A/N: First off, I'd like to thank those that have taken time to review, follow or favorite this tale. Your efforts are very much appreciated. :-)
However, I do need to say that if you want to review, you need to sign in - I don't do the "guest" thing, because for the most part, those folk don't have anything constructive to say in regards to writing or storytelling. Sorry if that inconveniences some of you, but your comments won't appear in the review section.
Also, once again, if you don't like the premise or seeing this incarnation of the characters, please don't bother complaining to me - go read something else. You don't have the right to encourage me to post this in a private blog where impressionable minds won't see it because you don't feel that a character would ever do A, B or C. A prompt for a gift fic is meant to be followed and if you don't like where this one has Hermione starting out, this story is not for you. Although, I will say that where she starts out is not where she ends.
Now that I've finished with that bit of unpleasantness - on with the tale.
Disclaimer: Still not mine. The characters are just on loan.
Part II
The Coulson Project was the public name for the research backed by Potter and Malfoy for a better alternative to Wolfsbane potion, with the long-term goal of a cure for lycanthropy. At one time, it had run under a different Ministry-sourced name, but there were werewolves and even vampires that didn't want the project to succeed. Both groups of dissidents considered themselves a sovereign species and didn't want to be "cured" (the vampires were convinced that if lycanthropy was eradicated, it wouldn't be much of a scientific leap to dealing with vampirism as well), so they'd attempted to destroy both the project and its early participants.
The original project was scrapped as a result, but it was privately revived a few years later under the name of a talented young Muggle-born Healer, Erik Coulson. He was publicly working on a better cure for Dragon Pox that dealt with the greenish skin and pockmarks that its victims suffered, along with a vaccination to finally eradicate the potentially fatal disease. That Coulson was also the magical geneticist who led the current research on lycanthropy was only known to the research leads. The public was pleased, and the radicals were unaware of Coulson's primary objective.
All of the current team worked individually and only passed their research via the clearing house that the Potter-Malfoy Trust supervised personally in order to lower security risks. Severus had only recently discovered that Granger was the lead Arithmancer when he'd written to Coulson and demanded that he be allowed to meet with the number-cruncher because it was no longer possible for him to work in a vacuum. He'd needed to be able to understand the mind behind the formulations and advice he was receiving. That unconventional, intuitive and creative mind had intrigued him and led him down several useful paths for several months, so initially, it had been a bit of a shock to acknowledge that the little swot he'd scorned as a professor was now his current muse.
As he settled in behind his desk to adjust the spell parameters and formulae, he replayed the discussion they'd had earlier. He could now understand why conversation and ideas had flown and meshed so easily — they had got past all of the stumbling and awkwardness in the blind quite a while back and they were both well past the point of being intimidated by each other's mental acuity. Humming tunelessly, he penned a short note to go along with the calculations and set it aside. An hour later, he bundled everything into one of the special pouches that project participants used and took the short walk from his office to the atrium where his two messenger birds resided.
Severus' office was situated in a building he'd purchased with his settlement from the Ministry not too long after he'd officially resigned from Hogwarts. He sublet most of it, except for the top two levels. The top level, where his flat was situated, was an odd, U-shaped layout that accommodated the atrium. The work level held a public reception area, his storerooms, research library, office, and lab, and with the exception of the two-story indoor atrium and potions garden/messenger bird habitat that he'd designed himself, it was all rather utilitarian.
The ravens had been a housewarming gift and a peace offering of sorts from Minerva a few months after he'd been exonerated in the closed hearings conducted by the International Confederation of Wizards. He'd named them after Odin's birds in a fit of irony and created a naturalised stand using a small dead ash tree for much the same reason. One of the birds bounced forward along a branch and mantled aggressively as he approached it.
"Yes, Muninn, this is for the project, but I won't be using you today — you have a tendency towards rudeness, and I need to entice a certain young lady." He gave the unruly bird a bit of raw gizzard to placate it as he approached its partner. "Now, Huginn, this goes directly to Hermione Granger and no one else. If anyone else attempts to take it from you, feel free to take his hand off. Be polite to her and wait for a response." He attached the pouch and fed the greedy bird a treat before sending it off.
