A/N: This is a transitional chapter, dear readers. Hang in there. We had a bit of business to take care of before things get more...well, interesting (to say the least). Next chapter will be ready very soon.

-slbb

"Hermione."

She looked up from the Daily Prophet's gossip column. "Hmm?"

"It is clear that I will not be a guest at the Hogwarts Infirmary very much longer," Severus said levelly.

"Not if Poppy has her way," she teased, setting the paper aside.

He huffed a laugh. "Fair enough. But you must realize by now that I am quite accustomed to getting my own way," he said mischievously.

Hermione raised an eyebrow and glanced over at his half eaten dinner tray. "Really? Did you order your own dinner tonight, or did Poppy order for you?"

"Regardless of who chose my dinner," he replied a bit sourly, "I need to plan for my departure. At some time in the next several days, Poppy will confirm that I have recovered enough strength to Apparate. Should I…complete the test successfully," he said, twisting his lips into a sneer, "I will be released from her care." She looked at him curiously. "As I will not resume my position as Headmaster, once I leave the infirmary, I am in need of a permanent residence. Therefore, I would like to purchase a cottage," he stated, "in Hogsmeade."

She just smiled. "How can I help?"

"You can locate an appropriate one and buy it on my behalf."

"Oh."

"I've arranged for a member of Gringotts staff to meet with me here early tomorrow morning. Should you agree to assist me, I will name you as my representative and complete the necessary paperwork stating as much. Once I submit the documents, you will be able to purchase and sign the Note of Transfer for a property in my stead."

"I don't know what to say," Hermione whispered.

He raised an eyebrow. "Truly, Hermione, I'm sending you on a tiresome errand. You should say, 'bugger off'."

She looked him in the eye. "Thank you for trusting me to find you a home."

"And thank you for agreeing to search for one for me." Severus paused for a moment. "The goblin I'm working with will introduce you to a broker who will locate properties for you to review. I require a garden area and a work room for brewing potions. I prefer a well-appointed kitchen, although that can be enhanced later should need be. It may be difficult to find one with modern amenities in Hogsmeade."

"True."

"Above all things, I value privacy. Therefore, I want a secluded—if not isolated—homestead. A far pace from the village, if at all possible."

"Certainly."

"And, Hermione…" He hesitated. "Ensure that it has space enough for two to live comfortably." He cleared his throat. "Should I need to sell it, it would be easier to do so if it has more space, of course."

"Of course." She blushed in spite of herself, and changed the subject. "What is your budget?"

"You need not concern yourself with a budget," Severus said evenly.

"Well then, I don't have to concern myself with playing the National Lottery then for you, do I?" she teased. "I do have some Muggle newspapers with me that list future winning numbers, you know."

He chuckled. "Imagine what that would do to the timeline."

"Glorious things, from my point of view."

"So you say." He regarded her curiously. "From your responses, I see that I accomplished my goal."

"Of finding a cottage? Yes."

"And I also see from the look on your face that you have already seen it."

"I have," she said. "And I'll secure it for you as soon as I have the paperwork in hand."

Hermione was curled up in her bed in Grimmauld Place, thoughts too full for her to sleep quite yet. Severus had given her a copy of the paperwork naming her as his representative. She unrolled the parchment once again to reveal Severus's pointy script.

I, Severus Tobias Snape, hereby declare that Hermione Jean Granger may act on my behalf in any capacity whatsoever in regards to the purchase of a residence in my stead. She is fully authorized to make any and all decisions in regards to said purchase, including the hiring of a facilitator, the negotiations to purchase said property, and the arrangement of the transfer of funds to secure said property.

She was still stunned. This simple parchment in her hand said things to her he had not: she had earned his trust. Had he ever trusted someone with any of his personal affairs? What did it mean for him? For them, if anything?

Hermione thought back to her jealousy of Natasha Avery. Even if Severus's interest in Natasha was feigned, it still hurt to witness it. But would she prefer? Severus fawning over her—insincerely, as he did with Natasha—or the letter in her hand? There was really no question, was there?

Tonight she would buy him his home. And she tried not to think about what it might be like to live with him there.

Hermione explained to the Gringotts goblin yet again that she did not require a broker, thank-you-very-much, since she already knew which property she would like to purchase on Master Snape's behalf. Yes, she was certain this particular property matched Master Snape's requirements. And yes, she realized how irregular it was to purchase a property after only viewing one.

"I would like to purchase this one, Grukluk," Hermione repeated. "This one."

"Very well, Miss Granger," he responded, sounding doubtful. "I must remind you that there are much grander properties in this area that on the market."

"I understand. But this one will do nicely."

"This will fulfil Master Snape's requests?"

"Yes, it will," she said, annoyed at the line of questions.

"All of his requirements?" asked the goblin.

"Yes, Grukluk." Hermione sighed. Hadn't the paperwork specified that she was authorized to make all the decisions regarding this purchase?

"Perhaps you should review other properties in the area before purchasing this one."

"No, thank you. This one will be fine."

