It had been a good day. It really had. She had eaten breakfast with Neville, gone for a walk in the grounds, met with Minerva and Wilma (the new Muggle Studies teacher) and had dinner with the rest of the staff. The meeting with Wilma had been so positive and Hermione was really looking forward to working with the Hufflepuff next year. She had a feeling they would be quite the team. She was already starting to feel more comfortable in the staff room as well, and told herself that it didn't matter that Snape still hadn't acknowledged her. There was no reason for her to be awake and anxious and on edge at 1:30am. None at all.
Sighing, Hermione stood, popped on her dressing gown and slippers and made her way down to the kitchens. Tea and a distraction. Hopefully that would help her settle for the night. The kitchen was quiet, the sounds of the elves working and the crackle of the fire the only noises. Instantly, she felt more at ease, and cupped her hands gratefully around her mug, sitting back in the chair. It felt such a luxury to be able to come down here and be welcome, she was still so indebted to Professor Snape for making it so. Severus. Hermione thought the name in her head, feeling herself grow warm. The other teachers had all given her permission to use their first names, Professor Snape had not, but then neither had he spoken to her all.
As if summoned by her thoughts, the man himself opened the door, stopping short when he saw her.
"I didn't use the map." Hermione announced, completely redundantly seeing as Snape had been the one to walk in on her.
"Obviously." He drawled, but without any real venom.
Hermione's eyes raked over him, taking in his dark robes, his tense body, his lank hair and pale skin and the shadows under his eyes. She had missed him so much.
"Do you, do you want me to leave?" She asked, as Snape was still stood in the doorway. "I - I can go." She stood.
"Be seated." He snapped, then made his way over to the fire and sat as well, taking tea from and elf with a nod of thanks and ignoring her entirely.
Perhaps Snape couldn't settle either. Perhaps he came here often. She stole a glance at him. He really did look awful. Had he spent all summer alone and miserable? Hermione rubbed her chest. How was she supposed to do this? He needed her, he needed someone in his life, he needed someone to care, but he was so prickly, so difficult, so walled off. Why was everything just so hard? Images swarmed her. Flashes from the battle, Fred's lifeless body, Snape's blood covering the floor, then later, bodies lined against wall, people crying, funerals, her parents' frightened faces. Hermione pushed the heels of her hands against her eyes, trying to force the images away.
"Are you well?" His deep voice rolled over her senses.
"Fine." She choked out, trying to get control of her breathing once again. "I'm fine, just ... just give me a second."
Hermione wiggled her toes. She counted to twenty. She clenched her fists and listened to the fire. Slowly, she brought herself back. Dropping her hands away from her face, she sat up straight once again and picked up her tea. Snape was staring at her, his eyes were dark and intense, his usually impassive face had dropped into lines of deep concern.
"Sorry." She mumbled, feeling her cheeks heat. "I'm okay."
"Are you?" His eyes burned on hers, and this display of concern, this demonstration of caring was making her want to cry.
"Yes." She said quietly, dropping her eyes to her hands. "Just a bad ... a bad evening. Out of nowhere." She rolled her eyes. "Most of the time now, I really am okay. I'm doing .. quite ... quite well, all things considered. And then suddenly I feel like I am barely holding it together."
When she looked back up, she was surprised to find Snape watching her, he was frowning, but didn't seem angry.
"That's how I feel every minute of every day." He said finally.
Hermione clenched her jaw against the wave of emotion that rose within her. Then, silently, she reached her hand over and rested it on Snape's forearm. His eyes fluttered closed and something raw and desperate overtook his face for several heartbeats, before impassivity took over once again. Neither of them spoke again, nor acknowledged how Snape slowly shifted to sit with his body tilted towards her, nor how Hermione finally managed to relax.
Later, lying in bed as the sky was beginning to lighten, Hermione finally let her tears spill over her eyes. Snape had walked her to her rooms, ignoring her protestations and her thanks and giving her nothing but a glare before he stalked off. But he had shown her, once again, that he cared. And once again, just how damaged he was. She rolled over and wished Crookshanks was with her rather than out hunting, she could really use his comforting presence. She missed Ginny. And Luna. And Lavender and Hannah and even Draco. She missed Harry and Ron. And she missed her parents. Desperately so.
