A/N: I hope you enjoy this double chapter drop as much as I enjoyed writing it. We'll get back to the magical theory and detective work soon, I promise!
Shoutout to my alpha readers Ruby, Juby, and Bryra, as well as my mom and my husband for all the encouragement along the way!
Massive amounts of thanks to SnakegirlSprocket for beta-ing and getting this ready for fan eyes!
And of course, if you're here, you probably know - I do not own Harry Potter, I just like to play here.
Hermione was surprised when Snape's pointed demand was accompanied by the offer of his hand. She looked at it for a few seconds, his pale palm facing upward while his long fingers implored her to grasp a hold. Looking back into his unreadable black eyes, she placed her own hand tentatively in his and he swept them into the dance.
Her surprise quickly gave way to shock. He was a good lead, holding her within the strong frame of his arms, his other hand firm on the small of her back. She was suddenly fervently worried that she might step on his feet, racking her memory for the instructions they'd received leading up to the Yule Ball. Hermione had been to plenty of events like this one since then, but she'd either been with Ron, who was not very gifted on the dance floor, or had danced with long-time friends.
Those casual dances were a world away from Snape's very traditional, yet smooth movements around the room. She almost forgot why she'd asked him to dance in the first place, so caught up in the moment until she looked back up to find him scowling.
Right, I'm supposed to explain myself.
"You're a fabulous dancer," she said, noting that despite everything, her voice still rang with her Occlumency, polite and automatic. If those psychic walls were not in place, she would have winced and blushed with embarrassment.
"Granger," he said warningly, his eyes flashing with contempt. "If I wanted to hear empty compliments, there are plenty of others here I could speak to from the comfort of a chair."
Hermione took a breath, trying to decide where to start. I'm realizing my whole career was a joke. Maybe she had overreacted…she should just describe her quandary quickly and let Snape get back to his night. Turns out, I'm nothing but breeding stock to them. She slowly tried to put together a sentence that would free them both from this strange moment. I've wasted so much time thinking anyone took me seriously.
Snape hissed, squeezing the hand he held tightly to get her attention.
"Really," he said sternly. "You're liable to freeze my hand off, occluding like that." Despite his disapproving words, he enclosed her fingers completely in his own larger grip.
She found his eyes.
"I'm worried if I drop them, it will be too sudden. I'll lose control," she said, reaching tentatively out towards his mind with the small wisp of her magic that wasn't committed to her shields. "Could you…"
Once again, she noted his surprise, though none of it registered on his impassive face. She did not, however, miss the flash of anger that wrinkled his forehead a moment later.
"Do you understand how idiotically dangerous that is? Offering your mind to an experienced Legilimens? They really taught you nothing at the Aurory."
"That may be so…but it's you," she said plainly. And she meant it. Long before Hermione had ever known just how much Snape sacrificed for the Order and the protection of the greater wizarding world, he'd been very protective of the Hogwarts students. She could recall a handful of times he'd directly come to her aid and protection throughout the years before the war. He might have been a bastard, and something of her own personal nightmare as the only legitimate teacher that refused to praise her excellent work (she didn't count Umbridge). But he repeatedly put himself in harm's way for others. Perhaps she was being reckless these days, numbed by her current crisis…but that was also exactly why she needed his help at the moment. "Please."
His face went blank. She worried he would finally dismiss her, and she would have to run from the hall until she found somewhere safe to have a full breakdown. But then she felt him tapping lightly at her shields.
"I'm going to use Legilimency, but only just," he warned, his eyes intent on hers. "Only yield to the exact amount of pressure I apply."
"Yes," she said. In her mind, she found the place where he tapped against and softened the barrier around her thoughts. Hermione released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding as Snape slowly approached the thoughts and emotions that were raging within her. This time, she didn't have the control to offer up a coherent memory for them both to view. Instead, he seemed to take each fragment as it came, acknowledging its weight and then releasing it back to her. By no means was her pain or angst disappearing. But he gently cycled through her thoughts, carving out an ever-growing window in her protective walls, each jagged edge beginning to smooth. All the while, they danced across the floor.
