Hi folks – my apologies for the delay in uploading this chapter. Life got in the way and a horrible virus infected me for most of the week. I also wanted to do justice to this chapter because I think it symbolises quite a turning point for Hermione, so I spent a bit more time editing it.
But anyway, enough chatter - hope you all enjoy this update!
Once again, many thanks to everyone who left a review. It is very much appreciated.
Disclaimer: No I do not own Harry Potter.
Rating/warnings: Please note the rating. This story is rated M for language and sexual content. There are also mentions of violence.
Chapter 5: Curses, chocolate, and curry-flavoured chips
Hermione groaned and rubbed her back for what felt like the tenth time that day. No matter the number of Softening Charms she placed on her piece of shite office chair, it seemed to her that it would never be comfortable. She wanted to get up and get a cup of tea, but that would mean leaving the reports that she had been reading… and she had so many to get through.
At least soon she would be leaving to meet Harry to talk to him about their case. Her case. Snape's case. Whatever.
Since that evening that Snape had Floo-ed unexpectedly to her flat, resulting in probably the most complete mortification that Hermione had felt ever since Malfoy hexed her teeth when she was a teenager, she had been unable to shift the Potions Master from her thoughts. Part of her was exceptionally embarrassed that he had seen her in such a state, yet another part was strangely… pleased? The memory of his intense gaze directed at her, not with anger or scorn, but with something akin to admiration – well, it made her shift uncomfortably in her seat.
Not for the first time, she scolded herself for being so ridiculous. This was Severus Snape she was thinking about – her former Professor, master spy, Witch's Weekly's eligible wizard of the month – not a man to take home to have her way with for a night.
Not that she was his type anyway.
Shut up, brain.
With a sigh that was probably too loud for the close confines of the MLE office, Hermione rose to her feet with her wand clenched in her hand. Tea. She needed tea. Perhaps she would even Transfigure it into something a little stronger. But not too strong. She was meeting Harry and he would probably disapprove of her being tipsy at work.
Just as she had made up her mind to take a break, a Charmed paper aeroplane flew in her direction, unfolding neatly as it reached her desk. Hermione snatched it up as soon as she recognised the scribble at the top of the note, spelling her name. That spiky, cramped scrawl she would recognise anywhere…
Miss Granger – I have located the residence. Apparate to the Leaky Cauldron at your earliest convenience. I will await you outside. Your servant, SS.
Hermione almost jumped in excitement. Finally! This was it – the lead they were waiting for. She patted her hands through her hair to locate any errant quills (locating two) and scribbled a hasty note to Harry – Something's come up, meet you at the Leaky when you're done with work? Love, Hermione – before grabbing her cloak and bag and power-walking to the Ministry's Apparition point.
On the way she passed Ernie, but was so focussed on her task that she didn't notice him or his terrified gulp as she walked by.
Hermione took a deep breath as she reached her destination. There was a strange aura about Diagon Alley that just smelt like magic. Probably it was only noticeable to her because she was Muggle-born. Wizards and witches who walked past here every day of their lives probably would think her ridiculous. Although it was only early evening in summer, grey clouds had gathered overhead, giving the streets a dull ambience. Craning her head to see past the crowds, Hermione caught a glimpse of a tall figure wearing a dark-hooded cloak lingering outside the Leaky Cauldron.
She weaved through the bustling crowd to the man she was meeting. When he spotted her moving towards him, Snape lowered his hood, nodding at her in greeting.
"I knew you would come immediately." His deep voice warmed her to her toes. Hermione chided herself. Honestly, she was too old for this type of behaviour.
"I knew I could count on you to find what we needed." Hermione grinned at him, before frowning slightly as she noticed passers-by slow down to stare at Snape. Growling under her breath, she almost pulled out her wand as one of the passing witches shot Snape a venomous glare.
"Miss Granger." Snape had bent over to speak lowly in her ear, and Hermione felt a jolt of awareness run through her body that would have embarrassed her had she not been so surprised. "Let it go."
"She doesn't know you at all, and yet she…" Hermione whispered back through gritted teeth.
"We do not know her either. It is likely that she lost loved ones in the War, possibly at the hands of Death Eaters. Do not let her animosity concern you." Hermione felt long fingers grip her elbow and she allowed herself to be led away from the Wizarding pub. "Stay close to me. We are about to head into… unsavoury territory."
Hermione held her wand close as Snape turned to enter Knockturn Alley. The smell was the first thing that hit her – if Diagon Alley smelt of magic, it did so in a way that made Hermione think of Charmed fairy lights and Butterbeer and the sharpness of a well-brewed potion; but Knockturn Alley smelt strangely foul. She couldn't pinpoint exactly what it reminded her of, but she could almost taste the faint tang of Dark Magic on her tongue.
Hermione hadn't entered Knockturn Alley in years. In all her time with the MLE, she had never had to. She had the suspicion that Harwood (or someone more senior, like Kingsley Shacklebolt, perhaps) had given an order to prevent Muggle-born wizards and witches like Hermione from being assigned cases that would involve a foray into these parts.
