"You look incredible," he grabbed her hand at the door and kissed her cheek. She simply looked herself, but he still wanted her to know.
"Don't you dare let Ron hear you. And don't kiss me, you're still not 'out' or whatever. You know what, do whatever you want—you're explaining it though."
"Fair," Harry decided, hanging up his cloak. "So… did you see Malfoy at work today?"
"And DON'T say that either, he'll hear you; he has no idea how much we cross paths in our department. I think I understand your relationship better now: we argue all the time and it gets serious. But it's not really, until it is. And when it gets bad, I'm furious, and I STILL come back for more. He has all these good points, Harry, it's infuriating, except he's completely wrong. And I have to rescue him from his own delusions. Does that make sense?"
"Yes. And does he even know he works in your department yet? I'm still waiting to hear about Ron's indignant confusion."
"Then I will invite him to visit my department so he can watch us rip each other apart. He won't be confused after that."
"I think that'll scare him even more. Best outcome, he'll want to punch him for being shite. Worst outcome, he'll read between the lines. Gamble if you ask me."
"I have nothing to hide. Ron will see him eventually. It's ridiculous, all three of us have ended up at the Ministry. Harry, we don't even like the Ministry! How did this happen? ROOOOON! Harry's here!"
"Great!" Ron peaked his head out from the kitchen. "Oi, Harry, what was that blokes name again, Mundungus' friend?"
"Jeeter. They call him Jeeter."
"Blimey, what kind of name is that? George, I'll tell you, Mundungus has found his soul mate. Two bums if you've ever seen 'em, share cigarettes and everything. Shame is we get so much information from them. They know so many criminals, and if they can't cough up, they know someone who can. AND BAM! Three days later we've got some gem of intel, and Jeeter and Mundungus can still sell their Gringotts Charms: Guaranteed to double your money in your vault in ten years. Simply place the talisman in your vault, don't go in it for a decade, and if you do it right, it'll double your Galleons next time you open it. I tell you, they've managed to sell thousands. It's brilliant, because no one can stop themselves from going into their vault for ten years, and Mundungus might not live for another ten years, because I'm about to strangle him myself."
"Ron, why are you associating with him if he's that awful. Stop doing deals with them!"
"Oi! Harry was there. Tell him off too, why don't you!"
"Harry hasn't even started yet!"
"He tags along half the week!"
"See, theeeeere's your problem!" George interjected with a 5 o' clock cocktail in hand, "You actually expected little Ronnie to be a good Auror. Turns out, he's why people hate the Ministry."
Because the three of them all worked at the same building now, they had a habit of getting together after work, heading over to George's, who now worked from home fulfilling bulk orders and inventing new material. This routine turned out great because George boosted their spirits immensely, especially after dealing with Dark wizard intel all day, but on the downside, he kept making Snape jokes. When Harry entered the room, George checked his neck for hickeys under the pretense of going around to give him a drink. Harry slapped his hand away and gave him a look: you can try, but you're going to have to look lower.
Ron still hadn't put all the pieces together to the affair. It was brilliant—spending every day with him again, Harry missed him, he truly did. Their entire day filled up with laughter amongst some very serious subjects. As well as joking about everything else, he kept quoting Skeeter's article or parroting George's best jokes about it. Harry kept laughing at these but perhaps a little too loud, or his timing was off. Ron seemed pleased at first but after a few weeks his smiles faltered and stared at Harry suspiciously, like he must have missed something. Plus... no one else in their office was laughing.
Hermione was neither supportive nor discouraging, which greatly annoyed Harry.
"So, what does this Jeeter guy look like?" George asked as Harry and Hermione moved to a couch, drinks in hand.
"He looks as if a halfway good-looking bloke got washed up at shore and never recovered. Always looks sweaty for some reason, clothes hanging off 'im. Both of them look so scruffy. Really, I blame the tossers that keep buying the things. How thick do you have to be to buy something from those two?"
"That's not nice Ronnie, blaming the victim! It's your job to protect the public!" George goaded.
"Don't think the public wants protected at this point! Did I tell you about the guy who set fire to his own car, and then blamed it on Dark wizards?"
"How are things?" Hermione asked in a whisper.
"Barely see him, he's still working on the castle day in, day out." Harry said, watching Ron mimic using a fire extinguisher in front of muggles. She pursed her lips, still miffed about the students in the hospital wing.
"I think you have a lot in common!" Harry urged. When Ron launched into telling George the mystery of the Dungbombs in the lift shaft, they moved away to grab some snacks.