"And I thought I was having a rough night," he said quietly, never breaking the eye contact that was key to her steady pressure release.
Hermione laughed and she was heartened to hear the sound ring true.
"Can I…is it safe enough to lower them the rest of the way?" she asked, not wanting to rush and have the painstaking process be all for not.
"Only you can answer that," he scoffed. "Even if you were to burst into tears right here, I imagine you could always blame it on something I said. However, I do feel confident that at this point, your magic won't lash out uncontrollably."
With another deep breath, Hermione dropped the remaining walls of her Occlumency, and felt the warmth of magic return to her extremities. She smiled up at Snape, feeling the return of her emotions, still intense, but not nearly as raw. Then, she sighed in relief, stepping closer to him as they moved, her focus returning to the dance. He stiffened slightly at her proximity, her head nearly resting on his shoulder, but he didn't stop leading their movements. Now that she was fully in the moment, she could smell the scent of herbs and smoke on him and found it quite comforting.
"Thank you," she whispered gratefully, nearly moved to tears by the service he'd done for her. "I owe you one."
"I'm still considering a number of psychic attacks that would disabuse you of this habit."
She bit back a smile lest he take it as provocation and make good on his threats. "Yes, Snape."
They continued to spin and sway to the music in silence. Hermione wondered if she should feel a bit strange given the identity of her dancing partner, but she found that she simply couldn't be bothered. It was the realest interaction she'd had all night despite the slights to her intelligence he'd muttered…and besides, he looked quite dashing in his dress robes.
She straightened slightly when she felt a rumble of low laughter in his chest.
"Miss Weasley is watching us like a hawk."
Hermione looked to find he was right. Ginny caught her eye and though no Legilimency was used, she could tell her friend would be demanding an explanation for the actions she'd taken tonight.
"She's Mrs. Potter now," Hermione replied matter-of-factly, not wanting to think too much about how she would describe her evening to her friends.
"As if I could look at her hair and expressions and see anything besides 'Weasley,'" he drawled, and Hermione chuckled.
"I know, it's quite strange whenever we're out and introductions are made," she whispered conspiratorially. "I haven't yet grown accustomed to it."
The song came to an end and Snape slowed their movements. As soon as the music was over, he released her completely, and Hermione found she was slightly disappointed by the sudden lack of contact. Get a grip, Hermione. He's your old professor who you just clung to like a life preserver. She was about to thank him again and finally get around to asking after Hogwarts and its complex wards, when someone pulled insistently on her shoulder. She turned to see Ginny had made her way over in the last moments of the song.
"Bloody hell, 'Mione," she whispered through low giggles. "Looks like you've got much more than a drinking partner."
Hermione batted at her arm, hushing Ginny as she twisted to see if Snape had overheard. But he was already retreating into the crowd, the blue velvet of his coat disappearing in a sea of other richly colored robes. She lost sight of him as Baxtley stepped into view, still flanked by the other idiots from the Aurory.
"Granger," he said, stepping forward and clasping her hand. "You alright? Not Imperioused are you? I don't think I've ever seen someone dance with Severus Snape."
Hermione gritted her teeth. "No, I'm quite alright, Killian."
"Back off, Baxtley," Ginny sighed, but the slightly intoxicated Auror paid her no attention.
"Time for that dance?" he said, pulling her closer. "Don't be a tease now."
This time when Hermione snapped, the result wasn't Occlusion. Instead, she began laughing.
"How dare you…" she began darkly, her mind running through what hex would be best in this scenario. She didn't give a damn that they were surrounded, she was angry and ready to do something about it. "Let go of me, you—"
"What Miss Granger means to say…" said a familiar and silky voice by her shoulder. "...is that she already promised the next dance to me. I would thank you to please wait your turn."
Ginny's eyes widened and Baxtley's face twisted angrily before he stalked away muttering something about 'greasy Slytherins' as he went.