Hermione wasn't sure why she was so utterly terrified to begin teaching. She would be taking the lead with the 1st, 2nd and 3rd years, the 4th and 5th years would be a joint effort, the 6th year classes would be led by Minerva and Hermione would be absent from the 7th year classes to assist with the new Muggle or Wizarding Studies classes. It was all planned out. Minerva would be there with her. She knew the syllabus inside and out. She had planned her lessons meticulously. She was ready. She was also on the verge of a panic attack. Neville had been sympathetic but didn't seem to understand, Poppy had offered her a Calming Draught and a hug, Crookshanks had lost patience with her and Dr Prewett wouldn't be back until the beginning of term on Monday. She couldn't bring herself to admit to Minerva how much she was freaking out after the old Transfiguration Professor had shown such faith in her. And so, she had spent most of Friday and Saturday pacing and crying and being angry with herself. Brightest witch of her age and she was losing it over the thought of having to speak to a bunch of children.
She was half tempted to give this Sunday a miss, not wanting to face Snape when she was such a mess, nor risk annoying him or drawing his temper when she wasn't sure she could handle it. But it would be the first one since the end of the last school year, and she had told Snape she would be there, every Sunday, even if there was a storm. She could hardly let him down on the first week. And besides, a distraction would be good. It might help. It would be better than driving herself mad.
Hermione marched herself out to the driveway then had to turn around and head back inside because she had forgotten the thermaflask of tea. Even this minor inconvenience made tears sting in her eyes and when she eventually flopped herself down onto the bench, she scrubbed her hands over her face and did her best to pull herself together. The noise of Snape's footfalls coming towards her made her pulse accelerate and her face heat, even before he came into view and scowled at her before sitting down. To her shame, her hands shook slightly as she poured the tea, though Snape either didn't notice or chose not to comment.
"Why do you look like you're about to head to the gallows?" He glared at her, looking almost ... almost...
"It's not because of you, sir!" She exclaimed. "I'm just a bit nervous about teaching, that's all."
Snape looked intently into her face, then seemed to relax slightly.
"You achieved 7 'O's' in your NEWTs." He said finally. "You are overqualified for almost any position in the Wizarding world. You hardly need to worry about facing a group of dunderheaded children."
"I know!" Hermione almost shouted. "I know I don't! I don't get it! There's no reason for me to be freaking out, but here we are! I'm a mess!"
"Is it because you're a war hero?" Snape's voice was half mocking, half curious. "Are you concerned they're going to fawn over you and ask for an autograph?"
"Oh god." Hermione slumped forwards and put her head in her hands. "I wasn't worried about that before."
"For Merlin's sake." Snape turned towards her pulled her hands roughly from her face, forcing her to look at him. "Your knowledge is impeccable. You have a stellar reputation. As long as you don't let the little brats walk all over you, you'll be fine."
He released her and picked up his tea. Hermione's heart was hammering. She wasn't sure he'd ever initiated contact like that before. Then, out of nowhere, a rush of indignation caught her attention.
"They won't walk all over me." She said firmly. "That's probably the only thing I'm not worrying about."
"Really?" Snape gave her a look of wide eyed incredulity. "You're a bleeding heart, emotions on your sleeve, soft and fluffy Gryffindor. You should be worried they'll eat you alive."
"I Petrified one my own friends to sneak a dragon out of the castle in the middle of the night at age 11." Hermione said stonily. "I found out Rita Skeeter was an unregistered Animagus and imprisoned her in her beetle form in a jar under my bed for the entire summer when I was 14. I cursed the parchment the students used to sign up for Dumbledore's Army to disfigure any traitors when I was 15. Marietta Edgecombe still has the scars. "
Snape's mouth had been slightly ajar as she'd spoken, but as he turned to look at her, it spread into such a genuine smile, it nearly derailed her entirely.
