Disclaimer: It's not mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's.

A/N: Annie Talbot and Machshefa are the lovely ladies who beta-read this fic! : :hugs: :

Chapter 9: Dignity

Severus was late for breakfast, therefore he wasn't going. He'd planned to go, but he hadn't had a good night of sleep, and he was blaming Granger for that.

He'd dreamed of Lily, of her wedding, as he'd dreamed before. It was not the worst of the nightmares, but it wasn't a sweet dream, either. She was beautiful in her wedding dress, just the way he remembered from the real thing, but unlike most of his dreams of that day, he hadn't taken Potter's place as the groom. Severus observed from the bushes, as he'd done that day. He watched the progress of the ceremony as still as the trunk of the tree he used for hiding. All was as he'd remembered until the rings were exchanged, and for some reason only dreams can explain, his dream-self had felt alarmed that it wasn't his Claddagh Ring Potter was sliding up Lily's finger.

Then Granger was standing by his side, in plain view of those attending the ceremony – he remembered feeling afraid that someone would catch them spying, which added to how ridiculous this dream had been – and lifted the hand adorned by his ring so he could see it there. He couldn't move in his dream, couldn't take her hand in his and correct what seemed to be a mistake of wondrous proportions.

He'd awaken with this feeling of desperation, wrongness, his chest compressed and tight. He hadn't been able to sleep afterwards, and he'd tried. After lying awake for most of the night, slumber took over in the first hours of the morning.

Now Severus was late, so he ordered his breakfast to be served in his quarters. It was almost instantaneous; a house-elf was arranging his small table with what he'd asked, and as quickly as the house-elf had come, it was gone. Good, he didn't feel like being pampered this morning.

He was finishing the quick meal when the owl arrived with a letter for him.

Dear Professor Snape,

You're definitely underestimating me, as you always did. You won't get what you want by avoiding my questions.

Severus rolled his eyes. Gryffindors….

I told you in my last letter that I want to know what's so important about this "piece of cheap metal", this "junk", as you put it. Don't think I'll send the ring to you just because you have no sense of value and think it means nothing to me.

This was wrong on so many ways…. It was supposed to be junk to you, Granger!

In fact, the price has just risen. In addition to knowing why you want the ring (the truth, if you please), I also want to know how you discovered where I found it. I never said anything about any abandoned house in a site of war. All I said was that I found the ring on the day of the Battle of Hogwarts, and not even you, with all your misguided sense of worth, can consider the castle an "abandoned house".

Severus cursed his inattention and her stupid questions. There was more…

Although, since you've mentioned abandoned houses and we're negotiating, I'd like to know how you survived the events in the Shrieking Shack. Consider this a bonus for enduring all your niceties and tact during our continued communication.

Start talking, Snape, and leave the sarcasm for those who appreciate it.

Hermione Granger

Demanding chit! She wants to invade my privacy, doesn't she? The girl has no limits!

At the same time Severus had that reflex of indignation, he knew he'd lost a battle, a big one. She would not be dissuaded; he would have to give something or she would just keep refusing him the ring.

Stubborn Gryffindors! Don't they ever give up?

Severus had to admit that they didn't, so he sighed. Maybe a battle had been lost, but never the war, and if there was something Severus knew about, it was how to fight a war.

Severus left his quarters, taking the letter with him. He didn't have to answer right away, and he intended to word his letter very carefully. Maybe he wouldn't have to reveal much of anything after all.

o0oOo0o

Tired of a whole day and night spent in contemplation of his options, at the first light of the day, Severus had no other option but write to Miss Granger. He felt drained, pathetic and he hated himself for being weak. He stared at the parchment waiting to be sent and hated it. The words there… he hated them. Severus hated everything about this situation.

After finding the Headmistress in the corridor the day before, he had to make an appearance at breakfast.

He hated breakfast in the Great Hall.

But if he didn't go, Minerva would come to him, Severus knew. That would be much worse than any other choice available at the moment.

He took the letter and walked to the Great Hall. He could send his damnation later. If he was going down, he could very much enjoy his last meal as a man with dignity first, or as much dignity a man can maintain when surrounded by nosy women.

"Good morning, Severus!"

Why the enthusiasm? Severus asked himself. He chose to ignore the greeting and see if Minerva got the hint and left him be.

"Poppy was wondering if you were perhaps sick, but I assured her you had developed some kind of intolerance to elf-made toast."

She won't let go….

"I'm glad you kept her from meddling with what was not any of her business," he answered with a bow of mock gratitude.

He settled in for the meal trying to ignore all the others around him. He went for a slice of toast and started buttering it. He was just short of taking a bite when he got annoyed and turned to look at Minerva, lowering the toast to glare with more effect.

She lifted an eyebrow, not even trying to disguise that she'd been observing him since he'd taken the toast.

"Does this mean the toast isn't a problem anymore?" she dared to ask.

"This means you can be as annoying as your predecessor."

Severus bit his toast and helped himself of coffee. He took a sip followed by another bite of toast. It seemed the conversation was blessedly over.

"Severus."

He was wrong.

"I haven't realized until now that you were keeping score."

What was she on about? He looked at her and took another sip of coffee. "Amuse me," he settled his cup to hear her explanation.

"You do remember who my predecessor was, right? If I knew I was entering a competition…." She was smiling behind her cup. Not a good sign.

Then he understood why, but she was already stating the obvious for him.

"Beating you in sarcasm will be a big challenge."

He rolled his eyes, but only because that would be the expected reaction. This whole conversation made him see his predicament in another light, a darker light of times he would have died to forget. His distressing history haunted him without ceasing. Any doubt he could have of sending the letter in his pocket dissolved right there with the realization that he needed the few good memories he had.

He needed the ring more than he needed his dignity.

He finished the meal as quickly as possible and left in a flare of robes towards the Owlery.

Coming next… Hermione can't take any more of Snape's Slytherin maneuvers.