"We have lots to talk about, young miss," Ginny said before leaving to seek out Harry.
Hermione turned to face Draco Malfoy who was wearing a diplomat's smile, though the hint of his all-too-familiar sneer danced about his lips like a ghost.
"Shall we?" he said as the music picked up again. "Otherwise, I'll be more than happy to yield my time to Baxtley, even though he's a bloody idiot."
Narrowing her eyes in suspicion, Hermione decided that the old enemy she knew was much better than the ex-coworker who'd unknowingly ruined her night. She accepted Draco's hand and began to dance. He was much less formal than Snape had been, loosely and almost lazily guiding her around the floor.
"Why did you interrupt me Malfoy," she hissed through a false smile. "I was about to tell him off."
"Well, that's exactly why," he said with a playful quirk to his eyebrows. "Can't have you burning all your bridges, can we?"
"I think some bridges are better destroyed," she said. "He deserves to be told off."
"Granger, you're still such a Gryffindor," Draco sighed. "Perhaps at the moment you want nothing to do with the Aurory, but do keep in mind that most of the ministry departments directly report to someone in Magical Law Enforcement. You may want to destroy someone like Baxtley to satisfy your own sense of justice, but you're thinking much too short term."
"And why's that Malfoy?" she hissed through her teeth. "Strange time for you to become interested in my well being."
He chuckled. "Well, I must admit, the concern is more for my godfather than it is for you. Regardless of what he thinks, it would do Snape little good to have you blustering about at a society event. In fact, I'm sure he'd gleefully watch you exact your revenge and throw in a hex or two for good measure. But I'm sure you know by now about the agency he's trying to establish. He's already fighting an uphill battle with the Ministry. Do try and not make things worse."
Hermione flushed with embarrassment and rage. "And what the hell does one have to do with the other? Because he danced with me? Spare me the sexism, Draco. I'm not responsible for the emotions of the men around me."
Draco rolled his eyes infuriatingly. "And you're supposed to be bright. Perhaps my worry is misplaced after all."
Before she could scream at him, he continued. "Your comportment and Snape's pursuits are related because I very much wish for him to hire you."
Hermione gaped at him. She would have been less shocked if he'd just declared himself King of France. "What?"
"Don't look so surprised, Granger, you know how he is," Draco said as if this was such a simple concept and she was being purposely slow. "He's a genius…and a miserable sod who doesn't play well with others. Whoever he works with will have to have nerve, which, as evidenced by tonight, you have in excess. And he won't have to hold your hand through the complicated bits."
Hermione seethed at Draco as he spun her out in an elegant, if showy, turn. But even still, her mind latched onto the idea enthusiastically. It was true that she'd found herself thinking of the nascent detective agency more than a few times over the past week.
"Wouldn't he have asked me to join if he wanted me?" she asked, thoughtful now as her anger melted away. "I just left a job that held my efforts in contempt at every turn of the way…I can't see how Snape would be any different."
"Don't you?" His silver eyes bored into her and she had the disconcerting feeling of being read, although she sensed no magic behind his stare. "I may be no mind reader, but even I could tell you were in a right state earlier. One dance with our dear Potions Master, and you're the same old Granger once again. I think you know that he values actions over words."
She thought of how Snape had enclosed her hand in his in some attempt to warm her fingers against the frigidity of her Occlumency. The entire dance itself had been to help her come back to center even though he really got nothing out of it. Draco took her silence as confirmation, spinning her around once more.
"And to answer your first question, Snape is quite stubborn. And seemingly committed to being unhappy. He's also under the impression that you would never consider working with him." She opened her mouth to refute, but he interrupted her again. "I know—that is not the case, I can see that much."
"So…what?" she demanded, thoroughly exhausted by his Slytherin double-speak at this point. She was intrigued by the possibility of assisting Snape with his venture…but Draco's interest made her suspicious. "Why are you telling me any of this?"