"I led Umbridge into the forest knowing exactly what the centaurs would do to her. I successfully impersonated Bellatrix Lestrange. I survived torture by her. I broke out of Gringotts on a dragon. I destroyed a piece of "You Know Who's soul. And ..." Here, Hermione smiled too, wondering if Snape had done this on purpose. "And I punched Draco Malfoy in the face."
Snape laughed. It was a sound that was rusty, masculine and felt almost forbidden. Hermione felt every inch of her warm in pleasure to have caused such a reaction, and she knew her cheeks were pink as Snape looked at her again, his lips still lifted upwards.
"Then I suggest you remember who you are." He said softly. "The students should be worried about facing you."
Hermione felt herself relax for the first time in several days. She smiled at the dark man by her side, full of gratitude.
"That helps." She said softly. "They should be. Thank you."
Snape rolled his eyes and looked down at his tea, though his face was still warm.
"Is that how you got Skeeter to write that article about Potter in the Quibbler?" He asked.
"Yes." Hermione was unable to stop the vindictive grin that spread on her face. "I blackmailed her with the threat of Azkaban."
Snape chuckled darkly, still looking down.
"And it was me that set you on fire in my first year."
Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth, part horrified, part amused by her unexpected confession.
"That was you?!"
"Yes?" Hermione smiled sheepishly. "I did think you were cursing Harry's broom though, in my defence. And it did end up stopping Quirrell."
Snape was staring at her, wide eyed, then abruptly, he laughed again. His face changed when it was moved with humour. It was still pale and sallow and too thin, his nose was still big, his hair greasy, his teeth yellowing, but it was warm and soft and wicked. Hermione wanted to look at him when he was like that, forever.
"Fucking hell, Granger." He said finally, smiling again when he took in her startled expression. "What are you doing to me?"
Hermione stood at the front of the Transfiguration classroom, looking out at the sea of faces in front of her. She had just finished outlining the structure of the term and the format the lessons would be taking going forwards. Her very first class were first years, and they were so tiny she was having a hard time not laughing at them.
"Any questions?"
A mousy haired Ravenclaw boy ... Mr Travis? Travers? It was going to be a long time before she remembered all their names ... put his hand up and met her eyes.
"Yes? Mr - ?"
"Trent, Professor Granger." He said, smiling slightly though he looked nervous.
That was going to take some getting used to as well.
"What was your question, Mr Trent?"
"Are you still best friends with Harry Potter?"
Hermione rolled her eyes internally and straightened her shoulders. She had prepared herself for this.
"Yes."
"And is it true that you ... that you destroyed a piece of You-Know-Who's soul?"
"Yes," she said evenly. "It is. So you had all better watch yourselves and endeavour to stay on my good side, is that clear?"
She was gratified by the few nervous laughs that arose from the classroom, and met Minerva's appreciative smile with one of her own.
"Now, are there any questions about the syllabus?"
Hermione flopped down next to Neville at dinner on Thursday night. One more day to go. The first week of term had been gruelling beyond belief, she was utterly exhausted. But it had gone so well. She smiled to herself as she poured a small glass of wine. She really hadn't needed to be so worried. The hardest bit so far was trying to remember everyone's names, there was so many students, it was mad she hadn't noticed before. Minerva had been true to her word and completely let her take the lead with the younger years. She had been worried the older years might struggle to accept her authority as a teacher, seeing as they were used to her being a student, but beyond a few of the troublemakers testing her boundaries, it had been smooth sailing. A couple of detentions with Filch was all she had needed to threaten so far, and she was really enjoying teaching, even more than she had expected to.
Professor Snape entered the Hall, he was one of the last teachers to arrive. Before the war, he had usually sat on Dumbledore's left side, or next to Minerva on Dumbledore's right, but since his tenure as Headmaster, he seemed to been relegated to the end with the newer members of staff. Or perhaps that was his preference. Hermione couldn't remember when or how this pattern had been established, she hadn't been paying much attention to the seating arrangements at the beginning of last year. With a subtle flare of his robes, Snape took the seat besides her. She had known he ate little, but over the last week she had realised just how little this was.
