A/N: Thanks for all the love in the comments! I think I'm going to be posting on Thursday nights/Friday mornings from here on out, so sorry for the delay of this chapter. We're going to start taking some baby steps forward, so lock in, because the slow is burning.
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.
"Leaving so soon, Sev?" Borgin asked, offering them both a toothy smile. "I assume your concerns were taken care of?"
"Yes, thank you, Cassius," Severus said lightly. "Miss Granger can apprise you of the details. I have other matters to attend to, so I'll take my leave."
Hermione found herself a little off-balance by his sudden departure. For the second time in a single minute, she found herself on the verge of calling him by his first name.
"Ss-Snape," she called, correcting herself only at the last moment. "How shall I notify you if something turns up?"
He twisted back around to look at her, black eyes boring directly into her soul. "You know where to find me."
Before she could respond, he'd slipped back into the street and the shop felt a bit darker for it. C'mon, Granger, you have a job to do. With a significant amount of effort, she pulled her eyes away from Snape's steady retreat and back to her work.
"Well, weren't you two cozy," Borgin said, causing her to jump when she remembered he was there.
"I-I have no idea what you're talking about," Hermione said, her voice only reaching its full strength by the end of the statement.
"Don't waste my time with lies," he said quietly. "A smart, pretty thing like you, and a cunning, ugly crow like him? Believe me when I say I know that game."
Hermione opened her mouth to deny it again when she caught the glint of Cassius's eyes as he glanced back at the office where they could hear Caractacus banging around and cursing at merchandise every so often. Oh. I suppose he does see, then.
"...I don't think he's ugly," she said quietly, looking down to fiddle with her wand on the counter top. After a moment she glanced up at Borgin again.
"And I don't think Ract is a sorry cuss," he said jovially. "Miss Granger, you've got it even worse than I thought."
Hermione could hardly believe she was standing there in Borgin and Burkes, discussing her crush on her old teacher with one of the dark shop's owners - who were apparently more than just business associates.
"Don't say anything, would you?" she asked pleadingly. "It's just a one-sided little thing, and I plan to get over it."
"Where's the Gryffindor bravery you lot bluster about all the time?" Borgin demanded. "No need for you to worry, it's none of my business. But if it was, and you were asking for advice, I would say to just…be around. Severus could use looking after anyhow."
Before she could ask for any clarification of the unexpected dating advice, Burke burst from the office, wrangling what looked like a possessed bit of rope.
"Cass! So glad to find you distracting the bloody do-gooder instead of helping me keep this business running. Do you need any crumpets, or perhaps you'd like to do your job!"
Cassius gave Hermione a knowing roll of his eyes before shuffling off behind his partner. She mustered her last functioning brain cell, shaking off the strange interaction, and got back to her work.
By the time she walked home, she was sure of it: Borgin and Burke had to make several monumental changes to their business structure in order to survive anything in the long term. She had no idea what those changes could entail at the moment, but more importantly, she'd have to find a way of convincing them (mostly Burke) to adapt. She wasn't looking forward to it.
As she pushed into her building, Hermione was confronted once again by the overwhelming knowledge of who lived in the basement flat. She allowed herself an indulgent moment to look at it, reflecting on her earlier interaction with the taciturn wizard who was doubtlessly inside. Remembering Cassian's perception of her emotions, she blushed and pulled herself away to trudge the long trip up the stairs.
Crookshanks was waiting for her on the landing, looking proud as ever as he perched atop something.
"I've told you to stay inside," she mock-whispered to her cat. "I can't have you out here terrorizing my neighbors and forcing them to pet you. What have you got there?"
With a satisfied meow, the half-Kneazle abandoned his post and Hermione bent to snatch the top book off the stack. "What Wards?: The Definitive Guide to Seamless and Invisible Protections," she read the title under her breath, immediately realizing what it was.
"Oh… wow," she whispered, her heart swelling as she rifled through the stack. She easily identified the books Severus had mentioned the weekend before about warding, and sure enough, when she opened the front covers, each possessed his name in that distinctive spiky handwriting. All told the books appeared to be well-loved and ranged widely in subject matter. Yet, as she read the title to each, she was reminded of different moments from their long conversation the night of the Gala.
As she looked at the small but significant collection right outside of her door, warmth flooded her chest. She thought she might even tear up, inordinately touched by such a thoughtfully curated stack. Severus did not strike her as the type who easily shared his possessions… She shook her head, beating back against the butterflies that threatened to overtake her sensibility. They were just books after all. As if any book has ever been 'just a book' for me. She needed to get a handle on this little crush of hers and be reasonable. For one further second, Hermione allowed her imagination to run wild as to all of the ways she could interpret this gift, before sweeping the thoughts from her mind like pesky flies.
