A/N: I do not own these characters and I am

Chapter 4: The Kill

"I just think, I mean, you aren't happy and um, maybe we should try a therapist again?" Ron's words brought her from her fantasy, reliving every imaginative moment while in India. It wasn't exactly a bad prospect, she did seem a shell of her former self and she wanted desperately to do anything to show she'd tried; she didn't fail at anything.

"I think we should. I'm sorry I didn't tell you more about things before I went to India, I don't know why it all suddenly started bothering me again." Unabashedly, Hermione refused to lie to Ron again, even a lie of omission. If therapy brought up her time in India, she would tell Ron what happened with Snape, her visions, everything.

"I love you, you know. We work a lot, too much, but I love you." He pulled her into an embrace reminiscent of their first year of marriage when just being in his arms meant safety and comfort, she didn't feel that way any longer. But in that moment, she soaked it all up like a tea biscuit and allowed the sugary goodness to envelop every part of her in sweetness. Even though she felt nostalgic, she could feel the tether between them lessening, being torn as though the knots of their children, their home, and their past weren't strong enough to hold any longer.

Being a good wife, a doting mother, and an exemplary employee of the Ministry, though, wore thin. Perhaps she had never been cut out for those roles, certainly not as the type of wife Ron had become accustomed to. Her daily work now revolved around fantasies in her brain of leaving Ron and moving to another country and being a writer…maybe even living in a commune with other writers who wanted to discuss great works and learn. But the reality of her life sat on her shoulder like a dark cloud and no stunning rays of sun seemed to break through. She resolved once more to be forward with Ron, to explain that she was unhappy, but before she could put action behind her words, Ron was sent to Bulgaria to track down stolen Ministry artifacts, her ambition died as quickly as it had risen. Their first therapy session was missed while Ron was in Bulgaria, but Hermione went without him and at least met their healer. They talked about how long she'd worked at the Ministry, how long they'd been married, and what her hopes were for therapy and before she could even think, she just said, "I want to love my husband as more than someone who survived disturbing times with me, who gave me two children, who was my best friend since eleven." No hint of emotion, nothing written,Healer Marcia just nodded and thanked her for coming. Once she left the office, Hermione felt a significant release in the pressure on her shoulders, even just saying the words freed her completely.

Hermione did not see Snape again, at least in corporeal form, for three months, but she thought about him daily, more than anyone else. They'd worked together for so long, she was his former student- there had never been any feeling for him aside from annoyance and anger, then sadness and relief. As logical as she normally was, Hermione couldn't decide whether the odd feelings she was having for her former professor and colleague were from her unhappiness with Ron or were motivated by a real passion for him, this dichotomy of a man. Deep in her heart, she knew that she'd harbored feelings for Snape, even if it had never been verbalized, for years. Admiration came first and then constancy.

That night, returning home to darkness as Ron was still in Bulgaria, Hermione cast a few protection enchantments and made some tea before snuggling up with reports from the field. Seamus' reports were always so dry, she made it through them in no time…but Snape's were always verbose, every detail from every scouting event, as though one missed detail would lead to the capture of all known former Death Eaters or neo-Death Eaters. At least in thoroughness, she knew Snape was doing his job even when she wasn't there, unlike Seamus and Todd who often drank too much or spent petty cash like it was a holiday. Empathy then took over; everyday was the same for that task force, waiting and watching for someone that might or might not be dead. Why was Snape still doing this, after all these years? Wasn't he tired of spying, of waiting for the next shoe to fall? At some point in her thoughts, an owl dropped a new series of coded messages, but she let them sit until the morning because her Friday night had already been hijacked by enough paperwork.

As the sun rose the next morning, several more letters had arrived during her slumber and one bright red howler. Anxiety enveloped her, worrying about all the things that could possibly be in turmoil. She read each letter, decoding Snape's particular brand of punishment with each line- his codex took months to memorize. Each letter said the same thing, with more and more erratic writing. She had failed him; Todd was dead. The howler screeched as soon as she opened it…why hadn't they alerted the Ministry? Why hadn't anyone known Todd was missing, little alone dead? As the howler burned, Snape's deep voice fading slowly from her ears, she felt the distinct thud of an apparition outside her door and knew immediately Snape and Seamus had arrived.

"You didn't think to send more than a letter, something so innocuous that I wouldn't suspect urgency? How long was he gone? What the hell happened, Severus?" She yelled, opening the door. Snape and Seamus snapped their heads toward her, their faces singed from fire and bruised. Before another word was exchanged, she remembered their code questions.

"Which spell was used against Draco Malfoy during 6th year?" Seamus whispered, sectumsempra. "What did Dumbledore see in the mirror of Erised?" She demanded of Snape, he showed her his socks, then walked through the door, collapsing on her couch as soon as he felt the freedom of no longer being on mission.