"I've almost survived my first week." She told him quietly. "I was being ridiculous, you were right."
"I am always right." He said dismissively. "Did you have to set any of the little brats on fire?"
"No." She replied, smiling down at her plate. "I've managed without having to resort to arson."
"Pity."
Hermione snorted into her casserole and turned her head to retort, but the look on Snape's face made her stop short. He was scowling at something behind her, anger radiating off him. Confused, Hermione turned around to meet the eyes of half of the faculty, staring at her and Snape with open curiosity. She had forgotten he never spoke to anyone at the staff table.
"What?" She asked pointedly, which seemed to snap them out of it.
Aurora turned away first and loudly engaged Sybil in a discussion around star signs, and the rest of the staff seemed to follow suit.
"Honestly." Hermione huffed. "All that attention just because you said something funny. Imagine if they knew I'd made you laugh."
"They'd never believe you."
Snape's voice was calm and even, the anger seemed to have dissipated and he was smirking slightly as he ate. Hermione felt unsettled by the reaction of her colleagues and the scrutiny she had suddenly found herself under. Since they'd been on the run and food had been so scarce, she sometimes found it hard to eat when other people were watching her. Despite the shift in attention away from her, she still felt that awareness over her as she picked up a forkful of food. Sighing, she forced herself to chew and swallow and think about other things.
"Hermione!" Neville caught up with her as she exited the Hall. "Let's have a catch up. Your place or mine?"
"Umm." Hermione thought of her marking. "Tonight isn't really a good time for me Neville, could we catch up over the weekend?"
"Nope." Said Neville cheerily. "I've just witnessed the strangest thing in the History of Hogwarts. We can either discuss it loudly in the corridor or behind closed doors, but it needs to be tonight or I'll never be able to sleep."
"Fine." Hermione sighed. "My quarters are closer, come on."
A short while later they were sitting on Hermione's sofas with a fresh pot of tea and a plate of custard creams.
"Right." Said Neville, his round face serious. "Spill."
"What exactly do you want me to tell you?"
Neville frowned.
"It's not like you to be cagey, Mione."
"I'm not being cagey. I just don't understand exactly what you want me to say." Hermione did her best not to sound indignant, and she wasn't sure exactly why she already felt so defensive, but her relationship with Professor Snape felt private, not something for casual discussion.
"Hermione, Professor Snape talked to you. He barely even bothers acknowledging anyone else. And not only that, he made you laugh. And when you snapped at us all to stop us staring, his face went all ... all ... relaxed. Like one second he was scowling and looking like he was about to hex us, and the next he seemed ... he seemed content. Like you'd made him happy. And then he looked at you, and then looked down, and his face was all ... all relaxed."
Hermione sat staring at Neville, wondering when he had become so observant. Had all the staff seen this so clearly? It wasn't exactly that she minded them knowing she was on good terms with Snape, but he was so intensely private he surely wouldn't enjoy any sort of scrutiny. Perhaps she would have to avoid talking to him in public going forward. But then that didn't seem right either, and Snape would probably assume she was ashamed of him. Thinking about it, he hadn't seemed to mind once she'd effectively told everyone to sod off.
"Hermione?" Neville prompted. "Are you okay? You don't actually have tell me, you know. I was half teasing."
"It's okay." She said softly. "But it is quite private, you know? Professor Snape wouldn't like me talking about him behind his back, I don't ever want him to become the subject of gossip, and especially not because of me."
"Okay." Neville said slowly. "Well for what it's worth I don't think anyone else was paying as much attention as me. I was nearest and I was watching Snape's face, I think everyone else was too stunned by how at ease you seemed with him to notice much else. And for what it's worth, I won't tell anyone anything you tell me, you know that."
"Okay." Hermione sighed. "We're ... we're on relatively good terms, I guess."
"Yes I got that." Neville smiled. "How on earth did that happen?"