Curiously there seemed to be fewer people milling around Knockturn Alley than Hermione had seen in the not-too-far-away Diagon Alley. Interestingly, none of them were staring at Snape. They seemed keen to appear uninterested in their surroundings, heads down, cloaks up, feet shuffling quickly through the streets. At the entrance to yet another of the seemingly indistinguishable alleyways, Snape turned and looked intently at Hermione. In the dim light of the day, his dark eyes seemed more inscrutable than ever.
"This is the place." He paused, as if deciding on the correct words to say. "Miss Granger, there is a high chance that there is very Dark Magic in this house. As you are Muggle-born, it is likely that it will react unfavourably towards you. I am well aware of your capabilities as a witch, but in this situation I believe I am the expert."
"Don't worry. I will follow your lead." Hermione said, hoping that she didn't sound as nervous as she felt.
Snape nodded once and slipped into the alleyway with his usual grace. Hermione followed, taking a backwards glance to ensure that nobody was following them.
Snape was bent in front of a nondescript door, muttering incantations under her breath. Although he spoke in a low tone, Hermione could make out some of what he was saying and unsurprisingly, it was no incantation that she had ever learnt. She waited for him to finish, nervously tapping her wand against her hip. Snape hadn't had to say that he was the expert at Dark Magic – she knew it well, and was comforted by his presence. If she had been with one of the other MLE officers, or even one of the younger Aurors, Hermione was sure that she would have felt much more anxious.
After all, this was Severus Snape. He had jumped into the dragon's den at the age of sixteen and lived to tell the tale, scars and all.
The door clicked open and Hermione braced herself, gripping her wand tightly. She stepped up to stand beside Snape and nodded at him in acknowledgement. Before they could enter, Snape pressed his fingers against her arm with gentle pressure and spoke in a low tone. "It might be prudent for me to walk ahead, Miss Granger. And… do not touch anything."
"I won't." Hermione whispered back.
"Lumos." Snape muttered the incantation and held out his wand. The light revealed a small Wizarding apartment, neat and seemingly empty. It was dark – the windows were closed and shuttered, and it smelt dank, as if the place hadn't been opened in days. There appeared to be a layer of dust on all of the furniture, suggesting that no one had disturbed anything since Nott last left his home some days ago.
Cautiously, Hermione murmured a spell to detect magical signatures. The end of her wand flared gently and two small pin-pricks of light appeared for a moment before disappearing. Only two magical signatures, then – hers and Snape's – as expected. She released a relieved breath, whispering a quick Lumos before following Snape into the room.
Everything appeared perfectly ordinary: Nott's flat looked like a typical apartment of a single male wizard. A few knick-knacks were lying around, discarded travelling gear hanging over the end of the sofa, and the Prophet from the day before his death open to the Quidditch news on the coffee table. Snape moved towards a cabinet in the corner of the sitting room. It had a lockable door and there were a number of curious-looking antiques inside that were on display. Doubtless they were all infused with Dark Magic.
Leaving Snape to study the contents of the cabinet, Hermione walked over to the coffee table to more closely inspect the newspaper article that Nott had been reading. As she moved forward, a flash of silver under the table caught her eye. Aha! Bending over, Hermione moved her lit wand-tip closer to the floor, squinting to get a better look. Pressing her fingers to the floor, she crouched to stick her head under the table.
As soon as her skin made contact with the wooden floor, an icy sensation gripped her and Hermione gasped, unable to draw in the breath to scream. Cold filled her senses, frost swimming through her blood to the tips of her toes. Distantly, she felt herself drop her wand. Stumbling to the ground, she struggled to remain conscious, trying to gasp for breath, trying to call out to Snape. Her voice failed her as the room spun and suddenly, suddenly...
Suddenly she was at Hogwarts again, the hallways filled with screams and cries of pain, shouts of anger, flashes of angry-coloured light. She dodged a curse as she ran, screaming for Harry, screaming for Ron, casting a hurried hex at a Death Eater rushing towards her. The masked witch or wizard stumbled and fell, almost catching Hermione's ankle as she rushed past. Her curly hair had escaped from its confines and was now tumbling wildly down her shoulders, flying over her face, plastered stickily to her forehead with sweat. She was sobbing, terror gripping her as she ran past huddled figures, some weeping for death, crying out for help, children calling out for their parents, and some… cold and stiff, eyes still open, the last rictus of terror still on their faces.
The scene changed…
Bill and Fleur's wedding, joy and happiness destroyed suddenly as dark-robed figures cascaded towards the revellers. Screams, shouts of horror as the atmosphere changed in an instant. Hermione cried out to her friends as they clung to each other, closing her eyes as they Apparated away… leaving their loved ones behind… leaving them to possible torture and death… the Dark Mark ominous in the sky…
She was crying, screaming, praying for her friends to be safe…
And then she was whirling through another memory. The Forest of Dean. Cold, wet and hungry, and worst of all, always afraid. Afraid of the shadows… the possibility of being followed… the fear that they would lose each other to distrust and grief and terror. Sobbing as all hope seemed lost, as the quest they had set upon seemed too great for the likes of them… children, just children, really. Lost, terrified, angry…
Holding her breath…
Her hand over the mouth to muffle her whimpers of fear, hiding with Harry and Ron, their mingled breaths filled with horror as they heard the rasping, sibilant voice of the Dark Lord. They were so close… so close to the one who had killed so many. An inhuman voice filled with so much evil. And then, another voice, speaking in an acquiescent tone, a deep baritone, softened with suppressed fear… And then, then… the hiss of a snake… the same deep voice shouting in terror and pain… Hermione biting down on her fist to stop herself from screaming… A dark figure on the ground, lying in a pool of blood, so much blood…
All she could feel was despair, terror, helplessness.