"Because Snape might need some convincing. Not directly, of course. He'll just refuse you on impulse and then continue to do so to spite you. Just…be around. I think he actually likes answering your questions and I know he was thrilled to get his hands on that manual you gave him."
"Well, I was planning on asking him about wards when I was rudely interrupted," she said accusingly.
"And now, I'm giving you your chance," Draco said slyly. "He's leaving now, but I'm sure he'd escort you home if you asked. He's really too principled to let a witch wander the streets alone."
Hermione hadn't been paying much attention to their pathway around the room. Draco had been steering their dancing towards the exit the entire time and she caught a flash of deep blue velvet whisking through the doors. With one last flourishing spin, Malfoy led her off the floor and into the surrounding crowd. She glanced back at him, still not entirely sure why he was so involved.
"Or if you prefer, it appears that your dance card could easily fill up this evening."
Without another word, she turned and pounded a quick path to the exit. She'd question Malfoy's motives later. As she walked, she sent a quick Patronus message to Ginny that she'd talk to her in the morning and was heading home early. Hermione doubted that Snape actually wanted to work with her, but that didn't mean she couldn't get some valuable information out of him for her own purposes.
Severus welcomed the embrace of the cold air outside as it meant he was finally free of the ball. He made his way through the streets, hoping the frigid air would bring some clarity to his thoughts. He wasn't sure what exactly had been more uncomfortable: rubbing elbows with wizarding society elites, or dancing with Hermione Granger. The former had been a distasteful necessity (if Draco was to be trusted). And the latter had been completely unnecessary, and yet…not at all unpleasant.
That was exactly the source of his current perturbation. After the dance had ended, he'd actually expected her to follow him off the floor to continue conversing. Turning and finding her waylaid, he'd felt an immediate flash of pique at his own social neediness. He was typically quite adept at expecting nothing from others, and the rare mistake had set him on a self-critical edge. Clearly, the physical and psychological intimacy of their dance had caught him so off guard, his mind had thrown the baby out with the bathwater. What did you expect? That you would actually have fun at the ball, like fucking Cinderella? Better leave before your head turns into a pumpkin, Snivellus.
He was in this state of masochistic humor, hardly a block away from the Ministry, when he heard someone call his name. Severus spun on the spot, seething at himself.
"Snape," Granger said, her eyes widening at what must be a terrifyingly mad expression on his face. He quickly schooled his features into something less revealing of his state of mind. "I was hoping to chat a bit more, if you have the time?"
Despite his best efforts, a bright beacon of joy lit in his chest. He scowled at himself, but couldn't find it within him at the moment to outright refuse her request when he had been enjoying her company.
"Come to use me again, Granger?" he asked.
Her hopeful expression dropped and she looked horrified.
"Use you…oh, you can't possibly think that! I apolo—" he chuckled at her genuine remorse and she paused, as if suddenly remembering to whom she was speaking. "Oh, you're taking the mick. Well, I was hoping to thank you with a drink. Maybe impose a bit more on your knowledge, but that hardly seems unfair since you love to lecture, don't you? But if you'd rather be a bastard…"
She shrugged and walked past him. He was astounded by her rather casual tone. When she didn't turn to see if he followed even as she turned a corner, he gritted his teeth and walked briskly to catch up. It wasn't hard to match her pace given the difference in their strides. To his surprise, she turned and flashed a genuine smile at him. He grimaced back.
They pushed into the Leaky Cauldron, and Granger carved a path to the same booth they'd sat in earlier that week.
"What'll you have?" she asked as she removed her cloak and set it on the booth. He hadn't noticed how intricate the lace on her bodice was earlier, he'd been entirely too focused on carefully breaking open her mind. Now, he forced himself to stop admiring the threaded design of ivy and flowers that wrapped around her waist, instead looking around as if he were considering her question
"Just tea for me," he said.
"Are you sure?" she asked. "I think Tom's got all sorts of fun new options. Guava juice, horchata…"
She stopped at his sneer and giggled.