"I went to visit Dumbledore's grave one Sunday last year." She said slowly. "He was there. And he seemed so, so sad. So I started going weekly and eventually we settled into a routine of it. We've gradually become more comfortable around each other from that. But it's not like ... we don't really chat or talk about our feelings or ... or anything normal. It's not like we're truly friends."
Neville was staring at her, his usually jovial face unexpectedly grave.
"Right." He said slowly. "So you and Snape meet weekly? Still?"
"Yes. But often we just sort of sit there."
"I can't imagine it." Neville said, sitting back and looking thoughtful. "But then I could have never imagine Snape looking all ... all whatever it was he looked earlier. I think it must have meant something to him, you know? That you basically told everyone to get stuffed so you could carry on talking to him."
"It ... it wasn't that much of a big deal, surely? I didn't yell at anyone or anything."
"No." Neville agreed. "But you made it very clear their attention wasn't wanted and you turned back to him. That's when his face went all ... soft."
"I think you're reading too much into this, Neville." Hermione said uncomfortably.
"I'm not." He replied. "I've never seen his face do that before. He must really like you."
"It's not that. It's only because he doesn't have anyone else. You said so yourself, he barely speaks to anyone."
"Still." Neville countered. "He looked the closest thing to happy I think I've ever seen. And even just sitting next to you he was all ... like not on the edge of killing someone. He was just sitting there."
"He's had an incredibly difficult and lonely life, Neville." Hermione said. "Is it so surprising a bit of company is good for him?"
"I suppose not." He said. "And you know what he's like, you know his history, and you don't judge, or scare easy. You're probably really good for him, Hermione."
"I hope so." Hermione sighed. "But I maintain it isn't as big of a deal as you seem to think it is."
"We'll have to agree to disagree on that point." Neville said, smiling. "You ... you must also like him? To spend all that time with him over such a long period of time?"
"I do." She said slowly, searching Neville's face for signs that he was suggesting something romantic, which he certainly didn't seem to be. "There's a lot more to him that meets the eye. For the most part, he is just as grumpy and disagreeable and stubborn and difficult as we've always thought, but there are also flashes of humour, and kindness. I was so nervous before my first day of teaching, and he really talked me down. He has this way of making it seem like an accident or ... incidental somehow or insignificant, when he helps me. Like he can't stand the idea of me realising he cares. He's-" Hermione cut herself off and laughed as she realised what she was about to say. "He's a surprisingly good friend, for lack of a better word."
"Bloody hell." Neville said, sounding awestruck. "This is such a plot twist."
"And it's private, remember?"
"Of course." He waved a dismissive hand in the air. "No one would believe me anyway."
"That's what Snape said too." Hermione smiled. "When I said about the staffs reactions if they knew I'd made him laugh."
"You've made him laugh?!" Neville asked, looking like she'd grown another head. "What did you do?"
"I told him about punching Draco. And setting him on fire."
"And he laughed?!" Neville shouted. "He didn't-"
"Didn't what?" Hermione asked, smiling. "Take house point and put me in detention? We're colleagues now."
"Still! I would have thought he would at least be angry!"
"You just have to catch him in the right mood. He's got a pretty good sense of humour, when he wants to."
"Look at our Hermione." Neville said appreciatively. "Best mates with Snape."
"Neville." Hermione groaned. "Don't start."
Hermione apparated directly to Grimmauld Place after her last lesson of the day. She had secured the first Friday of every month off with Minerva, unless there was a crisis or a major pre-planned event. Stood out the busy London street, Hermione searched the right edge of number 11 and the left edge of number 13, waiting for number 12 to appear. Only it didn't. Heart pounding, she searched the street again. No number 12. Trying to stay on top of the mounting panic, Hermione looked again.
"Hermione." Harry had appeared out of nowhere, his green eyes searching her face.
"Harry!" She shouted, grabbing her friend tightly. "The house! It's - it's gone!"
"Hermione!"