"That may be so! But one day, you're going to wake up and realize you're dating Snape. THE Snape. I still think it's a phase. I love you, AND respect him—respect both of you together, but I think you're really going to regret this, Harry. What if I told you I was dating him in our sixth year? Really, what would you say?"
"I'd say you're trying too hard to get that N.E.W.T."
She groaned.
"No really, obviously I'd think you'd gone mental, but if you were together for a full year, I'd assume you'd be having a right good time privately. No one can be all bad 100% of the time. Well… he can be," Harry corrected himself, "he starts to shut up around bedtime though."
"Okay, I get it, he's alright with a wand, but honestly Harry, what do you expect me to think? If you're together for five years, I might change my mind, but I still think you're on the rebound, processing the fallout of... everything."
"I could have rebounded with any bloke or bombshell I wanted!"
"But you have a taste for danger, don't you?"
Harry frowned, really disliking that little comment. "Yeah, I guess I do," he admitted, never thinking that could bleed into his dating life. "But I think I like smart people, and I still think you'd really like him."
"I DO really like him, just not with you, Harry. And if you two hurt each other, which I think is a huge possibility, I'm going to be very mad at you both. He's more sensitive than you are, and you're not even 20. You rushed into this."
"Sensitive? Since when do we describe Snape as sensitive?"
"You know exactly what I mean, and don't pretend you don't!"
"I don't know what you're talking about." He knew exactly what she was talking about. "You two have loads in common: for one—criticizing me and all of my decisions. Two peas in a pod, you are. And both of you are unbelievably smart and fussy. You could probably steal him from me. Should I be worried?" Her nostrils flared at the joke. "Don't do that, he's practically attractive now, if you don't count his face."
"You two are really mean to each other, aren't you?"
"You don't know the half of-"
"Please, not another sex joke. Between you, Ron, and George, I can't handle any more of them. Ron's not half as adventurous as his stupid stories are. You think he would have railed me up the side of the castle with the stupid things he tells his brother. I'm embarrassed for him, actually."
"I should give him 500 Fabulous Fucking Spells for Christmas, then?"
"No, don't. I have a theory George never gave him that book so I wouldn't leave him. I just don't trust his wandwork—he never picks up spells on the first try. ...Is that mean of me?"
"No, it's understandable. Safety first!" he laughed. "The thing is, I trust Snape's wandwork but I don't trust his judgement. I tell him not to do something, so he doesn't, right? But then he goes and does something else! He works around boundaries like they're technicalities."
"See what I mean? How is that sustainable?"
"I don't know. He washes his hair for me, so, you know, give and take."
"He really likes you, Harry. Be careful."
"Stop telling me that."
"I'm serious! He's restarting his life, and I think he's leaning too much into you."
"I don't care!" Harry shot at her. "Look, I know, alright? But you haven't' been around us. Everything's good right now, and the more you bring it up, the more I don't want to tell you if something bad happens. And I want to bounce things off you; I need your opinion on some things. And I don't want to be guarded. Is that alright?"
"Yes, of course it is," and she gave him a reproachful eye. "I want you to trust me. I want you to be able to tell me anything."
"Are you sure you don't want to hear about my sex life? Might give you some ideas," Harry offered, half-joking.
"Oh alright, go on then. But don't get gross—make it spell-specific."
He smiled, not believing his ears. And Harry did give her some very specific spells. Her mouth opened and she did not seem half as disgusted as he thought she'd be. When he finished the first round, she may have even looked intrigued.
"Well, that's not in the book anywhere."
"He says he wrote his own book, can't tell if he's joking though."
From that day forward, Hermione stopped disparaging his relationship so much, and when they met up after work, Ron deep in a laugh with George, Harry would throw out a random spell from the book and she would give him the look. When they were alone, maybe in the yard or having tea in the kitchen, Harry would whisper the full story, happy to have a baited audience.
"Page 114."
"What's page 114?" she whispered.
"Look it up later," Harry laughed.
And she would look it up later and ask the next time: "Harry! How?"
Luckily George and Ron were trying out new exploding fake wands today and Harry could tell her the whole story quite uninterrupted.
"Oi, what are you two talking about over there!"
"Centaur Law, fancy joining in?"
"Blimey, that's boring. George is just about to show us his new joke Quidditch line. Snitch turns to soap and no one can catch it, keeps slipping out of people's fingers. Wanna see?"
"Of course! We're just going to fill up our drinks real quick, over in a minute!"
"You're going to have to tell him," Hermione urged.
"I don't think I have to, thanks. Besides, I think he already knows."