Another hour passed before his messenger returned to find him hard at work in the lab that adjoined his office. He had confirmation — she would be there in two days' time to present her adjusted calculations and assist with the associated trials. Pulling his notes with the three potion-related modifications he wanted to attempt that evening, he forced himself to set all other thought aside.
oOO0OOo
Severus spent the next day fully immersed in studying the results of the previous night's efforts. One of the modifications was an outright failure, but there were two others that held a bit of promise. It was strange to realise that he was eager to share the progress with Granger and see what she made of it. Albus had been the last person with whom he'd ever willingly shared his work, so he hadn't actually realised that the lack of someone to share things with actually made a difference in his output and creativity. He'd already made copies of his working notes and the studies, experiments and trials he'd conducted in the past for Granger's use. Now he needed to finish setting things up for their meeting the next day, so he spent the remaining time setting up the trials and creating space in which she could observe and work.
He was very interested to see the visual Arithmancy protocols that she'd developed and patented for use by others in her field. Supposedly, it made cross-disciplinary projects such as theirs easier to track, with the ability to make theoretical changes on the fly in real-time. It was a very intriguing concept for a researcher of his calibre, and the knowledge that Granger was the developer of this made her even more attractive to his way of thinking. Sometimes, it was important to know what motivated one's libido, so even if he never managed to get her into his bed, she'd be a colleague worth cultivating. Keeping that fact in mind, he finished his preparations at the lab and returned to his flat to make an early night of it.
The next morning, Severus woke early and took the time to actually eat a decent-sized breakfast instead of his usual one of an egg, a slice of toast and coffee by adding a bowl of porridge along with bacon. He'd placed an order for sandwiches, cheese and fruit to be delivered to his office at one in the afternoon, but he knew that meant nothing. He was pretty certain that once they started working, he'd be too involved to stop until late in the afternoon at best. Heading back to his bedroom, he changed into a comfortable pair of trousers and a long sleeved button down before combing back his hair and putting on his boots. Taking note of the time, he grabbed an over-robe and slipped it on as he headed down to his office to wait for Granger's arrival. He'd given her direction to the private entrance that would take her through the atrium, so he grabbed a container of treats and headed there to feed his birds. He made a point of greeting and feeding them each morning, if possible, to keep them from becoming difficult.
He hadn't been long at his task when he felt Granger cross his wards.
"This is lovely!" she exclaimed as she slowly crossed the room and took in her surroundings. "Good morning."
"Thank you, and good morning to you, as well. Come closer and greet these two so they won't feel slighted. You've already met Huginn here," he said as he nodded towards the bird he was currently feeding, "so let me formally introduce you to Muninn."
The bird in question took flight and landed on his outstretched arm. Severus turned his hip to give her access to the treat bag.
"Oh, you didn't!" she said with a delighted laugh as she reached into the bag he indicated and pulled out a long biscuit made of bone meal, ground insects and vegetable product and fed it to the greedy raven. "Minerva was so pleased when Hagrid found these two for her and told us who they were for. No wonder she looked as if she'd eaten an earwax-flavoured Bertie's Bott's when I asked if you liked her gift."
"I sent her a framed picture of me with the birds here in front of the stand, listed their names, and signed it, "Odin" in thanks."
She looked at the beautifully polished ash, rotating in place to follow its branches up to the floor above. "All of this blatant symbolism is just riddled with mixed messages. The poor woman only wanted to make peace with you." Throwing him an amused glance, she continued, "You are an evil man, Severus Snape."
Launching the raven back towards the stand, he smirked in response. "I realise that she wasn't meant to know where my true allegiance lay, and that she is sorry for the hell she and our other colleagues put me through that year, but that doesn't change what happened. At least we're on speaking terms now. I'm done here, so let's get to work, shall we?"
Granger quietly followed him as he locked away the bird treats in a specially warded cabinet. "I was forced to ward this closed with a custom release instead of the standard tap of a wand on the door. Those two were smart enough to make the correlation and managed to "borrow" a neighbour's wand to open it themselves."
"That must have been embarrassing."
"It would have been if the party in question had realised it was missing to begin with. I made the little thieves return it and created wards to prevent them from bringing in any others. Now they understand that they can't come home if they have a wand and that the cabinet will only open for me. Corbies learn much faster than my former students."
"I'll take your word for it. What I really want to know is who created that stand for you?" she asked as they passed through his office and into the lab research library.
"I bartered with Ollivander. In exchange for recreating his ruined potions stock, he taught me the spells needed to harvest and finish the tree myself." Severus felt a moment of satisfaction as he watched Granger's lips form a silent "oh." Moving into the lab proper, he pointed out a small alcove on the right. "There is a locker in there to hold anything you won't need, as well as a dressing area."
"Thank you, I'll only be a moment," she replied as she shrugged a small messenger bag from her shoulder and entered.