"Are you okay?" Tears stung in her eyes. "What happened?! Where's the house?! Is Ginny safe?! Where did it go?!"
"Hermione!" Harry gave her a slight shake. "The home of Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger can be found at number 12 Grimmauld Place."
Her eyes darted back to the row of houses, and there, in between number 11 and number 13, was her home.
"Oh."
"Take a breath." Harry said kindly. "Come inside and have some tea."
A few minutes later found them both sat inside with tea in hand, Harry staring at her guiltily.
"I'm sorry. Ginny's going to kill me for scaring you like that." He said sheepishly. "I was going to send you a patronus but I didn't want to do it during lessons and create a distraction, then Kreacher showed up for a visit and I completely lost track of time."
Hermione's heartbeat hadn't quite returned to it's normal rhythm, but Harry's familiar style of bumbling apology still made her smile.
"It's okay." She patted his hand. "Can you tell me what the hell is going on now though?"
"Yaxley and Mulicber have been spotted in Wales. Since Yaxley knows the house's location we thought it would be a good idea to renew the Fidelius Charm. I'm secret keeper now."
Hermione felt her heart race and forced herself to take a deep, calming breath.
"You think they'll come after you, then?"
"I don't personally. But Ginny is convinced, she can't think of any other reason they'd come back into the country. Best not to take any chances, anyway. I can apparate straight to work from inside the charm's protection, and they'd be mad to try and get into the Ministry. It's just a waiting game until they get caught. I'm really not worried, Hermione. Please don't stress."
"Okay." Hermione swallowed and sipped some of her tea. "I'm sure one of the others could host our monthly meetings for a while? Keep Grimmauld as secure as possible."
"It's okay, I don't want things to change because of this. And anyway, the only reason security got as bit lax was because we all became secret keepers after Dumbledore died. With just me as secret keeper, it's pretty damn safe. I could tell 100 people the location, but none of them would be able to bring anyone in. You know this, it's really safe. We're okay."
"You're right." She sighed. "Even knowing the location they won't be able to get anywhere near close enough to do anything. But you'll be careful, won't you Harry? No running off on your own or going after them?"
"I won't. The only reason I'll be out looking for them is if the Head of the Auror Department deploys me as part of the team taking them down. I've done my bit, I'm happy to stay safe and as far away from trouble as possible."
"Safe and as far away from trouble as possible ... as an Auror?"
"Good point." Harry grinned. "But you know what I mean. If we see anything out of the ordinary they're going to station someone outside to keep watch. No one is willing to take any chances."
"Okay." Hermione smiled. "I'll chill out. What do you think they're doing back here, though?"
"No idea." Harry frowned. "If I had to say, I'd guess they were just back to gather whatever resources they have left and get out again. Won't be easy for them though, it's not like they can get into their family homes or their vaults at Gringotts. If they try they'll be taken down before they can so much as sneeze. All their known associates are being watched. Including Malfoy."
"Does Draco know?"
"I wrote to him." Harry informed her. "I'm never going to be his biggest fan, but there is a chance, however small, that they'll go looking for him. Whether to get money or revenge or support, who knows. But I'd rather he knew to be on the lookout. He's living pretty off-grid these days anyway, they'd have a hard time finding him, even before I told him about their return. He's made his home unplottable and secret-kept too. He's safe."
"Thanks Harry, that's really good of you." Hermione smiled. "What does everyone else think? Does anyone know their motives?"
"Ron doesn't reckon they're out for revenge either, they're both too hellbent on survival. But they must be back for a reason. The department is keeping us deliberately out the loop." Harry rolled his eyes. "They're worried we're going to go after them ourselves as well. As if we wouldn't have preferred to go after Voldemort with the full support of the Ministry."
"You don't think ... they're trying to ... I don't know, garner support or ... resurrect Voldemort or something do you?"
"I don't think so." Harry said, looking serious. "And even if they are, let them. They won't last five minutes." He took her hand. "It's not like it was before. It's not us against the world, it's the world against them."