"Miss Granger!"
Hermione found her voice suddenly and she fell forward with a choked scream. Bile rose to her throat but she didn't have anything in her stomach to throw up. She dry heaved uselessly as she fought to catch her breath. Hermione barely noticed as gentle fingers gripped her arms and lifted her from the ground. She shook uncontrollably from head to toe. Her face felt wet with tears and she couldn't speak, almost couldn't breathe. All she could produce were small whimpers, panicked sounds as her fingers wandered desperately for the comfort of her wand.
"Miss Granger…" Some detached part of her realised where she was. Nott's apartment. Dark Magic. Snape. "Hermione, calm down." She felt herself pulled backwards into a warm chest, strong arms wrapped around her trembling body. She barely felt slim fingers tuck her wand into the pocket of her robes. "Hermione… You are alright. Everything is fine. It is over now. I am so sorry… the floor, I hadn't realised…"
"Snape!" She choked out, twisting around to press herself against his warmth. At first he stiffened with surprise, but then quickly relaxed as he brushed her hair out of her face with a pale long-fingered hand. Hermione buried her face in the smooth silk of his waistcoat, clutching desperately to any part of him she could reach. His torso was lean and narrow, and he was warm and there and alive. "You're not dead. You're not dead…"
Hermione dissolved into sobs again as, against her will, memories of that dreadful night resurfaced in her mind. Snape lying in a pool of his own blood, his hand pressed to his neck in an attempt to stay conscious, his dark eyes filled with pain as he saw them standing close to him…
"Shh." Snape soothed, wrapping his arms around her, bending his head to whisper gently into her ear. "I am here."
"You're not dead." Hermione repeated like a mantra, holding him close. Gods. She breathed in deeply, trying to slow her frantic sobs. What would the world be like without him? With her breath she took in the scent of him – a distinct male smell overlaid with the fragrance of herbs, smoke from a simmering cauldron, the pressed silk of his clothing – and underneath all that, a comforting scent that she had never noticed before. Had he always smelt like this?
"No. I am not dead." Snape's normally velvety timbre hesitated over the words. "I am here."
Hermione pulled back to look at his face. She was still half-bent over the floor, Snape kneeling over her, his steady arms keeping her body upright. With him being so much taller than her, Hermione had to tilt her chin to look at him. His eyes were dark and indecipherable in the dim light of the room, but she heard his breath hitch as she lifted a hand to touch his face. His skin was unexpectedly soft. For an infinitesimal moment, their eyes locked, and then he sighed softly as his eyes fluttered shut and he leaned his cheek into her palm.
"You're not dead." She whispered again, rubbing her thumb against his skin in a caress.
Snape didn't answer, but his eyes snapped open and focussed on her with such intensity that gooseflesh erupted over her skin. Hermione held her breath as their gazes met once again. Without being aware of it, she had pulled herself even closer, and from this angle she could see straight into his eyes. Snape's eyes were so dark that she needed to be closer still, to look right into the blackness of his gaze, into the depths of his very soul. As she stared at him, Hermione thanked whatever deity had saved Snape from death and given her the chance to see the man that had finally been allowed to emerge from behind the angry, scowling façade. Once again, she wondered- What would the world have been like without him?
Her hand that had been on his cheek shifted to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to her. The distance between them closed until Hermione could feel his breath on her cheek. She heard him whisper her name reverently as her eyelids fluttered shut …
A loud bang made her jump nearly out of her skin and in a flash she felt herself pushed sharply backwards as Snape rose to his feet, drawing himself to his full height, wand raised. Hermione couldn't help but stare at him in awe. In some corner of her mind, she thought that he looked incredibly powerful, as though he could take on the world.
"Stay where you are!" In the dimness, she could barely make out a shadowy figure standing in the doorway, flicking his wand in a practised motion as the room suddenly filled with light.
Hermione scrambled to her feet. To her surprise, her legs were still shaking and she had to grab onto Snape's arm for support. She would recognise that voice anywhere, calm and strong. She would have known him before the light illuminated his features – the messy dark hair, slightly crooked glasses, bright green eyes…
"Harry!" To her shame, Hermione almost burst into sobs again. "Oh, Harry!"
"Snape! Hermione!" Harry stared at her for a moment, mouth agape, before rushing forward and grabbing her hands. "Oh gods, what happened to you? You're shaking!"
His hands hovered over her as he frantically checked for injuries. Harry began muttering the incantation for a diagnostic charm as Hermione squeezed his arms tightly, trying to convince herself that he was really here.