"Right, just a moment, then," she said and wandered up to place the order. He resisted watching her, instead looking around the bar at nothing in particular.
She returned with the tea service and a crystal goblet of something deep red for herself a moment later.
"Pomegranate juice," she said, lifting her goblet towards him. "Couldn't resist."
Severus watched her take a sip, not for the first time that evening dumbfounded by the surreality that seemed to follow this witch. With a sharp intake of breath, he prepared his cup.
"And to what do I owe the indescribable pleasure of finding myself here with you again so soon, Miss Granger?" He ladled sarcasm heavily into the words, though it really wasn't such a dreadful alternative to going back to his apartment and the endless experimentation that awaited him.
"First of all, thank you," she said. He began to protest. "No, truly. I know you were just joking, but I don't utilize your skills lightly. I clearly have some work to do so that such things are not necessary in the future. But tonight, I am very thankful that you were there and that you put up with my two left feet in order to provide assistance. Thank you."
Severus bit back his immediate knee-jerk reaction to insist that her dancing hadn't bothered him. At least not in the way she thinks. Instead, he calmly drank his tea. She was too genuine, too warm.
"I won't say 'you're welcome' as you really should never be that vulnerable with your mind," he said slowly. Especially with me. "But I'll grudgingly receive your acknowledgement."
Granger nodded, her amber eyes dancing with mirth while her face remained business-like.
"And now…" he prompted, hoping she'd move to her point quickly. He didn't like how at ease he was in the booth…continually having to remind himself of who they both were. "To your next imposition?"
"Yes." Granger said, taking another sip. She placed the goblet down, and he watched her fingers drum against the stem of the crystal. "I am trying to create a complex and cohesive system of charms and wards for the shop. I want the shelves, inventory, and books to be as close to sentience as is needed for the owners and their workers. I also want the system to be nearly impenetrable to the casual onlooker…or say the average Ministry stooge."
Severus was unsure what exactly he'd been expecting, but it hadn't been this. However, he wasn't sure what he could tell her; it was far from his area of expertise…a fact that she should know.
"Granger, what you're describing is quite the undertaking. I'm hardly the best to ask…you'd probably get a much better idea of what is needed if you were to ask Filius Flitwick. He used to never shut up about your work in his classes, so I imagine he'd be delighted to hear from you."
"Yes, but Professor Flitwick has never been headmaster of Hogwarts," she said. "I know the headmasters have a special connection with the castle. I also know that you assisted in replacing the enchantments after the war. And before you ask, I've already sent a letter to McGonagall as well, but given she is actively Headmistress, I won't be surprised if it takes her some time to get back to me."
Snape stirred his tea absently. Seems a lot of trouble just for a store. "I'll tell you what I can, though it will be little help. I might have some books on the subject. But I'd like to ask why you believe there is a need for such strong magic?"
Granger drank the ruby juice again. This time when she set it down, her finger drifted around the rim, a shimmering tone ringing out lightly under her ministrations. It was oddly…for lack of a better word, enchanting. As he waited for her answer, Snape drained his cup and poured himself another. Get a grip, Snivellus.
"What I've been learning about this transition to wand payments is concerning. There's entirely too much margin for abuse on the part of the Ministry. I'm all for the businesses paying their taxes properly, but…nothing is ever that innocuous. If they want oversight, it's for a reason. And in my current role, I feel no need to assist them in their power tripping through surveillance and general descent into casual authoritarianism."
He couldn't help the beginnings of a grin that curled his lips. She really did seem to grasp just how delicate of a balance it was. He was no stranger to fascism, having lived between two despotic leaders, neither of whom had tolerated insubordination. By the end, the Dark Lord had sought power and control simply for the sake of it, choosing domination no matter how small the issue. Dumbledore, on the other hand, may not have been a wholly-corrupted, nihilistic, reptilian megalomaniac, but his word had been law to Severus. The twinkling bastard had always held more of the keys to Severus's innermost chambers where he locked his demons away and possessed little shame in jingling the chains when it behooved his plans. Snape was inordinately pleased that Hermione Granger had somehow looked through the scarlet-and-gold tinged glasses of their victory and had still found the world lacking. It was not a perspective he'd expected from her.