Severus walked over the stand that held his lab coat and exchanged his robe for the protective item. He'd been prepared to be chastised about baiting Minerva — after all, the woman was her old Head of House and a good friend, but she'd only been amused by his cutting sense of humour. Granger had caught on straight away to the nuances, like the fact that his birds' names, Huginn and Muninn, meant 'Thought' and 'Memory'. She apparently was familiar with Odin's name as well, which meant 'Fury', along with his role of having sacrificed himself to give knowledge to Man and other related details. It was a welcome change to just be accepted instead of censured for expressing his feelings. He looked up to find Granger watching him carefully. She now wore low-heeled dragon hide boots and a coat similar to his own over trousers and a high-collared shirt. She also carried a curiously designed zippered binder.
He walked towards the workstation he'd set up for her the night before and motioned her over. "I hope that this space meets with your requirements. I've set this up so that you have a direct line of observation to the tests I'll conduct."
"I was prepared to just sit or stand off to the side and attempt to stay out of your way. That's what I'm normally forced to do. This is very generous of you," she replied as she indicated the comfortable and functional space he'd provided.
"Indeed. You will also find a copy of all of my notes and results, along with the trial plans for today."
Taking a seat, Granger unzipped her binder and flipped it open. "Will it distract you if I run the visual equations in the air, about here?" she enquired, pointing to a space just in front of his dedicated work area.
"I've never seen Visual Arithmancy at work," he replied diffidently. "I'd rather you demonstrate for me before I make a decision."
"All right then. This will only take a moment. I'll just put up the original spell sequence and walk you through the revisions that I sent earlier. That way, you'll recognise what's happening without a lot of unnecessary input from me. I was told that you can follow just fine but find the actual process of making the calculations tedious," she stated cautiously.
"You were informed correctly." Pulling up a chair, he made himself comfortable. With a casual wave of his hand he said, "I'm ready," and watched as Granger tapped her wand on a page in the binder. The air in front of them dimmed, and the spell sequence danced before them. He turned forward in his chair to give it his undivided attention.
It was a glowing three-dimensional blue that was reminiscent of the Bluebell flames she'd favoured as a student. As he watched, she replaced runic symbols and numeric representations until the formula behaved as if it were partly sentient, with colours changing and pulsing in time to her movements. He could feel the magic involved tangibly, almost as if it were holding its breath — and when she figured in the last of the parameters he'd requested, the whole thing seemed to flicker with flame as it resolved with a mental sigh. It was elegant and functional and wondrous. He was speechless. He hadn't been prepared to be exposed so intimately to her magic.
"Go ahead and say it — I know it's a bit showy — but I desperately needed to put the magic back in magic after everything that went on. I can mostly tone down the more distracting visuals while we're working, but sometimes the magic picks up on my joy. I really love Arithmancy."
Severus resolutely kept his back to her as he worked to compose himself. "I can see that you do. It would probably be best if there were fewer pyrotechnics when we blend the spell sequences with actual potions — I need to be able to see the colours unadulterated."
"Oh, that won't be a problem," she responded cheerfully. "I only use full visual mode for practical theory. I've got a two-dimensional basic mode for cross-disciplinary work. It was just that you'd never seen it, and I wanted to show it to you completely."
You've shown me more than you know. Running his index finger along his lower lip, Severus made a decision. "Right, then. Let's use the basic mode for now and go back to full visual a bit later when we start changing things. Do you have values worked out for everything we'll use today?" Turning, he watched her flip to a different portion of her binder.
"I've got a concordance that I've created, along with the one that the Masters at the guild update monthly. If we need the values for anything that isn't in one of those, I can work it up as we go. Good enough?"
"Yes." Standing up from his chair, he walked over to the first trial. "Let's begin."
It was interesting to note that the basic mode was as practical and analytical as one could want, but instead, he found himself left cold by its very practicality. He preferred the warmth of the more visceral mode.
As predicted, they ended up working nonstop until almost four in the afternoon.
"We need to take a break and eat. I've ordered sandwiches in. Bring your binder, and we can continue the theoretical work," he said as he removed his lab coat and hung it on the stand before stepping into his office to remove the stasis charm from the serving platter.
When they'd made themselves comfortable at the table, Severus slid closer to take a look at the binder that Granger worked from. "Exactly how does this work? From what I can see, it's much more than just an overhead projection tool."
Granger pushed her plate aside and leaned in closer. "Currently, the binder is keyed to me, very much like my wand. It can work without that feature being activated, but it's not as efficient — and, before you ask, it requires my fingerprint."
"So, more than one person can use the device?"
"Yes, but so far, everyone prefers to have their own." She glanced at him sideways and sighed before continuing. "I need to ask you what probably amounts to a stupid question about the focus of research on lycanthropy."
