AN: For some reason ff.n won't let me reply to my reviews or Private Messages. I am sure it will clear up soon. I probably just made them dizzy with all thses chapters. Until then, thank you!

The cuckoo clock began to squawk at noon and was quickly smashed off the wall by a hex. It was just as quickly repaired again.

"Are you seriously going to do that every hour, on the hour?" she asked, in a huff, as she stuffed her wand back into her sleeve.

"Yes," he replied without looking up from his patent forms.

She rolled her eyes and went back to her contract.

"It says here that I must turn over any new potions I develop in the next year for you to patent in your name. That's not fair."

"Then leave it out of the contract," he replied distractedly. "Why are you still reading those ancient books? We've already negotiated your salary and percentages for the next year, what more is there to decide?"

"But this history of apprenticeship is so fascinating and I don't want to miss something that might be important. For instance, it says I am entitled to a mug of ale, a heel of bread with cheese and a pallet on the floor near the fire. Oh, and meat once a week. That could save me some rent."

He lifted up his head and looked at her with annoyed irritation and then flicked his wand at his pantry. A loaf of white bread drifted over and he snatched it open and lobbed the end piece at her. "I'm out of ale," he said with a sneer.

"You shop at Tesco's? And where's my cheese?" She bit into the slice of bread.

"What's wrong with Tesco's? And don't tempt me. I have a rind of old Parmesan that would leave a lump between your eyes."

She giggled again and swallowed before she choked. "You just never struck me as the type to shop at a Muggle grocers. I can't picture you doing something as mundane as pushing a trolley."

"Yes, well, the Ministry frowns on charming them where Muggles can see. As you have already noted, the exchange rate is in our favor. Muggle food is cheaper. Now get back to work."

She stared at him for a while with a small smile on her face before she dipped her head back down to her books.

"Do you have any idea how many regulations there were in the fifteenth century pertaining to how often an apprentice is obliged to provide sexual favors for their master? There is a whole section on when it is considered inappropriate to drink man dew…"

"Granger…" he growled.

She giggled again and went back to work.

Hermione heard the knock at the door and hurried to set the bowls of snacks in her hands down on the table before she answered it.

Ginny gave her a huge hug and two bottles of wine as she whirled passed. Harry pecked her on the cheek and carried the Indian take-away into the kitchen to be reheated later, and Ron walked in carrying a smile and hugged her tight before running over and picking up the remote on her telly. His newest addiction was Robot Wars, and she recorded the episodes he missed while training or away for a game.

The wine was opened, and glasses were poured and passed around, as they filled each other in on the mundane happenings of the past few weeks.

"So, Gin, are you still planning on beating the pants off of Chudley single-handedly next week? I have to admit, I haven't been this excited to see a game in forever. I have no idea who to root for between you all."

"Root for the Harpies. Ginny's gonna need all the help she can get," said Ron around a mouthful of crisps.

"I can't wait," said Ginny. "This is going to be so much fun! Humiliating my brother and teaching Harry who's going to be wearing the trousers in this relationship from here on in. How much fun is a girl allowed?"

Harry laughed and swept his arm around her and pecked her on the cheek. "Which reminds me," he said digging into his shirt pocket. "Here you go." He handed her two tickets to the game between the Canons and the Harpies.

"Oh great! But why two? Are you still holding out the hopeless notion that I can find a date at a moment's notice?"

"Well," said Ron. "Maybe not for a romantic dinner for two, but surely you could find someone for a Quidditch match. There's lots of blokes out there that are shallow enough."

"So true," said Ginny. "Like you for instance." She turned away from her brother in disgust. "You don't have to bring a date, Hermione, just bring a friend."

"Bring Snape," said Harry. "I'd love to see him there."

Hermione laughed. "You have got to be kidding me. I can see the look on his face right now when I ask him. Then again, he thinks I'm half demented already, what's the harm?"

"Is he still trying to destroy your clock every hour?" Harry asked.

"Absolutely. I started silencing it when I leave work, or I have to find all the pieces when I come back."

"Have you tried charming it to make another sound?"

"Yeah, that was the first thing I tried. I had it play Opera. Tosca, as a matter of fact. I'd have thought someone like Snape would love Opera."