"George knows, and is having a laugh with him—keeps convincing him it's not true. He. Thinks. It's. Hilarious."
"I am in for it, aren't I?"
"Oh yes, and you've dragged me into it. He's pressed me, and I've managed to convince him you're secretly dating Millicent Bulstrode."
"He believed that?"
"Oh yes, I think so."
"No, someone else. Tell him she's half-giant. You know, buff girl. Tank top. Pigtails." They laughed, leaning into each other. This sudden closeness caught Ron's eye.
"Oi! What are you laughing at!"
"They just heard your joke Ron, they're laughing at you. You're getting funnier," George saved.
"Good one mate!" Harry gave a thumbs up.
Hermione nodded encouragingly, full smile.
And Ron went back to telling the story of how he accidentally switched up a witness' Veritaserum with someone's coffee in accounting, and that's how he negotiated his recent raise.
"So, my new favorite one is a twist on a silencing spell," Harry whispered, "cast it, right, and I can't hear myself moan, but he can! He loves it, goes nuts hearing me moan my head off, and I don't have to listen to how stupid my voice sounds. It's brilliant."
She sighed longingly. "I just may ask for it. So we stayed over last month, right? And George hears him moan during, you know… so the next morning George euphorically moans with every bite at breakfast just to mess with him. Ron hasn't moaned since. Men are so dumb. Why is making noise so embarrassing?"
"Well, it's hot when girls do it," Harry explained.
Ron was now trying to catch the Soap Snitch zooming about the sitting room while George cheered him on.
"So, Snape doesn't moan?"
"No, he doesn't. He just… breathes loudly? I think we'll work up to moaning." Hermione stifled a laugh in her hand.
Ron managed to catch the Snitch in a tea towel, looking over to Hermione's and her reaction to his moves… but his face fell, seeing them close and laughing together again. Caught, she got up to join him. "Ron, that was very clever. And that jump from the couch—great form." Ron straightened, looking pleased that she was paying attention after all.
"If you thought that was cool 'Moine, listen to what we did today, I managed to score the best intel we've gotten all month, and it's all because I…"
George switched places with her, coming in for the kill.
"So, how's my favorite teacher?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Come on, Harry, I like a little debauchery. If we had a cute female teacher under forty, I would have tried, trust me. AB-SOL-LUTE legend, I'm telling you. How long were you snogging him, again? What did the papers say, fifth year?"
"Not true. If I started dating Goyle's sister, it would only be after a life-or-death experience."
"Saw him at the feast—he cleaned up for you, Harry. Still ugly, though."
Harry shrugged, "Sort of, but not all of him."
George laughed. "And? How did you start dating Goyle's sister? How did it happen?"
"I would never tell you."
"That bad?"
"Yes," Harry confirmed. "And you've squealed before."
"I won't tell anyone!" George moaned. "Not this time, I swear on the hole on the side of my head. If I tell, you can have the other one."
"Fine," Harry decided. "You tell me the grossest spell you've done in that book for blackmail, and I'll tell you how we started."
"Page 474," George blurted without a hint of shame.
Harry didn't know what page 474 was but it was rather late in the book. "Thanks for that. And I wasn't serious."
George sucked in a breath and pressed his hand into his chest. "You liar!"
"No details—it's too early. And you TOLD Lee last time, so sorry I'm not feeling generous. Maybe in a year when everyone knows. Even Hermione doesn't completely trust my judgement."
"She's with my brother, clearly someone has addled her judgement. Besides, everyone knows you're a smart man who knows exactly what he wants. And blimey…" he leaned in, "a Potions Master… THE Potions Master—one of the best in UK, I'd say. The possibilities… did you try any weird concoctions yet?"
"He keeps trying to give me a lust potion. I keep refusing."
"A lust potion!" George moaned. "I bet he makes a great one too. I can never get them right, they get funny, you know. You want it to work, but you also don't want to hump the couch in front of company. It's a balance, really." A hand grasped his bicep hard, George leaning in scandalously. "So you ARE dating him then!?"
"I thought we established this," Harry gritted through his teeth.
"Details.!" George demanded with a finger to his palm. "Settle a bet. Is he bad in bed, or good? I have a running bet with Wood."
"Why does Wood know?"
"Blimey, the whole staff knows. Couldn't keep that in."
Harry groaned.
"Go on—good or bad? Or a mix?"
"Good," he said honestly.
George raised his eyebrows. "I lost then."
"You bet against him?"
"Weeeeell, I didn't want to, but it was a toss-up, wasn't it? He's weird. So, he was going to be good because he's weird, or bad, because he's weird. Wood chose good for some reason, so I picked the under. Knew better, really. Snape's smart, but he seemed a little inexperienced. Awkward, you know. Like I said: a toss-up."