Nodding his head in assent, he noticed that she seemed to be very hesitant to continue. "Go on. Ask."
Taking a deep breath, she idly flipped a page in her binder before responding. "Why is almost all of the research lunar-based? We're dealing with a fixed twenty-eight-day cycle that just happens to coincide with the full moon. I've got a twenty-eight-day cycle and the moon has nothing to do with it, even if it does make me want to kill at times — it's glandular. Why aren't we looking into glandular causation? Werewolves will change every twenty-eight days, even if they aren't exposed to moonrise, according to the studies that were done last year when researchers Portkeyed the subjects about in order to avoid the actual influence of moonrise. Every last subject turned during the time of moonrise in their native hemisphere when deprived of the actual event. I know that magic doesn't always follow logic. Is there something that I'm missing because I'm a Muggle-born?"
"You've never asked anyone this?"
"No."
"I'm honoured."
And he was. She was young, Muggle-born and a newcomer to the field. She hadn't been about long enough to chance asking what she thought might be obvious to everyone else, but she'd taken the risk with him. Taking his time, he mentally ran through everything he knew about lycanthropy and came up with nothing to refute her query.
"That was not a stupid question," he admitted slowly, drawing out the words as he continued to consider the concept — and she was off like a shot.
"Oh, thank you! I'd wanted to throw in my thoughts on this for ages. If we can find proof of a change in the chemistry of the blood, with a build-up of whatever chemical or cells over the twenty-eight-day cycle, with the full moon possibly affecting the earth's gravitational field as the primary trigger —"
"Stop," he ordered, raising his hand abruptly as he watched her visibly rein in all of her eagerness to listen to what he had to say. "You've obviously written your theories out and created models to support your ideas."
She took a breath to answer, and he raised his hand again. "Not a word — please. First we eat and complete the work we've started today." He watched as she forcibly bit back whatever it was that strained to pass her lips and hid the smile that threatened his own. "That should only take another hour or so. Then you will show me what you have, and we'll see if there's enough there to pull in Coulson," he stated, sitting back in his chair to gauge her response.
"All right, I can do it that way," she said, the excitement rolling off her in waves. "Will just you let me show you —"
He couldn't help it, he laughed. Hidden beneath Granger's otherwise sophisticated, scholarly exterior was the eleven year-old, hand-waving swot that had almost levitated off her seat in her eagerness to answer during that first Potions class.
"It's not that funny," she said with a frown as she sat back and favoured him with a cautious look.
"Oh, yes, it is," he gasped as he tried to regain his breath. "It's first day Potions all over again, without the bushy hair. You were actually quivering." He watched as she ducked her head in response in an attempt to hide the smile that was making its way to her face.
"I was not," she muttered, which only served to set him off again.
"Okay, fine. You win!" she said with a laugh of her own. "Can we just get on with things?"
"Yes. Now eat."
oOO0OOo
Severus couldn't sleep. It didn't surprise him when it took the rest of the evening to finish the initial lab work or that they worked well into the night looking over the premise of Granger's theory. It didn't cause him to think twice about how he'd ended up revising his own schedule to fit hers, so that they could spend the next few weeks focussing on the idea. The fact that they'd developed a routine over the following days didn't register either. It was the realisation that he was freely sharing ideas and thoughts that was keeping him awake about a week into his new schedule. Flipping onto his back and pulling the covers closer, he allowed his mind to wander back to the conversation they'd had two nights ago.
"You know, this is getting to be a bit much — the whole name thing," she said sharply as she leaned against her workstation in frustration.
"Well, what would you like me to do about it?" Severus responded without looking up from the notes he was currently writing.
"See? That's exactly what I mean," she snapped as she walked across the room and planted her elbows in front of him, leaning into his space. "You either don't use my name at all or you resort to calling me Granger as if it's major concession on your part."
With a weary sigh, he looked up from his work. "Well, Granger, that is your name."
"Last time I checked, my parents named me, Hermione."
"You call me Snape."
"Only because you haven't given leave for anything more," she replied with a smirk.
"Neither have you."
"Call me, Hermione," she'd whispered softly as she turned and went back to her own work.
Severus let a calculated amount of time pass be for he spoke. "Hermione."
"Yes?"
"Just trying it out. Carry on."
She'd shrugged and smiled as she'd turned her attention back to her own notes, not even bringing up the fact that he'd not reciprocated in allowing her use of his given name. He really liked that about her. She didn't push — she was willing to wait until he felt comfortable enough to give her that permission. She understood that it wasn't a slight, which many others automatically assumed. Apparently, he had a friendship scale as well, and use of his first name was a key part of it.