"Right." Hermione smiled. "Okay. Thanks Harry. Right. Can you write out some slips of paper with the address on so I can let the others in? What time is Ginny back?"
It had ended up being a lovely evening. Ginny had indeed given Harry a serious telling off ('You had ONE job, Harry Potter!'), and sent him off to the Burrow with his tail between his legs. She and Ginny had met the others outside, distributed the address and then headed inside for a muggle takeaway. For most of the group, it was the first time they had experienced one, so they had decided to start them off gently, opting for fish and chips.
"This is the best thing I have ever eaten." Neville had announced, beaming. "I can't wait to tell Gran about this."
"I dread to think how many calories there are in it." Lavender had responded, frowning, but helping herself to more chips.
"I haven't had fish and chips since I was a kid." Hannah had smiled. "I'd forgotten all about it."
"What do you think, Draco?" Luna had asked, her blond hair now in stark contrast to her deep tan.
"It's very greasy." He had replied. "It's ... weird. But not unpleasant."
"I think we should take that as a ringing endorsement." Ginny had grinned. "Don't you, Hermione?"
"Absolutely." She'd smiled. "Draco Malfoy, eating a muggle takeaway? We should alert the press."
"And throw a party." Neville had chimed in.
"Alright." Draco had scowled, though not like he truly meant it. "That's enough. I was a shit, I get it."
"Do you?" Ginny had asked, still smiling. "Do you really get just how much of a shit you were?"
"Yes, Weasley." Draco had smiled, for once looking like just a regular young man. "I really, really do, okay?"
"Definitely alert the press." Ginny had said to Hermione.
"And throw a party." She'd replied.
"My God I'm exhausted." Hermione informed Snape, as she sat herself down at the grave on Sunday. "Why are there so many students? Why are there so many lessons? Why are the days so long? How am I supposed to remember everyone's names? Will I have to spend every weekend marking?"
"Welcome to the joys of teaching." Snape smirked, but something about his demeanour was off today. "You will remember everyone's names, in time. And I suggest you make a conscious effort to stay on top of marking so it doesn't build up, and assign less work to 2nd, 3rd and 4th years. They don't need it as much as the 1st, 5th, 6th and 7th years."
"That makes sense." Hermione said thoughtfully. "Good tip, thank you."
Snape nodded and took his tea, gazing silently ahead.
"Did you ... did you get up to much over the summer?" She asked cautiously.
"No." He said shortly.
"Fair enough." She replied, looking at him sideways. "We completely gutted Grimmauld Place, it's almost unrecognisable now. It's nice. Although that painting of Sirius' Mother is still on the wall. We've silenced her now though. Ginny actually enjoys pissing her off now she can't scream the house down."
This brought a weak smirk out of Snape, but he was still subdued. The sadness that ran through him seemed closer to the surface today. Hermione thought of his confession to her in the kitchens before the term had began. Today seemed to be a bad day for him.
"Harry told me that Mulciber and Yaxley have been spotted in Wales." She said softly, hoping to distract him. "He doesn't think they're back for any particular reason, but he's re-secured the house to be safe. There's a whole team of Aurors on it. If they resurface anywhere they're known, they'll have them."
"Not even those two are that stupid." Snape replied. "I'm surprised I haven't been visited by the Aurors."
"Good point." Hermione said frowning. "Why wouldn't they ask you if you had any idea why they were back or what their next move might be?"
"I have absolutely no idea why they'd be back in the country." Snape said. "They might have never left in the first place."
He looked at her sideways.
"I meant I was surprised I hadn't been interrogated."
"About what?" Hermione asked, genuinely confused.
"Merlin, girl, don't pretend to be thick. It doesn't suit you."
Hermione frowned at the floor.
"You think they'd want to interrogate you to find out if you were ... helping them?!" Hermione asked incredulously, taking Snape's scowl as confirmation. "Of course they wouldn't think that! You were acquitted! No one at the Ministry thinks you're a loyal Death Eater."
"Don't be so naïve." Snape snarled. "Acquittal means nothing. I'm a black stain on this new world. They'd all be thrilled to find any reason to throw me in Azkaban to rot."