"Not so much?" said Ginny with a laugh.

"Not so much," Hermione replied.

"Have you considered giving in and Silencing the thing?" asked Harry.

"Not on your life," she said. "It's way too much fun."

Harry smiled at her and leaned in and patted her knee. "It's good to see you having fun again."

"Here, here," said Ron without turning his face from the screen.

"So how is work, aside from fun," asked Ginny.

"It's actually been insane, since the orders started coming in. Next week will be even more fun when they realize Snape holds the patent to the improved Pepperup as well. That's when I'm sure it will make the papers. I already wrote a press statement."

Ginny shook her head. "You do realize they will rip you apart in the press again, once the public finds out you're working for the man that has all of their gonads in a vice?"

Hermione smiled wickedly. "I know."

Ron turned his head and looked at her then laughed. "She's scary, that one."

"Aren't I? Snape says I'm highly disturbing."

"Really?" he said in surprise. "You even creep Snape out? Excellent!"

"How long are you going to hold Pepperup hostage?" asked Harry.

"I think a day or two at the most. Anyone can brew the old formula in their kitchen, but when they find out it's just not as good…" She shrugged innocently. "There's no way we could ever take over sole production, and people might actually do something stupid if we let it work up too much momentum. I think if we time it right, they will just be taking that deep lungful of breath to start screaming when we cut the legs out from under them by turning it back to public domain and pretending it was a paperwork error. I'm sure at that point some intrepid reporter will go look into what other patents he owns and that's when it will really get fun."

"How much fun have you been having?" asked Ginny, pouring more wine. "Is this much fun legal?"

"It's ridiculously fun," Hermione replied with a giggle. "Last week I accidentally ingested Veritaserum, and he actually cackled as he grilled me on all the dreadful things we got up to in school."

"That's awful!" cried Ginny. "He could have asked you personal questions, and you'd have been at his mercy!"

Hermione shook her head. "He'd never do that. Threaten it, yes, but he's too much of a gentleman."

"You sound like you fancy him," said Ron.

"Of course I do! I realized that three weeks ago. I think the world of him. Not that he'd notice. He's been too busy brewing. Just as well. It's probably just an overreaction to how happy I am now. Hero worship taken to an extreme. Best not to make an idiot of myself. He doesn't deal well with idiots."

"So there's no chance he'd return your feelings?" asked Ginny.

"Oh, do be serious. Snape fancy me?"

"Why not?" said Ron defensively. "You're a catch!"

"I'm a catch that's young enough to be his daughter, and a student that he literally rescued from the gutter. I seriously doubt he sees me as anything more than a friend, at best. Besides, he already feels terribly guilty about what happened to my reputation when he did step in and try to help me. The last thing he'd do is taint my reputation further."

"Well, that'll be a mute point," said Harry. "Skeeter knows it was you that reported her as an unregistered Animagus. Once she gets a hold of the fact that you two are working together alone in his house all day, no one but us will believe he's not tainting you up, down and sideways, three times a day."

Hermione sighed. "I know. It's a shame really. I could do with a little tainting."

"Show him your tits," said Ron. "He'll taint you in a heartbeat."

"Ugh, gross," blurted Ginny, throwing a cushion at him.

Ron ducked without taking his eyes off the telly. "What? All I'm saying, is that if she wants to get Snape in the sack, get his mind on her tits. You don't have to actually flash him, just don't wear a bra. You remember that time in the tent when you couldn't find your bra? Merlin, I wanked myself blind for days from watching them bounce around the countryside under your jumper."

"Okay, that's it!" cried Ginny, jumping up off the couch and storming into the kitchen. "I was going to heat up dinner, but who would still want to eat after picturing that?"

Harry, Hermione and Ron all looked at each other and shrugged.

"I'm hungry," said Hermione.

"Me too," said Harry.

Ron just grunted.

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror and struck an innocent pose. She'd chosen a loose skirt that flowed down to just above her ankles and a knit jumper with a respectably high collar and long sleeves. The fact that it was a bit clingy and she wasn't wearing a bra was offset by the fact that she hadn't taken much effort with her hair and wore sensible shoes. Surely she wouldn't look like she was trying in sensible shoes?