And so he told her all he could about such charms. He managed to pepper in a few backhanded compliments to keep either of them from getting too cozy.
However, soon her face was glowing with excitement, and she scribbled on a small colored notepad that looked vaguely familiar with a ballpoint pen. After an indeterminable amount of time, tea, and juice later, they took their conversation out to the chilled night, walking in no direction in particular.
Despite having no alcohol since the single sip of champagne he'd taken to get Draco off his back about being a dreadful party guest, Severus was buzzing. Caffeine typically had little noticeable effect on him after so many years of abuse. And while he'd had a respectable amount of strong tea, he knew the true source of his elation was the brilliant witch who walked beside him. How long had it been since he'd had this much fun talking about magical theory? He'd always known she was quite intelligent, but her plans for Flourish & Blotts were inspired. He told her so, in his own way.
"Granger, only you would turn a run-of-the-mill temp job into something you could submit to an academic journal."
"You think I should?" she asked with a snort before continuing to pelt him with more questions.
At one point, he actually laughed as she relayed the story of her first day at the shop.
"I thought I had smelled smoke when I came in," he chuckled. Then he caught her staring at him open-mouthed. "What?"
"Nothing…I just didn't know you could laugh like that," she said calmly, and he rolled his eyes at her honesty.
"Perhaps you've never said anything quite so funny before." It was a lie, of course. In truth, he just usually didn't feel so comfortable as to laugh.
Thoughts of Draco's suggestions of hiring her barraged him. Maybe he could work with her. She was certainly brilliant enough, and she did not need to be convinced of the failings of the Ministry. In fact, he was fairly certain she was even more embittered than he was. While he was no friend to the current regime, his complaints were more distantly philosophical. In the moments when her true angst reared its head, it became clear that her issues with the Ministry were extremely personal and hard won through direct experience. Severus found that he wanted to hear all about it, but didn't want to sour the mood at all. He was about to broach the question of her future career machinations when he realized they'd come to a stop.
He was startled by the realization that they stood outside of his building. A rush of unexpected emotions filtered through him: embarrassment that he'd gotten so caught up in their conversation as to not keep track of his surroundings; anxiety at the fact he'd exposed where he lived to someone other than Draco; and a special type of self-loathing that was becoming steadily more familiar, reserved for moments in which he seemed to be mindlessly enacting scenes from a romantic comedy.
For her part, Granger's smile was easy, her head tilting to one side as she watched him with bright eyes. He had a crazed impulse to reach up and caress her cheek, currently flushed with the cold and the merriment of their discussion, and pull her into a kiss. What the hell has gotten into me? He reasoned that there'd be plenty of time to determine the exact moment he'd lost his mind once he was alone. Then again, she was standing there somewhat expectantly…
"Well," they said simultaneously. They broke into their customary expressions, Severus scowling as Granger grinned.
"I've had a wonderful time this evening, despite everything," Granger said. She took a step up the first stair of the stoop. "Thanks for the walk."
Severus's frown deepened. He'd been about to ask if she had a quick apparition to her dwelling, but her movement threw him for a loop. Unless…
His heart thudded violently in his chest. He really couldn't imagine that Granger was so forward as to invite herself in…or what it would possibly mean. Some long-dead part of him jolted into exaltation, though he tried to crush it down again as his mind reeled to understand.
Granger was halfway up the steps now, and he tentatively followed, feeling as though he was underwater. Abruptly, she turned on the spot and he froze. Her face was more pink than it had been a moment ago and she was looking anywhere besides his face.
"Um…Snape, do you want to come in?" she asked.
His mouth was faster than his brain, buying him time as his thoughts went into overdrive. "I think that's a given."
Is there any other way to interpret what she's saying? This cannot be right. Granger bit her lip and met his eyes as he walked up the steps, passing her to open the door.