"Potter." A deep voice called both of them back to the present and they turned to look at Snape, Hermione with a look of abject relief, and Harry with an astonished expression. "Calm yourself, she will be fine."
"What happened?" Harry put his arm around Hermione and gave her a small squeeze before giving Snape his full attention.
"There is a curse that covers every surface of this house. She only needed to touch something with bare skin to be affected – I am afraid that I was not aware enough to warn her against pressing her fingers against the floor. There are… strong wards here that are now disabled. I believe they are particularly severe against… Muggle-borns. Forgive me, Miss Granger. I should have been more careful." Snape's inky black eyes met Hermione's once more and despite the steadiness of his voice and manner, she thought she saw a suppressed current of self-recrimination on his face.
"It's not your fault. I didn't think that don't touch anything extended to the floor either. I feel… better now." Hermione smiled at Snape in a way she hoped appeared believable. She was still trembling slightly. The curse had been terrible, sucking the happiness from her like a leech, making her relive several of her worst memories in just a few moments. She took deep breaths in an effort to regain control of her senses.
"Hardly, Miss Granger, you are still shaking like a leaf. You need chocolate." At his former students' enquiring glances, Snape continued. "I believe the curse is meant to recapitulate the emotions one feels when in the presence of Dementors, perhaps at even greater severity. It is likely that the proven therapy for being in the company of a Dementor will also work in this case."
"There's a chocolate shop nearby – let me just send a Patronus to the Ministry to let them know that they need to secure this place – and then I'll get some for you, Hermione." Harry conjured his Patronus with ease and Hermione watched the silvery stag leap out the door towards its goal. "We have a… tracking system for Dark Magic at the Auror's department. It's still being worked on, as in, it's not perfect – so when it went off just before I found you, a message went out to all Aurors to see if anyone could check it out. I was the closest since I got your note to meet you at the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione… so here I am."
"The wards at the door… you disabled them, Potter?" Snape was looking at Harry with a gleam in his eye that reminded the two younger people uncomfortably of Potions class.
"Yes I did." At Snape's raised eyebrow, Harry grinned. "I did learn something that Auror training, you know, Professor."
"I am impressed. Those were very sophisticated wards." To Hermione's relief, the praise sounded genuine and not grudging as she might have expected from Snape to Harry.
She rubbed her hands against her robes. They still felt sticky with sweat. A strange thought flashed through her mind that with these fingers she had touched Snape's face. Where had that insane action come from? Why had she reached out and touched him? Snape had always seemed so… aloof? Distant? Indifferent? No, those words were too mild to describe him. He had always seemed to rebuff physical contact from those around him. So what had happened in that intimate moment?
What had she been expecting? Had she wanted to him to kiss her? Had she wanted to kiss him?
Hermione was rescued from the uncomfortable direction of her thoughts as they heard the 'pop' of Apparition signal the arrival of more Wizarding folk to their location. A heavyset young man and a trim woman dressed in Auror robes entered the doorway cautiously. They noticed Harry first and tipped their heads to him in greeting, but then, looking beyond their colleague, they started when they saw who he had for company.
"Professor Snape!"
"Good evening… Mr Nicholas and Miss… Benworth?" Snape looked appraisingly at the two newly arrived Aurors. Of course, they would have to have been his students at Hogwarts, Hermione thought. Potions is a requirement for Auror training, after all.
Harry rolled his eyes as his colleagues continued to ogle at Snape and do little else. "Nicholas, Benworth – this flat is covered in wards infused with Dark Magic. Please search the area and retrieve any suspicious items to the Ministry."
"Oh, and please send any information to Hermione Granger at the MLE." Hermione said, trying to smile at the Aurors. As much as she would have liked to hide it, she still felt incredibly drained after her experience with the Dark curse. "We have an active investigation open that involves the… ah- former owner of this place."
"Will do, Miss Granger." Auror Benworth answered. Although Hermione knew that it was relatively unnecessary to introduce herself to people at the Ministry – everyone knew who she was from her friendship with Harry Potter and her role in the Second Wizarding War – it seemed rather too arrogant to continuously make that assumption. Anyway, it was only polite to introduce herself to Harry's colleagues.
As they left the Aurors to their work – her best friend leading with his hand on her elbow, Snape walking behind them - Harry asked. "I assume the reason you're both here has something to do with what you wanted to discuss, Hermione?"
"Yes. We should talk somewhere." She nodded. The outside air felt far cooler than she remembered from not so much earlier. Perhaps it was just her shaky nerves.
"You said you wanted to go to the Leaky?"
"No." Hermione said shortly, remembering the woman who had glared at Snape earlier. She winced apologetically at Harry for her abrupt tone. "I mean, yes I did want to go there earlier. But we can't go there with… Mr Snape. People stare at him."
The man in question looked at Hermione with a guarded expression. "I can leave, Miss Granger, once we have seen to your condition."
"No, please. You don't have to go." She implored. Hermione felt touched that he hadn't wanted to leave until he was sure she was well.
"Very well." Snape said. The pleased expression on his face made Harry pause and raise his eyebrows, surreptitiously glancing between his two unlikely companions.
