A/N - this is my first attempt delving into the Snamione ship - be gentle with me! I have pretty much the whole story mapped out (in my head) but I'll get it written as quickly as real life allows.
These characters belong wholly to JK Rowling
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The brightness of the morning sun bursting over the horizon was deceptive, Hermione pulled her dressing gown tighter around her in an attempt to fend off the chill. She turned her attention to the cup of coffee cradled in her hands and took a large sip, sighing contently as the warmth spread round her body. She loved the peace of the early mornings, if she'd been that way inclined she could imagine it might be nice to go for a run - work up an appetite before breakfast. As it was, she was perfectly happy sitting on the sofa, feet tucked underneath her to keep warm, with the heavy weight of a book on her lap.
Her alarm had gone off usual time that morning, but sleep had evaded her for most of the night anyway with her racing thoughts. The anxiety didn't abate through the morning even though she swapped her normal coffee for a green tea, not wanting the caffeine to heighten her shakes. She focused her mind to concentrate on her senses, what could she see, smell and hear? It was something her therapist taught her after the war as a way to ground her thoughts during a panic attack.
She watched as the sunlight danced on the dew drops in the grass, smelt the earthy aroma from her tea, and listened to the morning chorus of the birds. Her father would have loved this house, she thought, imagining his excitement trying to spot each species of bird. He'd always been a keen birdwatcher, had tried desperately to instill the same passion in her as a child - but whilst she didn't mind being out in nature, she much preferred to lose herself in a book than take in the world around her. She was making a conscious effort to change that now, promising to enjoy what he couldn't.
The tea slowly went cold in the mug still cradled in her hands as the clock ticked towards 8.00. Though she had fully cleaned the house from top to bottom yesterday her fingers itched to do it again, if only to pass the time until it was time to get dressed. And on that subject, panic started to set in about what she'd decided to wear even though it had been the sole topic of conversation with Ginny for weeks. For all her "book smarts" she had come to realise that there were things that just couldn't be found in books, and this was one such thing. She knew what he would think when he saw her and she didn't want her outfit choice to give off the wrong impression. She wasn't the child he likely remembered- though truth be told a lot of her personality traits remained; she still craved praise and would often be found with her head buried in a book. But now she had a successful career, owned a beautiful house (that she was very proud of) and she wanted her look to reflect that.
After a lengthy hot shower Hermione dressed in the chosen outfit and set about fixing her hair and make-up for the day. She settled on just a small amount of mascara and a neutral lipstick before standing to look at herself in the full length mirror. Never usually one to worry about her appearance, or indeed what people thought about her, today she was a bundle of nerves. Did she look too young? Was her makeup too minimalistic?
XxX
Severus Snape took in the reflection staring back at him from the mirror. Having not been afforded the luxury of seeing himself for the last 5 years he wasn't sure what he'd be greeted with. His hair remained much the same length, it had been hacked shorter using blunt scissors whenever he'd complained about its growth. And he'd never had much success with facial hair so there was no beard but a little stubble, more than he'd managed before in his life. But what did shock him (even though it wasn't unexpected) was the stark weight loss. He'd not been a large man to begin with, so the years of malnourishment had taken their toll. His ribs and his hip bones protruded to be far more visible than they should. His pale skin had also, somewhat unbelievably, gotten paler - if that was even possible.
A mediwitch with a kind face entered the room and gave him a gentle smile.
"Believe it or not, but I've seen people in far worse condition than you after a stint in Azkaban. Your weight is down, of course, and we've detected some anaemia but that can all be rectified now you'll undoubtedly be eating better," the witch said.
She then handed him a couple of vials of potion to take.
"The first is an anti-sickness, we don't want your stomach to protest against the food we so desperately need to get in you, even if we start with bland food. The second is just a multivitamin potion, an attempt to try and give you a boost. Once you have absorbed the potions I'll return with some food for you, chicken sandwich OK?"
He nodded in affirmation, passing the vials under his nose to confirm the potions. A contented moan almost escaped his mouth, it had been such a long time since he inhaled the scent of a potion - but he remembered his company and covered the moan with a gentle cough to clear his throat. Happy the potions were what they claimed to be, he downed both, barely grimacing at the taste.
"Why am I here?" Severus asked. But instead of his baritone, intimidating voice the words escaped in a mere whisper.
The witch noticed his alarm. "You sustained a significant wound and your vocal cords are out of practice- your voice should return almost to normal the more you talk."
Once the mediwitch returned with his sandwich, she was accompanied by a stocky gentleman from the Auror department. Looking at Severus with a look of utter disdain he handed him a scroll.
This contract details the conditions of the release of the prisoner 5469, Mr Severus Tobias Snape (henceforth referred to as the Prisoner) under the Rehabilitation Act 2003.
In line with the Rehabilitation Act, the Prisoner meets both eligibility criteria
1 - having served longer than 50 percent of his total sentence time.
2 - an appropriate Guardian has nominated themselves to oversee the continued rehabilitation.
Said Guardian has been approved by the ministry, confirmed as an upstanding member of the wizarding community with no current or previous convictions. The guardian has committed to offering lodgings and employment to the Prisoner for the duration of the rehabilitation.
The ministry will continue to monitor the Prisoner, and if it is deemed that sufficient progress is not being made, or the Prisoner is felt to pose a risk to the public, they reserve the right to terminate this contract and the Prisoner will be returned to Azkaban to complete the original sentence.
Feeling somewhat conflicted and unsure how he felt at what he'd just read he scanned the remainder of the document. To seal the contract 3 people needed to sign and print their names - the first section completed by the Minister for Magic. Kingsley Shacklebolt. Hmm, Severus mused to himself, not entirely surprising. He was the member of the order Severus could tolerate the best, a competent Wizard with a cool head.
His eyes darted to the signature in the Guardian section. He need not read the name printed adjacent to the signature. Years of essay marking had led him to be quite the expert in handwriting, and this neat scripture was unmistakable. He knew it well as it often accompanied essays that would have been slightly more tolerable had they not been twice the required length.
Hermione Granger.
