AN: Thank you for all the support! It is very deeply appreciated!
"So let me get this straight?" Hermione took a sip of her Pear Moscato and leaned back on her sofa cushions. "Your best blind date was with a lesbian?"
"That would seem to be the case," He grinned as he sat beside her.
"Who would have guessed?" She set her glass of wine down and laughed.
"Not me."
"Why would Minerva choose her if she knew she was a lesbian?"
"I don't think Minerva that little fact. Stefania was trying to pass as straight, so she may have hidden her sexuality."
"Oh," Hermione took another sip. "Was Stefania the most attractive date you've had?"
"That is a complex question. I cannot say I found her overly attractive, but that is no insult to her. She was the most appealing of the women I've dated."
"She was?" Hermione frowned.
"Indeed," he answered. "It's amazing how much more appealing a woman is when she's not trying to grope and manhandle me."
"Yes, I could see it now, the big bad potions master cowering in fear of an overly affectionate lesbian," she chuckled.
His chest warmed at the sound of her laughter. Watching her eyes light up made this debacle of an evening almost worth it. If he must suffer, the least he could do was bring her some joy, a joy he wished he could always provide for her.
"So, are you going to get that tattoo?" Hermione took another sip of her wine.
"Doubtful," he glanced at his arm. "I've had enough marks to last me a lifetime, though I will admit the thought of a mongoose on my arm is intriguing."
"It would look attractive on you."
"Yes, but why waste galleons on a product only I will see?"
"What do you mean?"
"It means," he picked up his wine glass, "I have no intention of wearing anything other than long sleeves for the remainder of my life."
"Truly?"
"Truly," he took a sip of his cabernet.
"Don't you ever get hot in the summer wearing only long sleeves?"
"Only when I don't use a cooling spell."
"Yes, but surely there are times you wouldn't mind relaxing in comfortable clothes, clothes which don't require magic to keep you comfortable."
"Who said I do not already do that?"
She cocked her head.
"I am comfortable in my clothing. My wardrobe suits me." He took another sip of wine. "I am comfortable in black, long sleeved clothing, and see no reason to change anything about myself."
"I wouldn't change anything about you either."
"Truly?"
"Yes, you are outstanding just as you are."
His lips curled up.
"Besides," She scratched her chin. "It is hard to envision you in pink."
"Please do not remind me of Wren and her unfortunate plans for me," he groaned.
"I don't mean to, but still," her voice softened. "You aren't playing a role anymore. You aren't the man you were forced to be during the war. It's fine to allow people to see a softer side of you, one which isn't afraid of debunking the myths surrounding him, like the one that he has no heart."
"Myths don't surround me, but my persona does, which is how I like it," He set his drink onto the coffee table.
"It's okay to let others see a different side of you."
"I do not care to allow people I will only have minimal interaction with to know who I am."
"You could allow other people in. You're someone worth knowing."
"Not to a mere acquaintance."
"They could become a friend someday."
"A true friend is rare. We are all forced to make acquaintances throughout our lives, but none of us is forced to make a friend," he argued. "I can decide who is and is not worthy of knowing my soul. It is the one freedom I've always had, and one I cherish all the more now that I no longer have two masters."
"I can understand that," she replied.
"If I remain selective of who I show my innermost thoughts to, then I always have control. Isn't control what all of us want?"
She twisted her lower lip.
Before either could answer, someone knocked on her door.
"Who is it?" Hermione asked, forcing herself to sit up straighter.
"It's me, Neville," the voice from behind the door called. "I wanted to see how your interview went."
"Oh yes," she pulled out her wand and muttered a few spells. After the door glowed green, it opened. Neville entered, a smile upon his face.
"You seem to be having a pleasant evening," Severus noted.
"That's because I just found this article in my favorite publication," Neville held up a copy of Journal of Herbology.
Severus leaned forward and muttered, "the magical properties of marigolds."
"Yes," he beamed as he opened it and turned to page 29. "Look at the author."
"Neville Longbottom," Hermione read.
"Yes!"
"Huh," Severus turned to Hermione. "I've never heard of him. Is he a Canadian?"
She gave him a playful shove. "No Canadian could ever harvest your potions ingredients half as well as Neville can, and you know it."
"Indeed I do," Severus turned to Neville. "I do have an excellent herbology colleague who grows the best plants I've ever used."
"Thank you," Neville closed the journal.
"Congratulations," Severus replied as his lips curled up. "If anyone deserves this honor, it is you."
"Thank you," Neville answered before turning to Hermione. "But I didn't mean to come in and make things all about me. How did your interview go?"
"No, don't apologize. You have made a wonderful accomplishment, and we should celebrate it," she gestured for Neville to sit on the chair beside the sofa. "Would you like some pear moscato or cabernet?"
"I could go for a pear moscato," Neville answered.
"I can get it," Hermione stood before hobbling to her wheelchair. After sitting in it, she wheeled herself to the kitchen.
"How did the interview go?" Neville asked.
"I think it went well," She locked her wheelchair, then balanced herself on a counter before reaching for a cupboard.
"You think?"
"Yes, I mean," she grabbed a wine glass. "I think I made it clear that I was qualified, and addressed the concerns surrounding my disability well."