Neither of them noticed his slightly open mouth or thoughtful expression.
They chose to seat themselves in a Muggle restaurant that served fish and chips, sneaking a large bar of chocolate in with them. Hermione had eaten a good few pieces already, and gods she felt much better. The moment the first bit of chocolate had melted on her tongue, she had felt infinitely improved. The feeling of cold and the lingering nausea had dissipated. She nibbled some more on the sweet treat and sighed with contentment. Being the daughter of two dentists, she had hardly been allowed sweets as a child, and as an adult she had continued the habit of only rarely delving into sugary treats. Even so, the very occasional chocolate indulgence never failed to hit the spot. Especially now.
Harry was seated opposite her, pinching the bridge of his nose, glasses askew. After listening to Hermione explain the details of their very puzzling investigation, his face had taken on a look of resignation that eventually culminated in his current position of attempting to squeeze more inspiration from his nose into his brain. The Aurors had worked tremendously hard over the past few years to stamp out of Voldemort's remaining followers – just because the Dark Lord was dead did not mean that those who supported him had stopped attempting to spread his vile beliefs – but no matter how hard they tried, there always seemed to be an unending tide of wizards and witches who thought Pure-bloods to be above all others. And some of them were not afraid to use Unforgiveable curses to prove their point. Fortunately the 'unending tide' had slowed to 'almost a trickle', but the Aurors were far from out of business.
Hermione glanced at Snape, who was seated to her left in the small booth the three of them shared, trying to guess what he was thinking. He had spoken very little during her explanations to Harry, only saying something when she prompted him for information. Hermione felt a little bad making Snape spend time with Harry… given their history, but he hadn't seemed to mind. When she looked up at Snape she saw him intently watching her eat her chocolate. She angled the remainder of the block at Snape, making a suggestive tilt of the foil-wrapped goodness whilst trying not to blush. Snape smiled with his eyes, crinkling the skin at the corners, and shook his head, going back to his meal. Hermione felt embarrassed suddenly. She had eaten almost half the block of chocolate whilst speaking to Harry, and hadn't thought to offer either of her companions a single piece.
Damn Snape's self-control, Hermione caught herself thinking.
"Alright, I think… I need to think about this." Harry finally stopped pressing his fingers to his face and looked at Hermione and Snape with bleary eyes.
"How very articulate, Mr Potter." Harry and Hermione glanced at their former Professor, expecting to see his trademark sneer. Needless to say, they were both rather surprised to see that although he was not outwardly smiling, there was a glint of good-humour on his face.
Before Harry could respond, his Wizarding timepiece made a soft chiming noise and he glanced down at it, grimacing slightly. "That's my cue to go relieve Ginny from parenting duty. Hermione – I'll get Nicholas and Benworth to forward you anything important from the flat. If there's anything that even suggests that Nott's death could be linked to these mysterious potions orders, then you'll know about it as soon as I do." Rising from his seat, Harry gave his friend a small squeeze on the arm and a wink. "If you're feeling unwell tonight, Hermione, please don't hesitate to send a Patronus to Ginny or I, and don't worry about disturbing us. We're parents of a three month-old infant – I think we've forgotten what sleep even means."
Hermione nodded gratefully and gave Harry a chocolatey kiss on the cheek goodbye just as Snape rose with a quick nod in his direction. She half-expected them to shake hands, but Harry just grinned and nodded in response. Perhaps physical contact between these two was just too much to hope for. "Hermione, Professor Snape, good evening to you both." With a grin, the Boy-Who-Lived nudged his way through the crowd of diners and into the night. Hermione followed his departing figure with a fond smile on her face.
"Are you feeling improved, Miss Granger?" Snape questioned, after a brief silence.
"Yes, much, thank you." Hermione paused, trying to choose her words carefully. "You called me Hermione earlier."
Two subtle spots of colour appeared on Snape's cheeks. His fingers twitched as though he was trying not to scratch something self-consciously. Hermione tried not to dwell on how sweet she thought it was. Professor Snape is not sweet… Professor Snape is not sweet…
Oh, fuck it all. He was.
"You were distressed. And you were not responding to 'Miss Granger'."
"That's alright. You can call me Hermione. We've known each other for… what is it… fifteen years now? Yes, that definitely gives you the right to call me by my first name."
Snape's eyes crinkled at the corners for the second time that evening. "Very well, Hermione." A pause, and then in a tone that coming from another man would be called hesitant, he continued. "Severus – you can call me Severus."
Hermione would later wonder why Harry still called him "Professor" and hadn't been corrected. But at that moment, she was too busy trying to stop the smile that was threatening to split her face in two. Gods, how old am I, fourteen?
"Do you need to retire for evening, Miss – Hermione?" Snape said, folding his napkin neatly and placing it beside his empty fish and chips tray. "The report from the Aurors should be completed promptly, if Potter has his way, and you should rest after your unfortunate encounter this evening. Experiencing Dark Magic can be rather… draining."
Hermione didn't have to ask to know that the last sentence was said out of prior knowledge. She wrapped the (embarrassingly small) remainder of her chocolate bar back into its foil packaging and slipped in into the pocket of her Muggle jeans. "If you don't mind, I'd rather sit here a little while. It's rather nice to be amongst chattering people, yourself included."