He hadn't shared like this since he and Lily were children speculating about all things magical before attending Hogwarts and he wasn't entirely certain how he felt about it. It had taken him enough time after the war to put everything "Lily" behind him now that his duty was done, so he wasn't exactly thrilled with the fact that Granger — no, Hermione — was stirring up the associations without even trying. Rolling back to his side, he slipped into a meditative state. Just before he crossed over into true sleep, he wondered where he stood on her scale now.
oOO0OOo
About the third week in, they'd managed to finalise the proposal and send it off to Coulson. It had taken less than a day to receive a response, and now they were currently awaiting his arrival in Severus' office. He'd never met the man in person, but he already appreciated the fact that Coulson hadn't pulled the "project lead" card and made them come to him. That said, Severus had given Coulson the direction to his official entry where Robert, his receptionist, would greet Coulson and lead him back instead of greeting the man personally as he'd done with Hermione.
Looking over at his partner, he noticed that she was calmly working on her latest word search magazine instead of obsessing over last-minute details the way she would have as a student. She'd also dressed the same as any other working day, so either she'd matured enough to become secure with who she was, or she'd already met Coulson and didn't feel as if she needed to impress him further — or both, for that matter.
"Hermione, have you actually met our illustrious project lead before? I've only ever corresponded with him, and only then regarding the project."
Giving him a mischievous grin as she looked up from her puzzle, she replied, "Yes, I have. Aren't you leaving the reconnaissance a bit late?"
He snorted in response. "Oh, I've done my homework — I know all of his background. Since Draco is the only person I speak with regularly who has dealt with him personally, the impression I have is rather one-sided at this point." He gave her an expectant look.
"Fine, I'll spill. I met him when he came to personally talk me out of taking the teacher-research position at Salem to contract with his research group instead."
"You were seriously looking to leave Britain?"
"I told you, things were pretty bad for a while. I didn't really have a connection with my parents at that point either. So, after the dust settled and it wouldn't look like I was running away, I'd planned to relocate, but he was pretty persuasive and offered me a much more attractive deal."
"I hope you realise you owe him your sanity. His interference is almost worthy of a Life-Debt. I'm already starting to like him."
"Very funny, Mr Snape."
He gave her a pensive look before speaking. "It's Severus."
Before she could respond his receptionist arrived with Coulson in tow. He was not what Severus had expected. The man who stepped forward to greet them did not fit the mental profile that he'd drawn up based upon the work they'd shared. With his direct assessing gaze, Coulson could easily pass as a member of the Royal Navy's Special Boat Service or a Hit Wizard. He moved with an economy of motion that seemed to reinforce that impression. Ethnically, he was predominantly Greek, with an olive complexion, cropped dark dirty blond hair and startling blue eyes. He was dressed professionally in a collared button down, trousers and a dragon-hide lab coat, which was standard for those in his field; however, nothing about him said Healer, researcher or British wizard. Severus knew him to be all of those things, and it was becoming increasingly clear as to why Draco rapidly changed the subject whenever he'd asked about the man.
"Miss Granger, it's good to see you again," Coulson stated in a business-like manner. Turning to Severus, he smiled slightly. "Master Snape, it is a pleasure to finally meet you in person. I have information that will most likely please both you and Miss Granger."
"Good to hear that, and it's just Snape."
"Coulson will do, as well — I get enough of 'Healer' at university."
"You have samples?" Hermione asked as she attempted to contain her excitement. Severus and Coulson smiled.
"I have that and much more," Coulson responded, gesturing to his carry-case. "If we can move this discussion to the lab?" he enquired, looking to Snape for confirmation.
Hermione streaked across the office, leaving the two men in her wake.
"Is she always like this?" Coulson asked casually as he watched her pass through the doorway.
It surprised Severus that he actually knew her well enough now to answer that question honestly. "For the most part, yes," he replied softly as he led the slightly taller man through his office to the lab.
oOO0OOo
Sometimes, research was a slow, dragging thing that made one want to cast a quick Incendio and storm off in a strop. This was not one of those times. It was now the beginning of October, and three weeks had passed since Coulson had gifted them with more knowledge and materials than they knew what to do with. Instead of being overwhelmed, they were making headway at a frightening speed. Severus was almost certain that they were nearing a breakthrough of some sort, and it was hard to call a stop to the work each night. But stop they had, and now he was in bed, engaged in what was fast becoming his favourite nightly monologue: thoughts on his rapidly growing friendship with Hermione.
