Hermione lay in bed that night, thinking just how unexpected Snape was. One minute he was cutting her with his sharp words, and the next he was being so gentle and intense at the same time.
She tried to sleep, but all she could see in her mind were his eyes, alight with some emotion she couldn't fathom. In the space of a few minutes he turned her from self loathing and remorse to a curiosity and lightness that she didn't understand.
In those few minutes her heart would have thudded out of her chest, and she had been overcome with a fear of a new kind.
It was hard to reconcile this man with Jonathan as she had first seen him. But with a start, she realised she hadn't yet asked the Professor how he had managed to hold up the enchantment for so long, potion or otherwise.
Truth be told, in the excitement that followed, and her discovery of Snape, she had forgotten about Jonathan, and her mind had been concentrated on Snape.
She touched her now bare arm where he had held her, and felt that familiar tingle. She thought it was wrong that she thought of him so much, that she shouldn't be.
He was Snape, for crying out loud! One minute of kindness didn't mean that he was suddenly going to turn Dumbledore.
But that one minute of kindness showed her that under that prickly exterior, there was a gentle soul. She thought back on all the memories she had seen from his mind.
His nobility, his love for Lily that was still strong, his need to always do what was right when it mattered. His immeasurable sacrifice.
The man was the most honourable of men she had the pleasure to meet.
Hermione sighed. Even if Snape had polyjuiced into someone, the manner he had treated could not be created, and pretending to be charming was not possible without the actual charm within.
Hermione remembered the disappointment on Jonathan's face in the end, she remembered the smile, and the rich deep laugh. She had been highly attracted to Jonathan, but he was the same man she had known in another cruel form.
It was just so difficult to try and combine these two incredibly opposite men, and bring up Snape's face.
She wished she had a mirror into Snape's soul. She wanted to know more about him, but she didn't want to impose on him any more than she already was.
She brought up his face in the hallway, shadows obscuring half of it, expressionless except for the intense look in his eyes. What made him open himself up just a little bit, to show that gesture of kindness?
It was as if he didn't realise he was being so gentle, when he jerked back his hand from her face. He must have run a little if he took the time to understand why she had babbled and bolted.
He had made it clear that he didn't mind her being around, yet he had not reached out in friendship.
And she was strangely happy to be back working with him; she realised with a pang, despite his barbed speech and scathing remarks, he had entrusted her with a great deal of sensitive information.
He might even trust her a little.
The thought startled Hermione. Severus Snape was not a man who trusted easily.
She was now very determined to earn more of his trust and his respect. Hermione would respect his boundaries, but that wouldn't stop her from trying to get him to reach out a little more.
Hermione smiled and settled to sleep. Tomorrow would be a brand new day.
Hermione stepped into the Floo in nervous apprehension. How would he react today? Would he behave as if nothing happened?
In reality, nothing had happened, but Hermione's disquiet brain refused to brush it off as a non-occurrence.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the Floo, and was whisked away into her own wonderland.
The living room was empty when she arrived, and she headed straight to the work room; perhaps he was there.
She was vaguely disappointed when she didn't find him at his desk, and hesitated a few moments before she headed to his usual practical work area, only to find it empty.
She decided he must have stepped out for some work, and went to her desk, where her packed bag still stood against the chair. Unpacking and re-arranging her desk, she buried her head into the unfinished file.
Her furious scribbling was interrupted rather violently when she heard a crash from the living room, which made her drop the file she was working on, and splatter ink all over the sheet.
"Shit!" She muttered and cleaned up the mess as soon as she could, before heading to the living room to see what it was about. She heard a few more crashes and hurried to investigate, wand withdrawn; perhaps someone was causing trouble?
Drawing in a breath, she threw open the door to the living room, only to duck in haste when a glass jar came flying toward her.
She cast a shield to protect her from the broken glass and crouched low, before standing up and facing the troublemaker.
Which happened to be a very irate Snape, standing with his arms crossed, looking for all the world like a petulant teenager in the middle of a temper tantrum.
Had the situation not been quite serious, Hermione would have laughed, but one does not laugh at an angry Snape and live to tell about it.
Dumbledore had come to see what that noise was as well, and was watching silently from his chair. Hermione swallowed the smile at the grave look Dumbledore wore.
"Is everything alright?"
"Of course, everything is just peachy!" Snape snapped at her.
"I can see that," she said, a bit annoyed, "what happened?"
"None of your…" Snape was cut off by Dumbledore.
"Just a minor disagreement with the Ministry, my dear, nothing serious."
"Minor?" Snape sputtered, "Nothing serious? Have you gone mad?"
"Calm down Severus, there is nothing much you can do about it!"
"Well I can bloody well hex the witless nincompoop!"
"And go to prison? Now who's mad?"
"But Albus! An Inquiry? On me??"
"What?" Hermione interrupted, "why would they want to conduct an inquiry on you?"
"Apparently, Ms. Granger, since you are so fond of butting your nose in my business," Hermione ignored the barb, "they think that the seal's authenticity is in question."
"Well we can prove that it is indeed authentic, and worthy of it's reputation?" Hermione inquired, frowning in thought.
"It's not that simple, my dear," Dumbledore shook his head, "they want to see the details of the charm."
"That's ridiculous!" Hermione exploded, "that would mean leaving the charm bare to scrutiny, and by extension, possible piracy!"
"Piracy?" Snape asked, puzzled, "does it mean something similar to plagiarism and unauthorised usage and reproduction?"
"Err, yes, it's a muggle term."
"Ah, I see," Snape looked at her, "much as I loathe admitting it, you are right Ms. Granger."
Hermione felt a small wave of happiness before coming back to the situation at hand, "We have to do something!"
"We, Ms. Granger?" Snape canted an eyebrow, "this is not your fight."