"Very well, Hermione." She thought he looked rather pleased. Curious.
Hermione sighed and poked at her remaining chips. They were starting to get a little soggy. "I am a little disappointed that we didn't get to search the apartment more, though… before I went and got myself cursed." She picked up a piece of deep fried potato and dipped it into her curry sauce, coating it generously. "But at least we know that Nott was more than capable at Dark Magic."
"Indeed." Snape – no, Severus – watched her drench her soggy potato goodness in the orange sauce with an almost morbid curiosity. "The wards at his front door alone would have made any Death Eater proud. The investigating Aurors had better be exercising extreme precautions in there – I suspect the wards are only the tip of the iceberg."
Hermione almost blinked in amazement at his casual use of a Muggle phrase, but then reminded herself who she was talking to. Sna- Severus seemed so at ease in the Wizarding world it still surprised her sometimes to remember that he was Half-blood. "They will be. Auror training is very extensive and they are constantly reminded to exercise 'constant vigilance'! MLE training is less so… but we deal with Dark Magic much, much less frequently."
"I confess that I was greatly surprised to find you working for the Ministry in a position less than Minister for Magic." Sn - Severus said, tearing his eyes from her now rather disturbingly orange batch of chips. Hermione couldn't help smiling at the compliment. "And also, given your reputation as a student, I would have thought you would have pursued something rather more… academic."
"Oh, I want to complete my Mastery at some point." Hermione said, enjoying the slightly repulsed look on Severus' face as she nibbled on her brightly-coloured food. "Potions or Charms, I think. I have a basic qualification for both subjects from an academy in Wales."
"But then why Magical Law Enforcement? Either Minerva or I would have written you a reference to apprentice anywhere you wanted to get your Mastery. You were always one of Minerva's favourites, after all. And yes, although I may have referred to you as 'an insufferable know-it-all' on occasion, coming from me that is about as complimentary as it got at the time."
Hermione couldn't help but laugh at her old title of 'know-it-all'. It seemed like almost an affectionate nickname now. "The short answer is – money. After I finished my NEWTs and went to the academy, money was rather tight, and I wanted to be able to support myself before continuing with my studies."
"Truly? Unless they short-changed you, I believe the Order of Merlin comes with rather a large sum - surely enough to have given you a comfortable, albeit simple, life should you have wished to complete your Mastery at the time." There was a ripple of confusion on her former Professor's otherwise impassive face.
"Oh, yes, the money from the Order of Merlin was certainly helpful. But there was so much happening that I spent rather a lot of it very quickly. When I brought my parents back from Australia, I used some of the money to help them set up their practice again. And then there were repairs to the Burrow that needed to be completed. And there were just… so many orphans. I just couldn't justify keeping the money when others needed it more. I still had enough to live on during my two years at the Academy and one year training with the Ministry… but I wanted a stable job first before moving on to my intellectual pursuits." Hermione paused, considering her life at the Ministry. "The truth is - I do really like my job at the MLE. Yes, it's a bit mundane sometimes, but at times it can be rather challenging, and my colleagues are mostly very lovely. Not to mention that at the time I joined the Ministry, I felt that I could have used a bit of mundanity in my life."
"That is very generous of you, Hermione." There was no sarcasm or sneering in Severus' smooth tone, only a warm quality that made her tingle to the tips of her toes. Hermione tried not to fidget at the way he said her name. Really, this was getting rather ridiculous. When had she started behaving like this?
"I know you don't really approve of personal questions…" Hermione began, suppressing a giggle as she remembered the last time she spent part of the evening with Severus Snape, questioning him about his love life. "But there's something I'm really curious about. Why did you go back to Hogwarts after leaving St Mungo's? You could have started your potions business then, but you decided to go back. Why? I thought you… wouldn't have been really happy there."
Severus fixed Hermione with an amused stare. "When I left St Mungo's, my weakened physical state meant that there were still many things that I could not do unaided. And at the time, I was certainly not without enemies despite the Dark Lord being vanquished. If I had stayed by myself at Spinner's End, I doubt I would have been able to defend myself against former Death Eaters or their disgruntled relations. Hogwarts provided an ideal safe haven for my recuperation, and when Minerva offered a post for me there… well, I could not refuse. Not to mention it was rather nice to have her as a friend again. I think she felt rather bad for how much she mistrusted me during that awful time after Albus' death when I was made Headmaster by the Dark Lord's bidding – she kept trying to hex me all year, not that I can blame her." He paused, dark eyes withdrawing as he gazed into the past. "And to be honest, I did not expect to live past the War. I had not thought to make any plans for… a future."
Hermione felt a pang in her heart as his words reverberated in her mind. When she, Harry and Ron were searching for Horcruxes in the lead-up to their inevitable confrontation with Voldemort, they had all felt the slightly detached terror looming over them that any day could be their last. But despite the numbing fear, there had always been a flicker of hope that they would have a future with their loved ones. Severus had spent almost twenty years with the terrible belief that he would die before seeing the end of the War. No wonder he had constantly appeared in a bad temper during his time at Hogwarts.