"A decision of this magnitude must not be made in haste, Miss Granger." Hermione rolled her eyes. She was beginning to understand why her Potions Master had called this a tiresome errand.

Later that evening, Hermione opened the door to Severus's private room to find that he was reading the Daily Prophet. He looked up when she entered.

"Grukluk owled me. It sounds as if you secured a cottage," he said.

"I think you will find that it suits your needs. Beyond that, I think you will actually like it," she said and smiled as she placed her bag on the floor.

"Nearly impossible to imagine," he said with a smirk. "Did you enjoy working with Grukluk?"

"I wouldn't necessarily describe it as 'enjoy'."

"Did he have difficulty accepting your decision?"

"You could say that," she said as she settled herself in her chair.

Severus chuckled. "I tried to warn you." He folded the paper and put it down. "Minerva had the Hogwarts house elves pack my quarters and workroom. My belongings will be delivered early tomorrow morning."

"May I set them out for you? Unpack them and get the cottage ready for you?"

"I will have the house elves set out the household goods, if you would wouldn't mind unpacking the remainder, I would appreciate it." He hesitated. "Hermione…"

"Yes…?" she said, glancing up from rummaging through her backpack.

"I think you should stay at the cottage during the day instead of Grimmauld. There will be virtually no chance that you will run into your past self there, or anyone else. You can ward the entire property. It will be a safe place for you when I can't watch over you."

She smiled. "Thank you, Severus. That is…it would be wonderful."

"Make yourself comfortable there. When I am released from the infirmary, you will need to find somewhere else to go for a few hours during the day because I suspect you will be there at that time."

"I will. But that will only be for a week. Then I'll have caught up to myself."

"True."

The following day, Hermione opened the door to Severus's cottage to find all the furniture, lamps, and rugs already in place. The two built-in bookshelves in the sitting room were mostly filled; the drapes were hung. The sight of the familiar chocolate brown leather couch, the mahogany tables, and the emerald green curtains filled her with warmth. It felt like she had come home.

"Hello, miss." A house elf she didn't know scurried towards her and bowed deeply.

"Hello. I'm Hermione Granger."

"Thank you, miss. You is known to us. You is Headmaster's Special Miss. I am Bolpy."

She chuckled at her title. "A pleasure to meet you, Bolpy. Are there any more of Professor Snape's belongings to be unpacked and put away?"

"Yes, miss. We have them. They is the things Headmaster Snape instructed us to leave for his Special Miss."

The house elf left the sitting room momentarily and returned with three small bags in hand, presumably both modified with the Undetectable Extension charm. "Thank you," Hermione said, setting them aside for later, after the house elves were gone. She wandered around the cottage's sitting room, smiling and content.

"Where would you like these, miss?" asked another house elf, holding up several wall hangings.

"Wherever you think best."

"Thank you, miss."

Hermione drifted into the kitchen. Bolpy stepped into the small room and bowed. "Miss, we is done."

"Thank you. You may leave when you see fit. I will inform Professor Snape that you have finished."

"Thank you, miss. We look forward to serving the Headmaster and Headmaster's Special Miss." And the house elves left one by one with resounding CRACKS.

Hermione sat down on the leather couch and began inspecting the first of the three bags Bolpy had given her. The contents weren't surprising: several hundred books of every imaginable type, including rare and old volumes, presumably too precious for the elves to handle. She placed them in the space in the bookshelves in the sitting room, in the appropriate sections of his library, by subject then author.

In the second bag, Hermione found his personal items: shampoo, comb, and razor; his clothes; a collection of wands rolled up in a leather wand-keeper; two small framed photographs; and a locked box, approximately the size of a textbook. It wasn't much. She wondered how many people would have so few personal belongings.

Hermione moved to the master bedroom and sat down on the bed to examine the photographs. The first was of a tall woman with Severus's dark eyes and a boy of perhaps seven or eight: Severus and his mother, she supposed. He was holding her hand and waving emphatically into the camera. The woman smiled softly and periodically looked down at her son.

The second was a picture of Lily Evans.

She eyed it curiously. She hadn't seen many photos of Harry's mum, but yes, indeed, he shared her eyes. Lily was very young in the photo, maybe a third or fourth year student. She was dressed in Gryffindor robes and smiling shyly into the camera. Hermione wasn't jealous to discover that Severus had kept a photo of Lily; instead, it felt bittersweet. She laid the photograph aside.

Next, she withdrew his clothes one by one from the bag. She chuckled. Each one of his robes, dress robes, overcoats, frock coats, and dress pants were exactly the same as all of the others—and jet black. Undershirts, underpants, socks—all black as well. Peering around in the bag, she also discovered a handful of exquisitely tailored white dress shirts that stood out against the dark. He owned a collection of destroyed denims, faded t-shirts (she chuckled at the ancient Led Zepplin shirt), two belts, and several pairs of both motorcycle and dragon hide boots, trainers, and…a swimsuit? But that was all.