As he held it open for her, her eyebrows drew together in confusion.
"Wait…how did you open the wards—"
She was interrupted as a small orange thing darted out of the open door. Snape cursed, lunging too late after the foyer cat's attempt to escape.
"Oh, no you don't, Crookshanks!" Granger called out emphatically, swooping down to snatch the half-Kneazle. She stepped inside the foyer behind Snape and he stared at the cat in her arms, understanding slamming into him like a brick wall.
He finally had enough wherewithal to process and answer her question.
"I live here. I could open the wards because I live here." His voice sounded stilted even to his own ears. "That's…your cat."
It wasn't a question. Everything was suddenly catching up to Severus and by the look on Granger's face, his words had inspired a similar enlightenment for her as well. Again, they spoke over each other, pointing in accusation.
"You're the note-posting busybody!"
"You're the basement witch!"
"Basement witch?"
"Busybody?"
They stood, grimacing at each other and panting lightly from the strange revelation. Severus could nearly read the emotions running across Granger's face without any magic. Realization, something that looked like excitement, and then the deepening blush of greater embarrassment.
That last one made him want to scream. He was the one who should be embarrassed. I'm the old creep, wallowing in my dungeons, so out of touch with my neighbors that I actually thought Granger was inviting herself to my chambers. For what exactly, he didn't want to think about just then. He would need to have things to hex and break for that.
"Good evening, Miss Granger," he said icily, turning heel to march to his flat. For good measure, he glared back and added, "And keep control of that bloody animal."
"Snape!" she called, rousing from her frozen state too late. He slammed his door, sending an extra burst of power into his wards and casting another silencing charm on his rooms. He was about to scream curses at the couch cushions when he realized they were presently occupied by none other than Draco Malfoy.
"Found out, did you?" he asked with a shit-eating grin. Just like that, all of Snape's rage evaporated, replaced by a bone-tired weariness that caused him to visibly sag.
"Since when have you known?" he asked quietly. Without the energy to loom, he felt like a dementor who was about to get the sack for bad attitude. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Just the other night, when I left here," he replied, summoning a glass of water and sending it towards Severus. He batted it away. "And I half-thought you might already know."
"I didn't," he said bleakly. He couldn't believe how stupid he'd been. He wanted to start a detective agency and he didn't even recognize that damned cat of hers. Or her handwriting! How many inches of parchment had he poured over with that exact neat handwriting and know-it-all tone?
"You're being dramatic, Severus," Draco said. The out-of-character use of his first name by the younger wizard pulled him out of his spiral to glare into the face that was so much like his old friend's. "I would think this is a good thing, no?"
"Good thing?" Severus muttered, more to himself than his godson. In fact, that same perverse part of his psyche that had been preening in the attention from Granger, daring him towards an uncrossable line, perked up and agreed with Draco's words. "How could you possibly see this as a good thing?"
Suddenly, Draco didn't look as sure of himself, his leering smile softening into a politely bemused expression. "Well…didn't you pull her onto the project? It's just an added convenience that she's so easily accessible, given the hours you typically keep."
Snape rubbed his eyes, regretting that he'd only drank tea earlier and not something stronger. Somehow, he managed to answer with a single "No." He didn't trust himself to say much else at the moment. Silence pervaded the flat, only punctuated by the occasional crack of wood in the fire.
Slowly, Severus looked up to find Draco very confused, his genteel demeanor completely absent.
"If that's the case, where the hell have you been for the past three hours?"
There was no actual accusation behind the question, but there didn't need to be. Severus had plenty of damning evidence to supply. It was suddenly too much to be inside and so vulnerable in front of Draco in this flat that was supposed to be his sacred escape from the world, but was now known to Granger, who he may or may not have wanted to spend the night with.
"I'm going out," Snape said. "Get the cauldron started. We will discuss this no further when I return."
Before his godson could protest, Snape had thrown open the door, only pausing to confirm that Granger was nowhere in sight when he burst back out into the cold night.