She reached over and patted his arm lightly. "I'm very grateful that you're still here with us." Hermione said, in an unconscious echo of her sentiments earlier that evening. Somehow, kind words didn't seem nearly enough to a man who had sacrificed half his life to destroy the Dark Lord. Hermione remembered the angry woman glaring at Severus earlier that evening and grimaced. She wished that everyone in Wizarding Britain could have glimpsed at the memories that Harry had seen, showing the extent of his loyalty towards their cause and the suffering he had faced almost daily as Dumbledore's spy.
"Well." Severus said, after a moment of silence. "I am surprised. I was rather horrid to you when you were my student."
Hermione laughed, the maudlin mood dissipating. "As you said, you calling me a 'know-it-all' was not particularly insulting, coming from you. And the way you took points from Gryffindor, although it upset us at the time, now seems so trivial. We were just children then, after all. And your 'Professor Snape' persona would have been a rather effective deterrent against anybody wanting to know too much about your personal life."
"Yes, it was rather easy to be left alone when one terrified most of the students and was despised by half of the staff."
"Well, I can't speak for the staff, but I'm sure your students were mostly petulant children, which would have annoyed anyone." Hermione said, grinning.
"Actually… I have always liked children. That was one of the reasons I returned to Hogwarts." Severus' eyes flickered towards her, his expression slightly embarrassed.
"What?" The exclamation came out louder than Hermione anticipated. Luckily for her, Severus had already placed a Notice-me-not Charm around their table, which muffled their conversation significantly. She clapped her hands over her mouth and glanced surreptitiously around but fortunately none of the other patrons seemed to have been disturbed.
Severus looked bemused. "Yes, that was one of my biggest untruths. Merlin forbid if any of the Death Eaters knew at the time. I think the only person who suspected was Lucius Malfoy – it must have been part of the reason he and Narcissa named me godfather to their only son."
"Gods. I confess I am rather surprised. You really seemed to dislike us at school. Although I suppose our constant delinquency made it rather easy to be disliked by a member of staff."
"Well, there was a calculated reason behind my particular asperity towards you and your favoured companions. The Dark Lord and his followers were thrilled that I had under my tutelage both the Boy-Who-Lived and the son of the two Aurors they had tortured into insanity. It was why I had to be so rotten to Longbottom, and Potter – although to be fair, it was hardly difficult to aggravate Potter given that the boy so thoroughly hated me. I had to constantly regale the Dark Lord with stories of how unpleasant I made the school days of those boys. I shudder to think what the more aggressive Death Eaters would have done to them – Neville Longbottom in particular (they were rather afraid of the Potter boy) – had I not convinced the brethren that I was already being a suitably torturous Professor."
"Oh, Neville was so terrified of you! And to think the whole time that it was to protect him… Although," Hermione continued soberly, "I suppose everything you did was designed to protect us."
"I was hardly successful. You lot got yourselves into far more trouble that I could have ever imagined. Not to mention the time in your fifth year when you almost got yourself sliced in half at the Ministry by that idiot Dolohov." Severus' face hardened at the mention of the former Death Eater, now dead for many years, killed by a stray curse at the final fight at Hogwarts.
Hermione winced. She still had the scar from that episode – a constant reminder how close she had come to death that day. It had been her first brush with battle, the night that poor Harry had lost his godfather. "Yes, we were so hopelessly unprepared for that. It seems rather mad now. All we knew were a bunch of defensive spells and we chose to fight ruthless Death Eaters who would not have hesitated to kill or torture us."
"You were all very lucky. Albus was incensed that Potter had almost gotten himself killed. It convinced him that the boy had to learn Occlumency. From his favourite Professor, no less."
They lapsed into quiet as Hermione brooded over Albus Dumbledore and how he had led the Order of the Phoenix, Severus included. A part of her missed Dumbledore terribly – how he had always seemed so wise and powerful, and yet gentle and kind and approachable. On the other hand, he had manipulated all of them with tremendous skill. She supposed that everything he had done was in order to win the War, but she wished that he could at least have been honest with them. The image of Dumbledore's broken body at the bottom of the Astronomy seared across her memory, and Hermione shuddered.
"Are you alright?" A deep voice pulled her out of her reverie. Hermione looked down and saw that Severus had covered her hands with his much larger one. Pale, fine-boned fingers rested gently on her skin, and for a mad flash of a moment, Hermione wondered what it would be like for his hands to touch her elsewhere. She shook her head to rid herself of the unsettling thought. I must be more shaken that I registered earlier…
"Just thinking… about the War. Sometimes, I wonder if I can really move on after all I've seen." Hermione was relieved that her voice emerged with its usual steady tone. Severus withdrew his hand, and it took rather more willpower than she was comfortable with not to reach out and draw him back.
"I can empathise, of course. Although… if I may, I highly recommend seeking professional help if your nightmares do not cease to haunt you."
"Professional help? Like… counselling?" Hermione's eyes were wide. Although she was somewhat familiar with Muggle psychology, she had never heard of similar principles being applied to the Wizarding population.