She brought fresh coffee and pastries each morning to go with the fruit, eggs, meat or porridge he prepared and they would breakfast in his office. They mostly discussed the project, but here and there, little bits of their daily lives managed to slip in as well. He knew that she couldn't meet with him on Sundays because that was her family day — with either her parents or at the Burrow. She knew that he met Minerva for breakfast every third Saturday. He recognised that when she abruptly stopped what she was doing and went to spend time in the atrium, he'd either been too abrasive, or she needed to let her mind slow down. She understood that when he held his hand up for silence, he was usually chasing a thought and left him to it without further questioning. They also spoke more of what made the both of them tick, along with dissecting past as well as current events.
He found that he was starting to depend on their friendship, and in the back of his mind, that thought continued to send up red sparks of warning. He was obsessive by nature, so he wasn't quite certain where one drew the line for a healthy association. Closing his eyes, he pulled up a memory from that afternoon.
Three quarters of the lab's air space glowed with complex formulae in full visual Arithmancy mode. Hermione was attempting to create the values needed to plug in the latest sample results and had failed to make the sub-equations balance for the sixth consecutive time. As she paced up and down the lab preparing for yet another attempt, he walked over to her workstation and gently closed her binder, cancelling the display in an abrupt shower of light.
She turned and stormed over to him. "Why did you do that? I needed to run an error-checking sequence and you had no —"
He held up a hand and smirked when she huffed in frustration. Stepping closer, he reached out and took her hand, and proceeded to drag her to the atrium where he supplied her with treats for the ravens before returning to his own work. It was close to an hour before she returned.
"Severus?"
"Hmm?"
"I just wanted to let you know that you've officially advanced to Friend, because only a real friend would risk getting hexed for interrupting me like that."
He shrugged in response. "You needed to stop. I saw where the numerical imbalance was on your third try, and we both realise that you wouldn't have taken kindly to my ungentle style of correction by the sixth. It was purely a matter of self-preservation."
She wandered the perimeter of the lab to her workstation and flopped inelegantly into her chair before opening the binder. "So, where's the problem? I'm not in the mood to hunt it down at this point," she muttered as she flung the sequences back up from the page, causing them to spark and fluctuate before settling.
Ignoring her display of pique, he crossed his arms before answering, "You need to look at the twenty-third sub-equation. The value for aconite is transposed and located before Gebo, when you distinctly told me it needed to be placed after." He watched as she tracked the equation in question and rapidly made the changes, feeling the greater sequence resolve as a result.
With an exaggerated sigh, she turned to him. "I know it's a bit early, but I think I'd better leave. I have something I'd like to try with you, but I need a clear head for it. Thank you again for stepping in like that, Severus. Septima was the last to do that for me, and she doesn't count, because she was my mentor."
It was both humbling and gratifying to know that he did count in a way that mattered — to be appreciated just for being himself. It was heady.
Severus opened his eyes, letting go of the memory and rolled onto his side. This was turning into a nightly ritual, which was more than bothersome because he hadn't needed to habitually engage in this type of mental review since the end of the war. He really needed to start compartmentalising his feelings again before he made a fool of himself. Hermione had mentioned needing a clear head for whatever she had planned in the morning, so he found himself actively, aggressively clearing his mind for the first time in years before drifting off to sleep.
oOO0OOo
Severus sat next to Hermione as she opened her binder and flipped about midway through it before she stopped. "I want to add you to my binder."
"Explain."
Leaning forward on her elbows, she looked down at the page before looking back up at him. "I want to try joint Arithmancy. You understand how I build my calculations, and I have become sufficiently familiar with the way you craft a spell sequence. I think the breakthrough we're looking for can only be accomplished jointly. Are you willing to try?"
"This is a form of joint casting?"
"Yes, in all the essentials, and I trust you enough. Do you trust me?"
And that was the crux of the situation. "For the moment, yes. Do not make me regret my decision."
Biting her lower lip, she held out her hand. "I'll need to prick your index finger, just enough to create a fingerprint next to this sequence here," she said as she indicated the spot on the parchment.
"I thought you said it only required a print?" He wasn't opposed to using such a small amount blood, but he wanted to hear what she had to say.
"I'm able to make intuitive leaps and calculations with a higher level of accuracy with my signature bonded to the programming sequence by blood. Normally, I work without the aid, but for what I want to attempt today, it is more likely to work. We can do this with saliva or a dry print, but we will have to work all that much harder to mesh our signatures — along with losing the benefit of the artefact taking the backlash of any spell work that goes awry."