"Does anyone at the ministry know?" Her words played notes of despair, denying that Todd Vance was really gone. They both nodded their heads, no one had been alerted.

"We have protocol…why…" But she was cut off by both of their angered faces.

"This was not a dangerous mission, but obviously we must now assume that the situation is dire, Granger. It was Dolohov, he knew we'd discovered some artifacts he was attempting to sell in Romania, but we didn't think he was hostile." Snape cast a cleansing spell on Hermione's couch and then walked to the kitchen for tea, making himself quite at home.

"So, correct if I am wrong but, if this was not supposed to be a hostile mission, why is Todd Vance dead?"

"Obviously, it became hostile." Snape sneered, handing both of them a cup of tea.

"Todd went into Fleetwood and Jones to buy some the items Dolohov sold, but I guess Fleetwood was under the imperius curse, he alerted Dolohov who killed Todd before he could even take the steps to leave. We stunned him and Fleetwood; they're in the cave at the terminal, your husband and Potter are standing by." Swallowing the last of his tea, Seamus wiped his mouth with his sleeve and nodded to Snape, who looked as annoyed as she'd ever seen him. Somehow Todd's death was her fault, even though she hadn't been there nor would answering their letters have saved him. She admitted to herself that she should've read their letters immediately, her lapse in judgment was noted, but she refused to take the sole blame for the entire event.

"Did you even read the post? Or were your magazines more important?" She didn't even look at him as he said it, as though somehow he'd forgotten everything about her. Instead, she closed her eyes and thought about her time in India, her dreams of a different life, her complete freedom, and tried to remember that Snape was enduring another loss during his watch.

"Point blank, the protocol was not followed. I will go to Romania and bring them here. Alert the Vance family before noon and report to Shacklebolt. Then, I want you both to take a leave of absence, standard 3 weeks with pay. Report to me on Monday, the 30th." She only opened her eyes when she heard Seamus exhale, like he'd been worried she was sending them back to Romania. Snape did nothing, only met her eyes briefly and she felt the immediate attempted intrusion of his legilimency, but years of working with him had strengthened her own blocking skills. Instead, she sent him an image of a door slamming and watched as his attempt failed.

"I'm going- thanks Granger." She nodded to Seamus, her mind racing over all the paperwork, the bureaucratic mess this would make for their department, and what she should've done. As he disapparated, she locked eyes with Snape again, though only momentarily. Why were Ron and Harry even available? So many things continued to swirl in her brain, but she couldn't move from her chair or even see that Snape had fallen asleep. He seemed a completely different person when asleep; the lines on his face smoothed, no furrowed brow, no hint of a scowl. Sometimes when she thought back to their first years working together, no more than ten words spoken between them on any given day, trials upon trials to make sure Snape was being entirely truthful regarding his role, even with Harry's sworn testimony over and over, they questioned him. Finally, as deputy head of the Magical Misuse department, she told them he would be employed in the line of work he was used to and they stopped their investigations, though timidly. People rarely took their jobs seriously, thinking that all the bad has gone out of the wizarding world, but it simply wasn't the case. Evil endured and there was always someone to investigate or an item to destroy. It tooks years, but eventually his tough exterior broke down, letting her see a side he'd really only shown to Dumbledore and Lily Potter, but he still kept a facade and she wondered if he would ever feel comfortable in his role in life. It was one thing to continue a line of work one felt comfortable doing and another thing entirely to feel fulfillment and satisfaction. She covered him in a blanket, wondering how long it had been since he had a decent night's sleep, and noticed he'd cut his hair, she'd never seen him with short hair before. Going upstairs for a shower, she berated herself for allowing the fantasy of a different life erode her professionalism, allowing her own problems to overshadow the job she was sworn to do. Even if she felt her first happiness in years while in silence and seclusion in India, traipsing about the world in dreams with Snape, she knew that that life was not real and allowing herself to dwell on those dreams would only bring her sorrow.

Before getting in the shower, she sent Ron and Harry a quick note using the beautiful tawny owl Ron had given her for their anniversary, and then one to the Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt, making sure he was aware of the loss of Todd Vance and the two stunned men in the Romanian terminal. She awaited a terse reply as she washed her hair, ready to get the day over with, having to see Ron while she was still angry he hadn't come to their first therapy appointment and Harry, who would see through any veneer she presented.

Finally ready, she left Snape a note to make himself at home and stay if he'd like, she'd be home as soon as everything was settled, leaving directions for heating the lasagna she'd made the day before, but he knew his way around the kitchen pretty well. She gave him one last once-over and wanted so suddenly to kiss him, to hug him, to feel the warmth and protection she'd felt in India, but she walked away before she made a fool of herself, remembering she was leaving directly to see her husband, turning the wedding band over and over, she walked out of the house, casting protection charms so he could have uninterrupted sleep. How suddenly had those latent feelings bubbled to the surface.