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 18: Friendship

That first letter after the return of the ring had opened a new channel of communication between Hermione and Severus. Hermione had answered his owl in the morning, not wanting their communication to end.

At first, the letters had almost the same tone as the previous ones. Hermione would rebut Severus' sarcasm with pointed words.

(…)

Your ring was never at risk, so stop the drama. Besides, this whole ring impasse is solved. Can we move on?

(…)

But even words written in that light were never meant to hurt, and somehow both knew that. It didn't matter how odd or improbable a friendship between them seemed; it was developing nonetheless.

Not even they seemed to understand each other's reasons for continuing. Every letter would end with an added comment, searching for reassurance.

(…)

It snowed all day today. I didn't know the winter in Bulgaria could be so severe. How's the weather in Scotland?

Yours,
Hermione

PS: Thanks for answering.

Severus didn't make it easier for Hermione. He'd had several decades of guarding himself from others, never letting go of his personal defenses. It couldn't be easy for him, either. His first reaction was always the attack.

(…)

Cold, damp, and dark.

Discussing the weather is very interesting. It's like talking about NOTHING at all.

Even my moron students could have come up with something better to make me waste my time with. Broken arms, furniture destruction, Transfiguration of body parts, classroom redecoration… I could spend the days laughing if I wasn't so busy with detentions and taking all those points from Gryffindor.

Severus Snape

PS: I'm not answering because you asked.

What Severus didn't expect was her persistence. Maybe he'd hoped she would persist, but his life experience didn't leave him with grounds to believe this would happen. But Hermione wasn't like anyone he'd met in his life. She was bold and didn't fear him.

Dear Professor Snape,

I thought that giving detentions and taking points from Gryffindor were what made you happy in the first place. I don't think I have ever heard your laughter and was distracted all day trying to imagine it. What makes you laugh?

(…)

Since you were bored when we discussed the weather, maybe you'll agree to discuss something more interesting, let's say, how you survived that evil snake. Or we can discuss favorite colors, foods, music….

I want to know you better.

Yours,
Hermione

PS: Why are you answering, then?

To say that Severus was scared of mere words such as "I want to know you better" seemed crazy, but that was a truth he would never admit. His first urge was to cut all communication with Hermione, but after a day spent in a very bad mood, culminating with an annoying conversation with Minerva during breakfast the following morning – where house-elf-made toast was mentioned – Severus wrote a quick answer.

Dear Miss Granger,

I don't laugh. I'm a teacher, I live in misery. I thought we'd covered that already.

My color is black. Chocolate is my favorite food. I like the sound of the piano.

Severus Snape

PS: Why do you keep writing?

It was as impersonal as possible, short and biting. Nonetheless, Hermione was delighted upon receiving it. For her, it meant they were starting a friendship, and she was looking forward to it. There was something about Severus that made Hermione happy. Maybe it was the fact that she was trying to make him happy and would now have a chance to succeed. Maybe it was something else entirely; something she couldn't recognize and wasn't trying to.

She decided she didn't need to be so cautious with her words after that last letter. It was like a surety bond to go on and get to know him better. It was also a challenge. In her answer, Hermione let go of the formalities and didn't hold back any impulse to write whatever she wanted to write him.

Dear Severus,

Chocolate? Really? I didn't think you had a taste for sweets, but that made me come up with a new theory. I think the reason you don't laugh is because you don't eat enough chocolate. Now I keep imagining that your laughter is rich as chocolate and it's all your fault.

Chocolate ice-cream, hot chocolate, chocolate cake, chocolate éclairs… your laughter.

(…)

I like fruit. Strawberries, apples, plums. My favorite color is blue, and I love the sound of the piano, too. Do you play?

That reminds me to ask you, how did you survive Nagini?

Yours,
Hermione

PS: Because you keep answering.

Severus had to read it several times, especially the chocolate part of it. If he had allowed his face to reveal emotions, it would show shock. Was she… flirting with him? If Severus didn't know better, he would believe so.

Merlin, chocolate éclairs!

This caught Severus so unaware that it took him a while to realize how Hermione had addressed him.

Of course, Hermione had no idea what this chocolate talk meant to Severus, and he revealed none of his reaction in his reply to her.

Dear Hermione,

My laughter has nothing to do with chocolate. What ridiculous notion is that?

I don't play any instruments, but I will bet that you play at least three, being the know-it-all that you are.

I had a Bezoar under my tongue that day.

Severus

PS: Who said you could drop the formalities?

Her first name on the top of the letter betrayed him. Hermione knew he hadn't been offended by her liberties. He'd even answered her questions without much fuss. Of course she didn't believe in the Bezoar story, but still! She was happy that he'd stopped ignoring the subject.

Dear Severus,

Thinking that you have a rich laughter is not ridiculous. Your voice is velvety and rich, quite beautiful, actually. I could only assume that your laughter would follow suit. I think I'll find out for myself soon enough.

I play the piano, but I failed to learn the violin. Satisfied now?

Before I forget, a Bezoar couldn't have saved you that day. How did you survive, Severus?

Yours,
Hermione

PS: It seemed wrong to keep calling you Professor.

It was definitely wrong to call him Professor, especially after the whole chocolate talk. He'd been dreaming about Hermione feeding him truffles, biting a chocolate-covered strawberry and licking the excess from her lips, and it was driving him mad.

He was mad to go on feeding these fantasies, especially because, if there was anything between them, it was friendship and nothing else.

All things chocolate left aside, Severus continued to correspond with Hermione and opened up to friendship like he hadn't had since childhood, since Lily.

It was terrifying, particularly because she was so much younger than he. And like Lily, Hermione didn't depend on their friendship to be happy; she had other friends, people her own age.

Severus tended to reach for the ring in his pocket when his thoughts trailed that way. It was the need to hold onto Hermione that made him hold the Claddagh Ring. If he failed her, too, like he'd failed Lily….

But the letters kept coming and going, and as long as he had them – and the ring – he would live. He didn't need much; he had learned long ago that happiness was a relative concept.

What Severus didn't know was that Hermione had very different plans where his happiness was concerned. A short letter might have warned him.

Dear Severus,

You're not a vampire! You were very much alive before that monster bit you – and I'm talking about Nagini, not Dracula! This explanation is even more preposterous than the Bezoar, the Muggle CPR, and the Polyjuice all together!

You must be having a laugh of your life over this.

Anyway, I'm taking a Portkey to London later today, and we'll be able to meet next weekend, finally. I'll hear your chocolate-rich laughter then.

I'll send a letter confirming the time and place.

Love,
Hermione

It'd been all very good up to that letter. Severus could handle Hermione at a safe distance, and as far as safe went, Bulgaria was perfect, London was risky, but face to face was disaster.

Did she have to mention chocolate?

Severus rolled the ring between two fingers on the inside of his pocket, hoping he would find a way to avoid this meeting – for his heart's sake.

Coming next… A second meeting, now with chocolate.