He pulled the binder closer and looked over the sequence to ensure that it was a one-use spell array and was pleased to note that not only was it one-use, it also required a willing donor and would end today when their joint casting was complete. He held his hand out over the binder to signal his willingness, and Hermione quickly tapped her wand to his finger to draw the tiny amount of blood to the surface before directing him to place his finger down on the parchment in the box at the end of the sequence. She completed the sequence by adding her own print next to his, and they both disappeared.
"So, why have we brought out the big guns, so to speak?" he asked as she flipped to the last study they'd processed.
"Coulson sent me the information on the mitochondria we traced with that spell of yours. The little buggers seem to be the culprits — they build up over the twenty-eight-day period, rapidly reproduce as soon as moonrise hits, and die off en masse at moonset. He's given us a set of possible proteins that might cause the reproduction to begin with," she said, in a rush. "We need to run the probabilities to see if we can isolate the catalyst."
Pushing back in his chair, Severus looked up at nothing. If they were able to isolate the catalyst, he could possibly create a potion, spell or both if needed to arrest the reproduction of the rogue cells. There was a good probability that the subject needed a threshold amount of cells in order for moonrise to trigger physical change, otherwise partially infected victims like Bill Weasley would turn as well. It wouldn't cure the subject, but they would be that much closer to finding a solution.
Sitting forward, he looked at Hermione, studied her. She hadn't needed to bring him in on this bit of it at all. It might take her longer alone, but he was more than confident that she would arrive at whatever conclusion there was without his input. Most researchers would have broken off at this point, done the work and kept the acclaim, if any, for their selves. Lily had done as much when they were students in Potions, competing for the top rank for their year. And here he was again, making comparisons where he shouldn't. Childhood friendships ran a greater risk of being shallow, and even Potter and Hermione had competed in Potions during their sixth year because of his book.
Time to stop wool-gathering.
"Did Coulson include samples from victims such as Weasley? We know that he suffers from increased aggression without transformation. We need to compare the levels."
Tapping a portion of the parchment page, Hermione put the information up for him to see.
"Did you already have this from before?" he asked.
"No, I worked it up over the last few days when we knocked off."
"I can see that we'll be having a discussion about actually knocking off and getting some rest. That's why you made such a dunderheaded error yesterday."
"You've caught me out," she admitted with a sheepish grin. "I did go home and sleep for today's work. Are you ready?"
oOO0OOo
It took an additional three days to narrow things down to the point of needing to run a newly crafted spell sequence. "I need to stop here and test what I've got before we can add the information to the matrix, Hermione."
Looking over her shoulder, she shook her head. "We can run the sequence via the binder. I've modified it for your spellcrafting. We can test it virtually and see if it pans out. The binder will transfer the information when you've approved the sequence."
"I thought this was just for Arithmancy?" Lifting the object in question, it was interesting to note that she seemed rather diffident about providing an explanation.
"I've been working on this prototype for a while. I'm average when it comes to spell creation, so I can't really push the boundaries of the binder. I was hoping you wouldn't mind giving it a go," she stated carefully.
Ah, she did have a need for my participation, but it was still benevolent. "What level of spell work have you tested?"
"Level Nine simulations that had already been vetted. I even begged one with five intentional errors to test for backlash."
"And if we blow up your precious binder?"
"I've got two spares with all of the work backed up — this is the only Spellcraftre's prototype, the others are strictly Arithmancy. It won't change anything important."
That was all he needed to know. "This is a Level Six sequence for the record." And with a flourish, he began. Given certain circumstances, he had just as little restraint as she did.
oOO0OOo
"Oh, good lord, Severus. Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?" Hermione whispered, nine hours later. He watched her stare about in wonder, a trembling hand pressed to her lips as she turned in a circle to observe the simulation of spell-sequence and potion as they interacted with the virtual cell samples. The cells were actively reduced by the onset of moonrise, entering a cycle of apoptosis as rapidly as they formed, due to a combination of an enzyme to accelerate and shorten the target cell's life-cycle, along with the lowering of the target protein they'd isolated earlier.
Turning abruptly, she activated a sequence that showed the visual mark-up of the Arithmancy involved, including all the data and timing notation needed for live testing before saving everything. He continued to watch her as she silently walked over to where he stood and looked up at him, unshed tears shining in her eyes.
"Changing the sequence to trigger at moonrise was the key, and we wouldn't have discovered that anytime soon with normal methods," he murmured. "Every other sequencing variation would either kill off or damage the subject, and it would have taken months of testing. Your prototype is astounding, Hermione."
