. Really, middle class. Way to go. I just needed to get that out of my system." One more giggle escaped. "I'll get used to the idea of having real money at some point. Oh, it's probably not a good idea to let my parents know you're more than comfortable. My mom will start hitting you up for her charities, and I'm not saying charity is a bad thing, but she's got a new one each week, and some sound pretty dodgy."
"Are there good causes especially dear to your heart?"
"Several, but most are in the muggle world, organizations that give micro-loans, and one that works on fighting malaria. In our world, I give to St. Mungo's and the Hogwarts Orphan Fund. How about you?"
"I'm not sure if it's mandatory, but it does seem like everyone with a bit extra gives to St. Mungo's, and I'm not an exception to that rule. Beyond that, several muggle charities of the sort that specialize in helping the laid-off find new skills and jobs. My father's life would have been better had he been able to find someone to teach him how to do something new, rather than sit about, drinking with his mates, lamenting the loss of a job that made him feel like he had some sort of value." Snape's eyes grew darker at memories of a man, now long dead, and how his whole world, tenuously held together in the first place, fell apart when his job vanished.
Hermione saw the reaction and decided to try and jolly him. "Well, my mom is the kind of person who will ask for money to Save the Spotted Whales one week, and combat Global Warming the next, and raise awareness of the plight of psoriasis among albino pygmies, the week after that."
Snape raised an eyebrow. "What is a Spotted Whale?"
"That would be my point about some of her charities seeming a bit dodgy. Likewise, I'm not sure albino pygmies have a problem with psoriasis."
"But if your mother has anything to do with it, we will soon know."
"Exactly. We've done money, so I guess that leaves politics and faith. Which do you want to tackle next?" She added sugar and cream to her coffee and sipped it while he responded.
"Politics?"
"Suits."
"I don't really follow muggle politics, beyond the occasional casual glance at the tabloids during my grocery runs."
"If only I could be so lucky. My parents are somewhere between hard line Labour and Greens. The sort who think Maggie Thatcher is evil and Blair a traitor to the cause."
Snape winced and then said, "Maggie didn't win any popularity contest down around Spinner's End. You didn't have to follow Muggle politics to know that. How about our world: Modern or Merlinist?"
"Modern."
He looked surprised. "I would have pegged you for a Merlinist."
"Because I helped Harry overthrow Voldemort?"
"Well, yes. That and your worshipful attitude about Dumbledore."
"Until the last year of the war, I was a Merlinist, but after too much Dumbledore I became a Modern. That last year destroyed the Church of Saint Albus for all of us on the Horcrux hunt. Do I take it you're a Modern?"
"Yes, yes, yes, I got to spend too much time with our last Merlin and his dark mirror Mordred, to ever want one man running things behind the scene. Not that I'm saying I love the Ministry, I don't, but…"
"Yeah, but… No telling who the next Chosen One might be, and if he/she'd be any good at it. It's funny; before that last year, we were all convinced that the Ministry was run by a bunch of morons. Then I finally got to see what Dumbledore's real plan was, and hell, it wasn't much better. The choice of 'pretend there's no problem' and 'let a bunch of seventeen-year-olds fix it' isn't much of a choice. At least the Ministry decided to change course and try something new.
"It was quite a shock that last year to find out that Dumbledore had been playing his cards so close to the vest that we didn't even know what game he was playing. We all assumed there was a plan, that Harry just hadn't told us yet, but as soon as we were on our way… But no. The whole plan was, 'Go find the Horcruxes, good luck!'"
Severus took a sip of his coffee. "I didn't learn about the Horcruxes until I was in Azkaban awaiting trial. They let me read the Prophet, and that's where I found out about them. If I had known what needed to be done, I certainly wouldn't have stood there and let Nagini bite me. I'm sure I could have gotten the location of the cup out of Narcissa or Bellatrix if I had known. But no, my job was to keep Hogwarts safe, something Minerva could have done better, and let you three go and flounder about in the woods looking for Horcruxes."
"You got us the sword."
He shrugged. "I know that helped you, but Dumbledore could have gotten you the sword at any time. He could have had it safe at Grimmauld Place, waiting for you, long before he died." They sat quietly thinking about that horrible year. Hermione decided to change the subject.
"So, that leaves religion."
"Agnostic leaning towards athiest. I'm not convinced God doesn't exist, but I'm pretty sure of it."
"Ethical Monotheist."
He gave her a curious look. "I haven't heard of that one before."
"Most people haven't. I believe in the God of the Old Testament."
"You're Jewish?"
"Kind of. I like their theology, and system of laws and, and understanding of the role of man and the divine, and the nature of sin and forgiveness. But since I was never Jewish, I'm not required to keep Kosher, or take Friday nights off, or the like. I used to debate converting, but I came to the conclusion that I could be an excellent Ethical Monotheist, or a mediocre Jew. And, as you know, I try very hard not to be mediocre."
"I do know that. So is there anything special that goes with Ethical Monotheism?"
"Like church attendance or holidays? No."
"How did you find this path?"
"After wandless magic, I was still looking for something. So I spent a good deal of time in philosophy, but that didn't do much for me, and from there to religion. I started with Christianity, because that's how I was raised, but the main tenant of Christian faith is forgiveness, and I just don't have it in me to forgive Voldemort or Bellatrix. One day I was in a bookstore and found what looked like the answer: Why Do Bad Things Happen To Good People. It wasn't the answer, but it led me to some new questions, and some new writers. Five years later, I'm an Ethical Monotheist. I've got a shelf devoted to the books I thought were most useful upstairs."
They were both quiet, munching the last of the breakfast pastries.
After swallowing her bite Hermione said, "So, I guess this is the part where we'd normally talk about kids."
"Normally, I'm not really a kid person."
She pressed her hand against her chest. "No! I'm shocked."
His grin was sharp. And then faded into an earnestness she hadn't seen from him before. "I know I'm not the one who will bear most of the cost of having a kid. If you want to leave for a while, put them off, I'll go with you. If you want to start off married life pregnant, I'll stop taking my potion."
"Which wouldn't do much because I'll still be taking mine. I'm not sure how soon I want them, but I do know the answer is a resounding, 'Not yet!'"
"We have until October 2005 to figure it out. No real rush." He took her hand in his and looked into her eyes. "Shall we marry, then?"
"Yes, I think we shall."
He smiled broadly. "Care to seal the deal?"
A/N: Chapter 36: In Which We Seal the Deal is located in A Proper Romance The M Chapters.