Two hours later, Hermione slowly made her way down the stairs from the attic. She was exhausted and so hungry that her stomach hurt. But the shopping had all been put neatly away, Atticus fed and bathed and put to bed. She left the monitoring charm on his bedroom and went in search of desperately needed sustenance.
The kitchen was dark, and Hermione felt along the wall for the light switch. Nothing met her fingers but smooth wall. She moved the other direction, trying to make out more than vague shadows by the pale moonlight. No switch. Frustrated, she reached for her wand. A quick lumos would fix- Her wand was still up in the attic. She groaned aloud in disappointment. There was no way in hades she wanted to trek back up those stairs for it. She had spent some time studying wandless magic, but she wasn't proficient enough to accio her wand from three stories away.
Muttering every curse word she knew – and a few she made up on the spot – she stumbled blindly towards the cabinets and yanked one open. Her hand moved over boxes and bags, not having any clue what they were. Finally, she pulled a jar out and made her peace with having a mystery dinner. Spoils in hand, she moved back towards the table, clipping her hip on the corner of it painfully before she managed to drop down into a chair.
The prospect of searching for cutlery of some kind was daunting, so she stuck her finger in the jar and brought the creamy lump that came out up to her lips. Peanut butter. Well, it wasn't the worst thing she'd made a meal of. She licked her finger clean and scooped out a second dollop. Her throat felt tight and she sniffled a little. But she was not crying. It hadn't been that bad of a day, after all. She hadn't needed to spend any of her own money on the groceries, there was now a full larder at her disposal, and she didn't have to worry about her and Atty being thrown out in the street at any moment. She was just feeling a bit overwhelmed, that was all. She was drained, physically and emotionally.
Despite how difficult things had gotten, Hermione had no regrets. The consequences of mistakes in her youth had been no walk in the park, but she had gotten Atticus from them. And no matter how frustrating being a single parent could be, she had never once wished he hadn't come along. There were times, like now, that she wondered how much easier things could be if she had a partner to help share the load, someone she could rely on, even just someone to share her thoughts with... But if her dating history was any indication, such a dream was a long way out.
Maybe that was for the best. Now that she was living at Snape's – Severus' – house, it wasn't as if she could bring a beau home with her. And besides, if how emotionally depleted she felt at the moment was any indication, she didn't have the energy for a relationship anyhow. A dating embargo was in order, then. It wasn't as if she had wizards lining up to woo her, so she didn't think the change would be much of a loss. She sniffled again, feeling utterly foolish.
So she was a single mother without a home of her own, working a menial job, and no prospects. It could be worse. She could still be in Paris. She shuddered. No, she was far better off as a goddamn glorified maid than back in Paris. So why were her eyes still burning? Foolish, foolish sentiments.
"Lumos."
Hermione jumped and squealed around a finger full of peanut butter. She blinked, trying to see in the sudden, soft light.
"Miss Granger?" Snape's deep drawl sent her from panic down to mild dread. "What the devil are you doing?" As he watched, she licked the last of the peanut butter from her finger and looked up guiltily.
"Having dinner."
"In the dark?"
"I couldn't find the light switch," she explained miserably.
"And your wand was not utilized because..." he left the statement dangling.
"I forgot to bring it down with me and didn't want to bother going back up for it."
"So instead you decided that a meal of plain peanut butter, eaten with your fingers, in the dark, by yourself, was a better option?"
Hermione wished his wand was lower so she could see his face. His voice was totally deadpan once more, giving nothing of his emotions away. She was mortified to hear herself sniff again. In an effort to regain some composure, she shrugged. Yes, very poised indeed.
There was a rustling, and then Severus flipped on the light. Once Hermione could see again, she noted it's location. Over the hob. How convenient. Not. The she watched as he pulled a myriad of small boxes from the bags he'd set on the table.
"As appealing as your choice for the evening was, perhaps you won't mind if I offer an alternative?"
"By all means," Hermione agreed, bringing her errant emotions to heel.
"Do you object to Indian takeaway?"
"Not at all." Her mouth was already watering at the idea of curry and naan. "But I don't want to rob you of your own supper."
"I brought back enough for three, actually. I was going to leave some here in stasis for you. Atticus is already in bed?"
"Out till morning. He sleeps like the dead after a busy day like today."
"Then would you care for company, or would you rather continue your meal on your own?"
"I don't mind the company if you don't have other plans."
"None at all." He sat down across from her and began to split up the food. They sat quietly for a few minutes, passing dishes back and forth. When their hands brushed as they both reached for the naan, Severus cleared his throat and broke the silence. "In the future, perhaps it will be easier if I accompany you on shopping trips. It was remiss of me not to show you the village today. Between the items I requested and your own errands, you must have had your hands full."
"Next time it won't be nearly as stressful," she assured him. "It's always hardest getting the first round of supplies. I think perhaps I let stress get the better of me today. It won't happen again." One day on the job and he already thought she needed help? It wasn't a good sign.
"I understand if you are having some difficulty settling in, Hermione. I wasn't doubting your abilities; merely offering my assistance."
"You've already done more to help me out that I had any right to ask," she said softly. "But I appreciate your offer and I will take you up on it if I need."
That seemed to placate him. There was another stretch of silence, interrupted only by the sound of their cutlery. "I am surprised, despite your extenuating circumstances, that you found yourself in such straits," Severus finally said. Hermione stared at the curry on her plate, not sure if she was willing to explain any more than he already knew. Before she could think better of it, though, the words were tripping off her tongue.