"Who would be?! Who's 'they'?!"
"Everyone!" Snape shouting, leaping to his feet.
"Is that really what you think?" Hermione asked sadly, making a point to remain seated and keep her voice calm. "It's not true, Professor. It really isn't."
"You're a fool if you believe that!" Snape shouted.
"I'm no fool." She said softly. "We both know that. With your personality, you're never going to be society's favourite war veteran. But that doesn't mean everyone hates you. The vast, vast majority of people accept you were Dumbledore's man. They might not want to go out drinking with you, but they certainly don't want you in Azkaban."
"You're wrong." Snape said stonily.
"No I'm not. I know you don't believe me, but try and consider you might not be thinking objectively. Try paying attention over the next few weeks, and looking at your interactions as if you're an outsider. No one thinks you're evil."
"Don't patronise me!" Snape screamed, his face twisting in rage.
"I'm not!" Hermione stood, despite herself. "I'm not patronising you. I'm talking to you. There's a difference."
"I don't have to listen to this." He turned to leave.
"No!" Hermione shouted, lunging forward and grabbing his arm.
"Miss Granger!" Snape shouted.
"HER-MI-O-NE!"" Hermione shouted even louder.
They both stared at one another breathlessly. She had never truly raised her voice to him before.
"Please don't walk away." She continued, more calmly, her hand still gripping his arm. "Not in anger. Have I really said anything that deserves it? You disagree, I get that, but I haven't said anything rude or unkind or disrespectful in any way."
Hesitantly, she released him, averting her gaze from his flushed face.
"We're both stubborn as hell. I don't want to risk losing this friendship because we lost our tempers. It's too important to me."
Snape opened his mouth, a sneer on his lips, but Hermione continued on before he could say anything.
"Don't sneer and snarl and dismissively tell me it isn't a friendship. Maybe it isn't to you, but it is to me. And it matters. If you need time or space to process what I've said, that's fine, but tell me that, don't just march away from me because I've said something you don't like. Please."
Snape looked at her intently, he was frowning, but he didn't seem truly angry anymore. Truth be told, he looked almost pained.
"Or we could sit and have tea." She said hopefully. "I only brought this up because I wanted to warn you to be careful. You should be fine, in Hogwarts, but be careful if you're out and about. Draco has been warned too, if they are out for revenge, you Harry and Draco are all prime targets, please watch your back, sir."
Hermione sat back down and picked up her tea, staring resolutely ahead. If she'd known this conversation would result in a shouting match, she would have approached it completely differently. But then, if her aim was to distract Snape from his sadness, mission accomplished.
After a minute or two, Snape sat as well, and picked up his tea.
"Severus." He said quietly. "No talking."
"Deal." Hermione smiled. "Severus."
Later, as the sky began to grow dark, they headed inside together, side by side, still in silence. Before they turned towards the castle, Severus stopped, forcing Hermione to stop as well, and turn to face him. He was staring at the floor, looking uncomfortable and on edge.
"Sometimes," he said quietly. "I cannot stop myself from wondering what my life might have been like if I had ever had someone like you in it."
Hermione blinked and felt her heart race at this unexpected confession. She thought of Snape as the unclean little boy he had been, the sullen, moody teenager. Would she have stood by him then, as she did now? Hermione thought of all the trials and tribulations she had been through with her boys, she thought of their flaws and arguments and tempers. She would walk willingly into hell for them. Of course she would have stood by Snape. Severus. It wasn't even a question. And how would that support have effected his life? Hermione looked at the damaged man before her.
"Well, you have someone like me in it now." She said lightly. "Why don't we see how the rest of your life turns out?"
Something delicate flashed across Severus' pale face, before he rolled his eyes and smiled softly at her, and they continued walking back to the castle as the light faded.
Slow burns are so funny, 11 chapters in and we're here - so close and yet so far. I'm considering including Severus' perspective at some point, but I can't work out if that would ruin the flow of the story - any strong opinions let me know :)