Ever since her dinner the other night, when she'd finally admitted she fancied Snape out loud, she'd thought of nothing else. She'd ruined thirty Galleons-worth of ingredients yesterday because she'd had trouble keeping her eyes and mind off of the man.

He was so different to what anyone thought they knew. He was so very human. He stubbed his toes, scratched his bollocks, shopped at Tesco's, and she suspected he drank far too much when she wasn't around. He was a masterful brewer and a terrible cook. He snapped, and snarled, and moved incredibly quickly to heal the tiniest steam-burn on her pinky, before taking the next fifteen minutes to berate her.

He also blushed. That last fact had done her in.

What he didn't seem to do was fancy her back. Obviously, she was not his cup of tea, which made her even more of an idiot for attempting to take Ron up on his advice. Since when did she ever take Ron's advice in anything but chess?

She nearly changed her mind and threw on a bra after all, but she looked at the picture she had Spell-o-taped next to her mirror, showing him leaning in to whisper in her ear, as she slowly turned her face towards him, and she firmed up her resolve.

Soon the world would be even more convinced she was shagging Severus Snape than ever before. Was making it a reality really that wrong? Well, aside from the whole never-date-your-boss thing? And the age difference? And the fact that she might only fancy him because she was suffering from a bad case of hero worship?

She sighed. It was his fault. A man his age really shouldn't have a nice bum. Really. If he was expecting her to stick to the high road with as arse like that, he was expecting far too much.

She nodded to her reflection and left her bedroom.

Five minutes later she hurried back in, pulling her jumper over her head and snatching a bra out of a drawer.

Hermione Apparated to a secluded area by the old canal and walked the few hundred yards to his dilapidated house. She felt his wards accept her as she pushed open the front door. There was something homey about their routine now, the way he'd added her to his life, his home and his livelihood. She took off her cloak and hung it on the peg by the door and walked through his living room, crammed with books and now with two faded squashy chairs instead of one. She went through to the kitchen and he looked up from his plate and nodded towards the cooker.

"Breakfast if you want it," he muttered, after he'd swallowed and wiped his lips with a napkin.

She grabbed a plate. "What have we burned today?"

"Scrambled eggs and tomatoes. You ate all the sausage yesterday. There's coffee. We're out of tea as well. I need to run to the store again. I think you should stop by St. Mungo's and have a Healer check you for a tape worm. The Giant Squid ate less than you do."

"I'll have you know, I have a very high metabolism. As for running to the store, I'll go with you. I need a few things myself."

"No, I need you to start the base for more Veritaserum, and then start on that post that came today. I think they caught on to the Pepperup sooner than we thought they would. I'll need to monitor this batch of Wolfsbane for a few hours when I return."

"Alright. I'll start that now as I eat."

He pushed back from the table as she turned away from the cooker with her plate. They danced around each other awkwardly in the small space before he twisted away towards the sink, and she made it to the table and sat down in his chair.

"Snape?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you like to go to a game with me on Saturday?"

He paused, letting the water sluice clean his soapy hand. "A game?"

"I have tickets to see Harry and Ron play against Ginny and the Harpies for the first time. It will be fun. I…" She bit her lip and took a deep breath. "I was wondering if you wanted to go. With me."

He didn't reply during the time it took to finish scrubbing his plate and rinse it. He plucked up an old tea towel and dried his hands. "I don't think that would be wise, Miss Granger. The press… I think it would be too damaging to your reputation to be seen with me."

"That's a noble sentiment, Mr. Snape, but my reputation is rather tattered already. And if you are right about the day's post, there won't be anything left by the weekend anyway."

He turned and looked at her with haunted eyes.

She smiled at him. "I don't care," she said.

"Your friends—"

"You are my friend. As for the others, I have no secrets from them. They gave me two tickets. They know how I feel about you, and they do not judge me." She'd taken a gamble with that last line. He could take it for the truth it was, or merely the truth he could accept. Her resolve failed her as he stared at her. She looked down at the table and grabbed the ketchup.

"Let's see how the week goes," he said.

"Alright."