"I want to make it my fight! Besides, I would hate to see someone's hard work be stolen like that! The miserable arses."
Snape's lips curled a little on one side, he was amused at her vehemence. "Indeed Ms. Granger, but this will not be easy."
"I know, Professor," she looked at him shyly, "but I want to help."
He looked at her a few moments and then turned to the portrait, "Very well. Albus, you say they will be protected against memory charms, how so?"
"Well, during the war, Messrs. Fred and George, oh by the way, I heard Fred's portrait is wreaking havoc in our side of the portrait world," Albus chuckled and Hermione smiled sadly. George had never really gotten over Fred's death.
"I would expect nothing less of the boy," Snape spoke, and Hermione was surprised to find that his tone was kindly.
"Anyway," Albus interrupted their thoughts, "Messrs. Weasley created some sort of battle armour for the ministry, which included hats that protected against such enchantments on the mind."
Snape was thoughtful; At length, he nodded and spoke, "which means they would have done a good job of it."
"Can't we just lie to them about certain important details?"
"No, Ms. Granger, they will use verity charms, they make up for their incompetence with verity charms," Snape answered sullenly, and Dumbledore nodded in confirmation.
"Perhaps if we could all sit down and take tea, it might calm our thoughts and do us good."
"What is it with you plying tea at the drop of a hat? Tea doesn't solve anything, Albus."
"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore twinkled, "what do you suggest instead?"
"I believe in the powers of Glenfiddich," replied said wizard, and crossed his hands across his chest.
"I'll take tea, thanks," Hermione smiled and called the elf; she asked for tea and Snape asked for a bottle and one of his crystal snifters.
They were all quite and Snape seemed particularly pensive while working out how to keep the ministry from sniffing too deep.
Hermione worried, which was quite natural for her, but the fact that Snape seemed so out of sorts, worried her; Snape was never the one to "lose his cool" as they said.
"Professor, I hate to interrupt," Hermione started meekly, and looked up with a frown, "this may seem trivial, but won't they be able to recognise your magic? Like they check the wands at the Ministry?"
"Ms. Granger, have you ever wondered how I managed to appear for the setup of the enterprise and get away with it?"
She hadn't. "I didn't really think about it," she added sheepishly.
Snape almost seemed amused. Wow, he must really un-clench with Glenfiddich, Hermione thought.
"Well, it seems then, that either I managed to fool the magic sensor, or," he paused and waited to see if she caught on.
"Or, your magic has changed!" Hermione was stunned! She had never thought that was possible.
"Ah, there might be hope for you yet," he swallowed the rest of the liquid, and winced a little as the liquid burned on its way down.
"How did that happen?"
"Well, it has happened before, with the Dark Lord," he gave a distinctly sly smile that made her uncomfortable.
"But you haven't turned..."
"Snakelike?"
"Well, I was going to say evil, but they work out the same."
"How can you be sure I haven't turned evil?"
"Well, I'm still alive."
"Maybe I'm fattening you up, so to speak?"
Dumbledore cringed in his seat, and Snape spared him a cruel look.
"No, I know you haven't."
"You know? Turning into a seer, are you?" he sneered.
"Absolutely not!" Snape was surprised at her vehemence; of course he was not aware of Hermione's intense dislike for Divination and the sorts.
"I just know, because," Hermione looked into his eyes, "you are not the kind to turn evil, and I know you have had your share of dealing with darkness."
"Darkness has a strange allure, Ms. Granger," he said in an almost reverent tone, "it draws one like the moth to the flame, and it mesmerises you until you cannot deny it's power flowing through you. It is then your soul burns and you turn into nothing more than an empty husk, hoping for the death that won't come and fearing it even more. It is a half life, but only for those who can feel anything more than the greed of power."
He paused near the window and looked out into the afternoon garden; Hermione was captivated with the way he spoke; it was as if he revered the Dark side of Magic, but it made sense to her.
"What was it that you felt more than the greed?"
He seemed to snap out of a trance, and looked sharply toward her, "do not ask such questions, Ms. Granger," he said in a stern tone, and Hermione was contrite.
"Professor, " she wanted to change the topic back to the original, "you are going to be disguised again I suppose, so you will, err..." she coloured a bit, "go as him then?"
"Be more specific than 'him' Ms. Granger," he sounded tired.
"Err.. as Jonathan?"
"Yes."
"How do you manage to stay as him for so long? Did you extend the life of polyjuice? Or use high power glamour?"
"I can stay as Jonathan as long as anyone wants me to," he sounded so smug, Hermione wanted to smack him.
"How did you do it?" She asked a tad irritated.
"And why should I tell you?"
"Because I will keep asking you till you do, or I'll bounce theory after theory until I either find out or you tell me just to shut me up," now she sounded smug, but that was alright, wasn't it?
Snape shook his head, and Hermione thought she saw the beginnings of a smile, and she was happy, at least he wasn't worrying.
It was strange, this harmony between them, Hermione thought as she watched Snape's profile in the window, but she was somehow calmed by him and agitated by him. It was strange indeed, that she liked this roller coaster she had associated this 'thing' they had.
Snape sighed, aware of her intense scrutiny, while lost in thought. He didn't really mind her questions, which was a first for him, but he didn't know how to be like others. For so long he had forced himself to remain shut to the world, that now, many years after his miraculous recovery, he still found it hard to answer even the simplest of questions that were even slightly personal in nature.
With a start, Snape realised that he didn't mind her, not one bit, and if he just tried a little harder, the words would flow. He wasn't sure how to take this news, it confused him, and his only shield to confusion was a stony silence.
"I can remain as Jonathan, as you see him, for as long as I like, because Jonathan is what you make him to be. His image is stolen from your mind; he is the one whom you think of as the perfect person. "