"Addressed the concerns surrounding your disability?" Neville asked as she returned to her wheelchair and unlocked it.
"Apparently half the interview was asking Hermione if her disability disqualified her from the position," Severus scowled.
"I don't know if it was half the interview," Hermione wheeled herself into the living area. "But a good portion seemed to be questioning my physical abilities and how they would affect my ability to do the job."
"That's unfortunate, but understandable," Neville set his journal onto the table.
"No, it isn't," Severus argued. "If Minerva has doubts about Hermione's physical ability she should reserve them for the demonstration process. That interview should have only been about Hermione's intellect, experience, and qualifications, not about her disability."
"Yes, but when I fought in the war and contributed new spells to Defense Against the Dark Arts, my leg wasn't shaking," Hermione handed Neville the glass before locking her wheelchair. "That isn't the case now."
"No, but you can still do things, and soon, you'll be able to defend and teach a Defense Against Dark Arts class better than anyone else could."
"That's assuming I can fly," She returned to her place beside Severus. "Which is not a given."
"Do not be pessimistic. You are progressing at a nice pace."
"That pace is not fast enough for most people's liking."
"You can and will learn to fly," he took her hand. "Do not lose faith in yourself."
"I'll try not to," she relaxed as she gazed into his eyes.
The sound of wine pouring returned their attention to the fact there was another guest in the room. They turned to him.
"Oh please," Neville blushed. "Don't' mind me."
"No you're fine. I shouldn't be so rude and forget you," she cleared her throat. "I think I addressed her concerns, but we shall see."
"I'm sure the interview went the way it was supposed to," Neville picked up his glass.
"Let's hope so anyway," she muttered.
"To Hermione," Neville held up his glass, "if Minerva is smart, which she is, you'll be the next Defense Against Dark Arts Professor."
"To Neville," Hermione raised her glass, "a newly published author."
"To my newfound ability to tolerate being in the same room with two Gryffindors," Severus raised his glass.
"Cheers!" They all exclaimed before chuckling and taking a sip.
"It feels weird to celebrate me at all since I haven't done anything yet," she began.
"Even getting that interview was amazing," Neville answered. "And if you wore that dress, you looked amazing doing it."
"I hope so," Hermione rubbed her hand along the velvet. "It was the most professional one I had. Hopefully it didn't scream, 'I'm trying to hard.'"
"It doesn't," Severus answered as a smile crept across his face. "It looks quite lovely on you."
"Yes, it looks nice," Neville drawled, focusing on Severus.
"Do you think it looked okay?" She turned to Severus.
"I know it did," he purred.
Neville coughed, returning their attention to him.
"But, enough about my interview," Hermione turned to Neville "You need to tell us about your article."
"It isn't anything I haven't told both of you about already," Neville answered. "I actually cited one of your articles, Severus."
"Was it the one which dealt with tulips and their hidden potential?" Severus asked.
"Yes," he answered. "I used it to reference potential uses for tulips in antibiotic potions as well as how marigolds could serve a similar purpose in anticoagulant potions."
"That is an intriguing idea. I would like to follow up with you about it at some point."
"Just let me know when."
"I hope it will be sooner rather than late. Marigolds may be helpful in the anti-inflammatory potions Hermione and I hope to create."
"Anti-inflammatory potions?"
"Yes," Severus turned to Hermione. "We are considered ways to create an anti-inflammatory potion in order to treat the cause of certain types of pain, not just mask their symptoms."
"We're just brainstorming now," Hermione added. "But any help is appreciated."
"I can do some preliminary research and get back to you both," Neville took a sip of wine.
"We'd appreciate that."
"Indeed we would," Severus replied.
"In the meantime," Hermione pointed to the journal. "How are you going to celebrate your publication?"
"First, I'm going to finish this wine." He took another sip.
"Okay, then what?"
"I'm going to call Edwina, take her somewhere nice and then," the light in his eyes died, "I'm going to show it to my parents."
"How are they?" Hermione asked in a quieter voice.
"They're the same as always." Neville shrugged. "I doubt they can even hear me, and if they can, it's doubtful they understand what I'm saying. Still, I like them to know about these things. If they can hear me at all, they should know I am a published author."
"I'm sure somewhere they do understand you and appreciate you keeping them informed of your life. Deep inside, they're proud of you."
"I hope so," Neville shook his head.
"If they could speak, they would celebrate with you," Severus began. "They would tell everyone how proud they were of you."
"I know," Neville answered. "It's hard sometimes though. There are so many things I wish I could share with them that I can't. Sometimes I think they smile at me, but I never know if it's that or just a spasm."
Severus hummed and nodded.
"Still," the spark returned to Neville's eyes, "I don't want to bring the mood down. Things are finally going well for us. We should be celebrating."
"Indeed we should," Severus answered.
"Yes, but remember, I haven't accomplished anything yet," Hermione replied.
"No, but you've taken an important first step into achieving your dreams," Severus answered. "For that, you should celebrate."
"Then I shall," she answered.
Neville watched Severus and Hermione return their gazes to each other's eyes. It was as if they were the only two people in the room, the only two people who mattered to each other. The rest of the world could disappear, and they would be content so long as they had each other.
Neville needed to have a conversation with Minerva about Severus' dating life as soon possible.