With a furtive—albeit unnecessary—glance around the bedroom, she brought one of the frock coats close and took a deep breath. Ah, parchment…freshly mown grass…and sandalwood.

She placed the locked box on his dresser with the photographs, one on either side.

The third bag contained a sealed note addressed to her:

Hermione,

This box contains the contents of my potions workroom. Please be extraordinarily careful with some of the jars as the contents are rare or poisonous. I trust that you will be able to alphabetize them without too much difficulty.

-SS

She could imagine his velvet voice saying I trust that you will be able to alphabetize them without too much difficulty as his lips twisted into a perfect huffed a laugh. Her Potions Master…sarcastic as ever.

By the time Hermione finished unpacking the contents of Severus's potions room and putting them away, it was midafternoon and she was dirty and tired. Hermione looked around. There was still a lot she wanted to do. She dusted herself off, Apparated to a favourite alleyway near Camden Garden Centre, and made her way inside.

"Excuse me?" she said, once she located a store employee.

"Yes, miss?"

"I'm interested in purchasing these potted herbs," Hermione said, handing the clerk her list. "Would you show me where they are?"

"Certainly. This way."

"Here's the Agrimony and Herb Bennet," he said indicating the plants on the racks, "and here's the Roseroot and Valerian. We're out of Sanicle right now."

"No problem."

"I only have Centaury, Henbane, and Weld in seed form, no plants."

"That's fine. I'll take the seeds."

Hermione Apparated back to the cottage, thankful for the warm afternoon sunlight. She donned some older denims she had stashed in her bag and set about deciding where in the garden to plant the seedlings.

How she missed Severus today. She could just imagine him sitting on the stone bench watching her, a slow smile in his dark eyes. What will he say once he discovers what she'd been doing? Will he be angry that she had presumed to plant in his new garden? Did she choose the right varieties? And the right places for them? What if he preferred the Valerian on the west side?

She took a deep breath. Get ahold of yourself, Hermione. You're being a tad ridiculous. He won't care what side of the garden the Valerian is on. Besides, Severus can always move it later.

Severus. She smiled as she began digging the holes for the Roseroot. Her Potions Master. And, according to the house elves, she was his Special Miss. Hmmm…Master Snape and His Special Miss…Master and Mrs. Severus Snape…Mrs. Hermione Snape…They all resonated nicely, didn't they? Her Potions Master would look delicious with a ring on his finger. Her ring. She huffed a laugh. At nearly twenty years old—according to those bureaucrats at the Ministry anyway—she was not past daydreaming about a future husband, like some lovesick schoolgirl. Next she'd be doodling his name on the margin of a notebook. Merlin, imagine what he'd say if he happened upon that?

I'm out of my bloody mind. He will never bond me. Stop thinking about it and concentrate on planting the seedlings, Hermione. But if a bonding wasn't in the future for her and her Potions Master, what would happen between them?

This—whatever this was—was no one-sided schoolgirl crush. She was in love with him. And every signal he had given her screamed they would only get closer once he left the infirmary. At the least, they would become lovers very, very soon. What would it be like to share his bed? His hands tangled in her hair, his skin on hers, his lean body pressing down on hers…but would she even be here in the spring to see the results of today's hard work? Or would he dismiss her when he grew tired of her company? Or when he discovered she had no experience to call on to please him?

Well, she supposed, she would never catch up to Severus's experience with members of the opposite sex. And as far as Lily Potter was concerned, she forced herself to take Severus at his word: he said he loved her, not that he loves her. What was that trite Muggle saying? There's more room in a broken heart? Besides, how ridiculous would it be to be jealous of someone on the other side of the veil?

Merlin, her thoughts were a jumbled mess. She needed a diversion. Of course. She knew just the right thing to distract her. "Expecto Patronum," she muttered, pointing her wand toward the green between the garden and the back door of the cottage. To her infinite surprise, the mist that erupted from her wand did not form her familiar otter. Instead, a large silver cat peered back at her knowingly. She gasped. Sweet Merlin, what on earth had happened to her otter? "Well, look at you," she said to her Patronus. "Pleasure to meet you, bobcat."

In response, the bobcat padded over to her, brushed up against her legs, and curled up to rest in the dirt.

Tonks' Patronus had changed from a jackrabbit to a wolf when she fell in love with Remus. Could hers have changed for the same reason? If that was true, why a bobcat? Shouldn't it be some type of a deer, or, Sweet Merlin help her, a kind of snake?

She smiled at the bobcat curled up nearby. Perhaps after every tragedy she endured from the war, every wound left on her soul, all the playfulness in her magic was gone.

The sun was starting its slow decent toward the horizon, so she set about getting more dirt under her fingernails.

By the time Hermione arrived at the infirmary, Severus was already asleep, Beethoven softly emanating from her wireless. She warded the door behind her and curled up beside him in the warm bed. She felt him shift to line her back with his chest and threaded her fingers in his.

"Goodnight, angel," he murmured.

"Goodnight, Severus," she whispered and closed her eyes to sleep next to the man she loved.