The week didn't go well. Snape grew more furious and withdrawn with each new "exposé" that appeared in the papers about the two of them. The public was now well-aware of just how many patents Snape held and just how vulnerable they were, should he decide to privatize all of them. Even after their quick denial of any intention of changing the status of the Improved Pepperup patent, stories were published that came close to painting him as the next Dark Lord, and her as either his naïve or willing whore. The press had parked outside his house in the beginning of the week and showed no signs of leaving. After the first day of being accosted by photographers and journalists, Hermione had decided to travel back and forth to work under a Disillusionment Charm that left them convinced she was now spending the night.

The public ate it up and Hermione was shocked at the sheer volume of hate-mail that came with the post each day. Snape had just sneered when she'd expressed surprise.

The mood inside the house hit an all time low. It was as if Snape feared the press could see and hear everything they said to each other. He was painfully correct in his behavior when they did interact, but usually kept to himself, either brewing or making a point of leaving the house and dragging the press along behind him like spaniels, so she could be alone.

Hermione tried several times to pull him out of the malaise he was falling into, only to be courteously ignored.

By Friday, he was ready to explode, and Hermione feared he might just do something stupid. Taking a leaf from his book, she decided it was her turn to be the one to lure them away and let the man have some peace. At noon, she packed up her work area and took off her brewing apron.

"I've got a few things I need to do," she said casually.

"What things?"

"Important things," she replied. "I'm leaving early today."

His head came up from the cauldron he'd been stirring and he looked around at her. She couldn't help fidgeting under his stare.

"Give me a moment, and I will see you safely out."

"There's no need," she said. "I'm a big girl, Snape. I can handle it."

His eyes slid closed and he dropped his head. "You shouldn't have to," he said quietly.

"They don't bother me. I wish they didn't bother you."

"And I wish they'd all burn in hell. No one ever gets what they wish for."

"That's not true. Lots of people do. Ginny and Harry did. Ron as well." She sighed. "I wish you would reconsider and come tomorrow."

He looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. "You must be joking. I think you're an idiot to even consider going yourself. I'd forbid it completely, if I didn't know Arthur and Molly will be there."

"Forbid it?" Hermione's temper flared. "What makes you think you have the right to forbid anything? You can't order me around once I leave this house, Snape. You have no claim on me outside of our contract."

He opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again.

"Get out, you stupid little girl," he snarled. "See if I care what happens to you!"

He turned away from her, and she felt a wrenching pain in her chest. She took a deep breath and walked over to where he was dicing daisy roots with painstaking care. She lifted her hand and placed it on his shoulder and felt his sudden shudder under her hand before he shrugged it off.

"I'll see you Monday," she said.

He continued to chop roots for a long moment, before he darted a look at her and nodded sharply once.

She was halfway up the basement stairs when he called out to her.

"Please be careful, Granger."

"I will, I promise."

Hermione clapped, cheered and shouted as Harry and Ginny whizzed past, grinning like a typical pair of love-struck rivals out to kill each other over a tiny golden ball. She was wedged in with the rest of the Weasleys and trying hard to ignore the fact that she was the cause of more talk in the seats around her than the game. George was plastered to her side, trying to physically shield her from the comments, and Molly looked like she was ready to start hexing people, while Arthur spent most of the game calming his wife.

Hermione lasted forty-five minutes before the names and cat-calling became too much and she quietly left, despite the protests from her adopted family. She was distracting them from a game they should have been talking about with laughter for the next ten years and felt like an arse. She hurried to the apparition site and popped away.

She landed at the canal, and cast a quick Disillusionment Charm over herself and snuck past the reporters and journalists hiding around his house.

She felt the wards give and pushed the door open. She'd never come on a Saturday before. The illusion of a homey routine was broken by what felt far too much like and intrusion on his privacy. She canceled her spell and headed into the kitchen out of habit and found him sitting at the table, staring out the window and drinking brandy at two in the afternoon, and from the sluggish movements of his hands, she thought he'd been at it for quite a while. She'd never seen him look so disheveled.

She walked up behind him and stopped.

"Do you ever think about what it would be like?" she asked.

"What what would be like?" he asked his glass.

"That kiss we never shared. From the picture in the paper."

He paused for a long moment before he drained his glass.

"Do you still think about moving to Australia?" he asked in reply, as he reached for the bottle and filled his glass again.

She stood there for a long time staring at the back of his head and watching him drink, before she sighed and went home.

Oof.