"Precisely. Once I could admit to myself that I could not heal properly by my own means, I visited a therapist for more than two years. The experience was… cathartic, to say the least." Severus' lips quirked upwards in a self-conscious smile.
"Wait – do you mean you saw a Muggle psychiatrist?" How would one talk about a Wizarding war with a Muggle? Do you Obliviate them after every session?
"Not quite. Dr Rosen is a Squib whose practice operates out of Muggle London."
"Oh, how fascinating! I suppose it gives them a rather unique view of things." And as an added bonus… you don't need to Obliviate them after every session.
"Indeed. Minerva introduced us. For a while I was adamant that Dr Rosen could not help at all and I was loathed to speak of experiences that I wished to forget. But as you see… I was eventually worn down. It helped tremendously to talk of all the things that I could not reveal before, to someone who could listen and occasionally comment in an objective manner. Our official sessions have ceased for some time, but now we have become something resembling friends."
"That's wonderful." It really was. Hermione beamed. So that explained that change in Severus Snape. He had counselling. Amazing. "But… still, that doesn't explain why you stayed at Hogwarts for five years. You could have gone anywhere, after your name was cleared. There aren't very many Potions Masters in Britain."
"I had… friends at Hogwarts. Minerva and Poppy Pomfrey, in particular. Even Filius started speaking to me again, after he had gotten over the fact that I had to hex him in the final battle. It was also rather relaxing, to be back in teaching. Since I no longer had to attend to two masters, I found myself having rather a lot of free time to spend on research… or to just be around people who I actually liked. Minerva and Poppy can be rather entertaining, for 'two old birds', as they call themselves." Severus smirked in a way that made her smile.
"Oh yes, I discovered not too long ago that Professor McGonagall has a rather large capacity for whiskey." Hermione almost shuddered at the memory of seeing her inebriated former Professor at a gathering some months ago. It had been fun, but awkward. Mostly awkward.
"Indeed. Minerva and Poppy used to provide drinks in the staff room in the afternoon once the last students had left for the term. I have to confess that I never stayed long – once those two started calling each other 'Minnie' and 'Pop-star', I hurried to take my leave. I would have rather been hexed than find out what awful name they had come up for me."
Hermione released a belly laugh. It felt good to laugh, after her ordeal earlier that day. Even though they still had a criminal to catch, even though nothing really made sense about her case… Well, now that they had the Auror department involved, especially Harry, Hermione felt as though there was actually a fighting chance of preventing something terrible from happening.
And curiously… part of her grudgingly acknowledged that her pleasant mood stemmed from enjoying present company. Hermione found herself more and more attached to the way Severus Snape's eyes crinkled at the sides, and how his lips quirked slightly when he smiled…
She squashed down those thoughts as abruptly as she could and sat up straighter, distracting herself with curry-covered chips. Severus looked at her oddly but said nothing, his eyes drawn to her food once again. Well, too bad for him – these are delicious and I am not sharing.
So delicious, in fact, that Hermione finished them in minutes. She stared at her empty plate mournfully. "Well. I think I had better go." She said, with a voice tinged with regret. "I have some reports to finish before I can finally call it a day, and I really ought to feed my cat."
Nodding in understanding, her companion rose and offered her his arm. For a second, Hermione thought she saw a flash of hesitation cross his features. But then she beamed and placed her hand over his dark-clothed limb, the old-fashioned way, and he returned her smile slowly. The visible warmth in his gaze made her stomach flip pleasantly.
Oh gods. I think I may be in trouble.
- The Potter residence, about 4.30 in the morning –
Ginny Potter yawned and crawled into bed next to her husband. As delightful as she found her baby boy, she did so wish that he could sleep for more than three hours at a time without needing to be fed, or rocked, or cuddled, or soothed… Fortunately he was so adorable that his parents didn't mind very much having their sleep disturbed every night. Well, mostly.
"Ginny?" Harry's voice sounded awake and thoughtful. "I was just thinking…" He trailed off as his wife made herself comfortable beside him.
"Hmm?" She cuddled next to his warmth and sighed happily as Harry wrapped his arms around her.
"Do you ever remember Professor Snape being really mean to Hermione? Like, really mean."
"Huh." Ginny frowned and scratched her head, pushing red locks out of the way sleepily. "Well, I don't really know about in class, since we didn't have Potions together… but I think he mostly just ignored her whenever she wanted to answer questions, which isn't really mean. And at Order meetings… well Snape was actually relatively pleasant for his standards around Hermione. I think he always had a bit of a soft spot for her, probably because she was the only one of us who believed he could be trusted… which is rather shameful for the rest of us, now that we know what really happen –e –e - ned." The last word was punctuated with a long yawn.
"A soft spot, huh?" Harry murmured. His wife was already floating towards slumber and did not respond. "Now, that's interesting…"
Harry being observant? Pinch me, I'm dreaming! ;)
Once again, I tried to write a conversation between Hermione and Snape (Severus now, of course) and they just ended up chattering far longer than I anticipated! Those two…
Hoping to have the next chapter up in a week or two. Until then, hope you enjoyed!