It was beautiful, empowering. So was she. Reaching out, he trailed his fingers gently along her jaw line and made a decision. Slipping his hand behind her head, he kissed her, gently at first, and then with increasing need as she kissed him back. He stepped in and pulled her closer as he felt her arms come up around him. It felt magical. He was feeling her emotions and desires as if they were his own, and if he hadn't had such a strong sense of self, he would have easily lost himself to it. It was magical. Needless to say, it wasn't one of the intended uses for the binder. With a frustrated groan, he broke off and gently pushed her back. "I'm sorry — we're still linked. I do want you, though."
She reached up and gently ran a finger down his nose and looked away with a sigh. "How could I miss that with all of the additional feedback," she said. "Give me five minutes. This isn't over."
It took her less than five minutes to shut down the spell work and break the link, leaving them both all the more desperate.
"Severus, if we do this —"
"I know. No one-offs. Think of this as a test-run for sexual compatibility," he replied gently.
"You agree to my terms? I can't do a relationship right now."
"And if you'll recall — I don't want one."
"Good. My place. I have a Portkey."
He almost told her that his flat was just upstairs but suddenly realised he wasn't ready to share that bit of himself, so he said, "From my office" and grabbed her hand. They made their way through the lab, and as soon as they crossed the threshold, Hermione fished a platinum chain with a stylised Hogwarts pendant from beneath her shirt and held it out to him. With a whispered Portus, they were gone.
Severus didn't bother to take in much of his surroundings, although he did get an impression of openness and light before he was summarily pushed onto a bed and kissed to within an inch of his life. Somewhere during the process, they managed to disrobe, and soon, all he could do was feel. It really had been too long. Focussing all of his attention on Hermione, he took the lead back and proceeded to simply indulge — in her mouth, her neck, the lovely tits that pushed up as he licked a path down her throat… and then he was startled to find himself on his back.
"I really, really appreciate the attention and that particular skill set," she said as she grabbed his cock and slid onto it with a happy sigh, "but right now, a thorough fucking is what I want."
Severus didn't argue the point. If that was what she wanted, he was more than up to providing it.
Severus decided that the most interesting thing about sex with a real friend, someone you actually care about, was the intimacy of it. There was an added level of trust that lent a different quality to the act that can't be quantified, and that was something that he hadn't been aware he'd been missing until now. After satisfying their initial, heated desires, they'd taken time to explore and find out what the other liked — there was a generosity involved that he hadn't expected coupled with just the right amount of greed to keep things interesting. The other benefit was the fact that he wasn't tossed out on his ear as soon as they were done with one another.
"You can stay if you like. Either here, or there's a bed in the spare room if you'd be more comfortable with that arrangement," Hermione said as she rolled over to look at him.
"I'll stay for a bit, but I need to head home this time."
"Ah, then I've passed your compatibility test," she replied playfully, rolling closer in order to nibble his earlobe.
"I don't think I'll be giving you up any time in the near future," he said with a soft groan. "I do need to leave here before daybreak." He pulled her closer, in direct contradiction to his words.
"Mmm, that's perfect… yes, just like that," she hissed as she slid up and down his body, making certain he knew she enjoyed the friction. "I know my timing is a bit crap, but I need to know if you're up for escort duty in the near future," she said, letting one of her hands wander south.
Severus was tempted to say no, but he wanted her to know that he'd uphold his end of the agreement fully. "Where am I escorting you and when?" he asked as she slid a lazy finger along his perineum, causing his breath to hitch.
"Ron and Marissa's reception next Friday. I'll send you the details," she replied as her fingers continued to wander along the length of him.
"You don't want much at all, do you?" he replied sarcastically.
"Actually, I do. I was wondering if you were up for another go before you head out."
With a growl, Severus showed the little manipulative witch just what he was up for.
oOO0OOo
Severus was slightly nervous the next morning because he wasn't quite certain if the way they worked would be affected by their new status as lovers. He needn't have worried. Hermione showed up at the office at the usual time, armed with fresh coffee and their favourite pastries. There were no awkward hugs or kisses on the cheek to deal with.
They went about the rest of their day in the usual fashion and managed to tidy up all of their findings and ship them off to Coulson for further instructions. If it weren't for the rather heated look she gave him as she pulled the Portkey from beneath her shirt when they were finished, he'd almost swear that he'd hallucinated the night before. It was nice to know that they were on the same page: they had a backlog of sexual encounters to make up for, and there was no time like the present to deal with it.
A/N: For anyone that may be wondering, Snape's POV will be the only thing we see. Most SSHG stories are very Hermione-centric, with her POV dominating the narrative. I wanted to focus on Severus. Part III should be up tomorrow.