"I assume you know that I got married not long after graduating," she started, seeing him nod from the peripheral of her vision. "It was a rash decision. I allowed myself to be swept off my feet and get caught up in my first real romance. Before I knew it, I had left behind my home, my friends, my whole life, to start over in France with my husband. I was taking courses at the University in Paris. We had an... understanding... that after I graduated, we would return to Great Britain so I could start work at the Ministry. Things... didn't go as planned. Two and a half years ago I left France without my husband.
"Most of my friends had moved away and started families of their own. The years I had spent isolated came back to haunt me. My education was very specifically suited to a career that was no longer open to me. Minerva was the one who helped me get work researching for an Arithmancy paper. It was the perfect solution until the paper was abruptly concluded, and at the same time, my landlord found that he needed his flat back. The one I was in that you saw, in Kittering, was a temporary place well above my budget, but it was the only decent place I could find on short notice. If I had been on my own, I could have found a tenement in London or just stayed in that ratty tent we used while hunting horcruxes. But I couldn't put Atty in a situation like that."
"Why did you not seek financial assistance from your former husband? As the mother of his child, surely you are entitled to aid."
"I have no intention of contacting him for anything. Ever." The finality in her tone made Severus drop the subject. Obviously things had not ended well between them. His stomach twisted at the thought that maybe she had been abused in some way, but he pushed it away. She was Hermione bloody Granger. Brightest witch of her age, brains of the Golden Trio, woman who had dared defy the Dark Lord at every turn. The idea of her letting a man push her around was laughable. Still, something had to have happened to make her feel so vehemently about not having any contact with him again. Especially when it could have made life easier for her child.
Hermione was glad that Severus didn't push her for more information. It was the most she'd ever spoken to someone about her situation, and while she was glad that she had told him, she wasn't ready to share any more. "What have you been doing since the war ended?" she asked lightly.
"Brewing, mostly. Research as well. Despite my exodus in disgrace from the school, I have been invited on more than one occasion to return. The likelihood of that is about as much as Hagrid suddenly becoming a master baker, though."
"Did you really hate teaching so much?" On this, she was genuinely curious. Despite his rather coarse methods, Professor Snape had been an exceptional teacher. It was always obvious, though, that he disliked his post.
"Becoming a professor was not my choice. I was ill suited for the position from the start, and years as a spy only worsened my disdain. Passing on knowledge to those who wish to learn, to those with the predisposition to retain it, is no hardship. But that was perhaps one or two students out of several hundred. The rest of my time was spent keeping terrified frog-huggers from blowing themselves up, and reading long-winded essays from over intelligent swots." He gave her a knowing smirk. Hermione felt herself laugh at his good natured barb.
"You shouldn't be so hard on Neville," she chided. "I hear he has become quite the Herbologist."
"Far be it from me to criticize the boy. I'm quite fond of him now, if you can believe that." He chuckled softly at Hermione's shocked expression. "He killed that bloody snake. Even if he blows up a hundred more cauldrons, I shall forever have a soft spot for him."
"And here I didn't think you had any soft spots at all," she teased. His expression grew somewhat mocking.
"Don't you read the papers, woman? According to the gossip rags, I am made up entirely of soft spots, held together with bubble gum and kittens."
Hermione laughed again. "No one who has known you for any length of time would believe such a fallacy. You might not be quite the impervious titan we all thought you before, but surely being a man is better than being a legend."
"Impervious titan?" One raven brow lifted. "Why Miss Granger, that might be the most charitable description anyone has ever given of my mien as a professor."
"Surely not."
"Have no doubt of it," he returned. "Even after my exoneration, there were not many nice words linked to my time teaching. Not that I blame them. I played my role very well, and likely neither of us would be here now if I hadn't."
"I imagine you're right," Hermione agreed. Since she didn't know what else to say, she changed the subject. "I thought tomorrow I would get started on giving the house a good once over from top to bottom. Would you like me to leave your room be for now?" He was sure to notice the non sequitur, but she didn't care. The ease with which he discussed the past, accepted his actions as both right and necessary, unnerved her. She carried so much deeply buried guilt over things that happened during the war and then after, that it was hard for her to understand how he seemed to have moved past things so easily. Yes, he had said it had taken him years to reach that point, but Hermione felt that her guilt would never go away.
"Yes, that would be wise. Was there enough money for all the things you needed to buy today?" He ignored her change of topic, as if sensing she was uncomfortable.
"More than. I put the remainder in the jar on the mantle."
"Good. Do not be afraid to use it if you discover something else the house needs."
"I won't." Once more silence fell between them. Suddenly, Hermione felt the exhaustion of the day weighing on her heavily. She barely stifled her yawn as she gathered up their plates. "I think it's time for me to get some sleep. Thank you for the food. And the light. And the company." She flashed him a tired smile.
"The pleasure was mine, I assure you." When she moved to take their dishes to the sink, he stopped her. "Leave this to me. I'm sure you'll do enough cleaning after me in the coming days." She put down the dishes but paused, uncertain. He shooed her away. "Off to bed with you. Much later and I will be tempted to deduct house points for you being out past curfew."
"No detention?" she asked with a laugh.
"You have signed yourself on to three months of live-in detention. I doubt there is more I can do on that score."
Hermione scoffed. "If this had been what all your detentions were like, I doubt any student would have been inclined to behave in your class." She turned and went through the door. "Fortunately for you, the dungeons were freezing," she called back.