"His techniques are down. A lot of wandwork."
"So, he overcompensates with magic, does he?"
Harry didn't know what to say to this, because it sounded like the absolute truth.
"When? What month? When did it happen?"
"After Christmas. I asked for help with my healing C.H.A.R.M.S."
"YOU started it?"
"No, I did NOT start it. I didn't start anything."
"And what did ol' Snapey do? Strip down to his jibbies and say 'Heal me!'"
"Not far off, to be honest." Harry got very red and George was laughing so hard he pretended to choke on his drink not to rouse suspicion.
"Wrong pipe!" he waived at Ron who was now getting a lecture in interrogation ethics.
"And that's not the worst part. We got caught!"
George leaned in, mouth dropping, snagged by this harrowing detail.
"So McGonagall calls me into the headmaster's office, right? Both her AND Dumbledore's portrait start questioning me…"
George gasped ironically. "Did you call them two old bats, and that she'll be the next portrait, and to keep her hair out of it?"
"YES!" Harry said and George swooned. "THEN she told me I was a better liar than she thought, and then I told her off for even questioning me, and to keep out of our business."
George looked beside himself, looking up at the ceiling longingly. "I never got to tell McGonagall off. It is my one true regret."
"She didn't deserve it, mind, she was just looking out for me. If I were headmaster, I would have done the same thing."
"Snogging a teacher AND telling off the headmistress after getting caught? LEGEND, I'm telling you. Ginny's going to be sour when she finds out the rumors are true, but who knows, you didn't drop her for a veela, you exchanged her for a big-nosed teacher. Not sure if she'll get jealous over that."
"Seriously, don't say anything. SERIOUSLY. We're not ready to blow the lid off just yet, I need time."
"Your secret is safe with me, Harry. But one more. Last one! I promise."
"No, I already told you enough, way more than I wanted to."
"ONE more," he begged with his index finger. "What does he look like naked? Are we talking six pack or skeleton?"
"Well, he looks weird, doesn't he?"
And George burst out laughing. Ron looked over longingly in the middle of his lecture, wondering what they were laughing about.
"He's bony… except he's working out now, but only his upper body, so he looks even weirder."
"Chicken legs Snape!" and George was so overcome by laughter he couldn't speak for an entire minute. When he was done he wiped an eye. "Oh blimey, my life is complete. Harry, you and your weird relationship—a treasure."
"I could do worse, right?" Harry asked, not wanting to know the answer.
"Oh yes. Truth be told… family's been a little worried. Well, a lot worried, actually. You were bound to get flocked by witches: possibly drugged by a love potion, hooked by some fame harpy or big-bosomed temptress. Quite the relief that it's the exact opposite."
"That's the weird part… he is in his own way. He's awful, but he's really interesting. I was really questioning my own judgment there at first, thought I was losing it, but now I'm really interested. He's so… knowledgeable about… everything? Not in that way, mind, but in general."
"Oh yeah, I can see that," George smiled. "He's fine, really. Smart, cunning, clever, good career… knows what you've been through. AND he cursed my ear off, Harry. I laugh every time I think of him."
"He's too smart," Harry admitted. "I'm worried that he's too smart, and much smarter than I am. Like, he bends to me only because he chooses to. Is that weird?"
"Well, hopefully not. If so, Ron's in real trouble with his, isn't he?"
They looked over at Hermione lecturing Ron and Harry thought this was an excellent point.
They were putting their cloaks on, Hermione managing to corner him one last time.
"Timeline. Give me a timeline when you're going to tell Ron."
"Can't you tell him?"
"Oh no you don't! This is your mess. And if you give me that job, I'm telling him tonight."
"Please… don't pressure me about this." She looked at him fiercely. "Fine, after the summer then."
"It has to be sooner, Harry! He's already suspicious. Tell him you're friends or something, that he helped you with your C.H.A.R.M.S. That way he knows you two have some sort of relationship, even if it's not romantic. So it's not a shock when he finds out."
"Yeah, that'll probably be the best route," he admitted as he fastened his cloak.
"And then maybe we could all spend some time together, have a little dinner party or something, so he can get comfortable."
"I don't know, Hermione... I don't trust Snape not to insult Ron to his face—he's such a pain."
"One month," she warned. "You have by the end of the month to tell him about your friendship… relationship, mentorship… whatever. I'm sick of this, Harry. No more secrets."
"After all I've told you? I need some secrets at this point."