Taking a deep breath, she levitated the books into her flat, directing them to her coffee table. She immediately went to the kitchen and put the kettle on, snagging a pepper-up potion from the fridge for good measure. She compiled a plate of snacks that would serve as her dinner for the evening and sent it along to the living room as well. Perhaps a little later, she'd order from a delivery service, but right now, it was all that she could manage to not have her face buried in the books already. But she needed to prepare herself properly, since there was absolutely no chance of her sleeping at all tonight.
It was 6 in the morning by the time Hermione felt reasonably sure she'd absorbed what she needed from the books about wards. Well, in truth, she had figured out what her attempts at Flourish and Blotts had been missing at around midnight, and had spent the rest of the time looking for confirmation in the other books. Glancing out of the window at the greying light of the winter morning, she knew she should feel exhausted. Instead, the excitement of her discoveries was like a current through her body. Research was all well and good; it was her bread and butter, the pursuit of knowledge that kept her going no matter what. But researching to solve a specific problem or answer a question? It was like ambrosia to her soul and psyche: sweet, righteous, and undeniably addictive.
This had been the exact reason she'd thought becoming an Auror would be the right path. Unfortunately, while MLE was certainly about finding some answers, the institution was quite a bit less concerned with finding the right answers. And when it came to addressing problems systematically, Hermione would have more luck telling a tree to dance the foxtrot with a garden gnome.
The vast majority of Aurors wanted answers that made sense to them. They didn't want complications. They wanted good versus evil. It was hard to understand how exactly her two best friends had managed to continue their law enforcement careers without a fraction of the problems she'd encountered. Of course, she'd always suspected gender played a significant role in both her treatment on cases, as well as her own perception of her surroundings. And it was no secret that Hermione had a long-standing concern for anyone who might be thoughtlessly downtrodden within wizarding society, simply out of tradition or ignorant biases.
But considering that question now in the afterglow of solving her first big conundrum in her new life, it occurred to her that this is what set her apart from Harry and Ron. Certainly, all three of them were curious in childhood, but she'd often been the one finding the answers. The other two, more than happy to investigate and creep around under the invisibility cloak, were quick to emotion and action, sometimes long before they understood the context and implications of what they were a part of. Her past hadn't been without impulsive moments, but as she'd had a little more distance from the war, she'd realized how unclear the division of good and evil had been, how chance their victory.
She'd been too close, best friend to the Chosen One, to realize it at the time. Voldemort himself was so impeccably demonic by the end, it was easy to think the wizarding world split into two clear camps. But in the aftermath, when she, Harry, and Ron had submitted testimony as witnesses to the defection of the Malfoy family, she'd realized things were hardly so clear-cut. Despite all of their goodness and valiant efforts, there is nothing members of the Order could have done to betray Voldemort in such a key way. Was a good deed made any less good if it was committed for the sake of self-preservation?
She noticed she was idly stroking the spine of the book she'd just closed. She flicked it open again to look at the owner's signature, tracing the ink with a fingertip. Perhaps Severus Snape was the most obvious example of all: the clear and tidy answer is not always the correct one. Applying words like good and evil to the trajectory of his role in both wars was like trying to chisel a detailed marble statue with a jackhammer.
That must be why I've started admiring him, then. It made almost too much sense. She'd struggled for nearly the past decade to articulate the complexity she saw in the world that her job had always demanded she simplify, to the extent that she'd started to believe it really was her problem. And then, in blusters the looming, sneering evidence that the world does not abide by regulatory code simply because someone at the Ministry wants as little paper work as possible.
Grinning down at the books, Hermione made a decision: she was going to work with him. She didn't care if he hadn't asked her to join his team, she was tired of waiting for him to get used to the idea or whatever Draco had suggested. And to be honest, she needed somewhere for all of this sudden energy towards him to go. If she had a project to work on, she could redirect the energy of her crush away from the failed venture of romance and into something actually useful.
With that settled, Hermione rose to start her day. She would take the next opportunity she got to make Severus Snape take her seriously. But first, there was a bookshop to charm.
When Granger's insistent knock sounded on the door to his basement flat, Severus actually heaved a sigh of relief. He'd been on edge since the night before. Between his implication that she could come calling with whatever she found at Borgin and Burke's and the books he'd lent her, he could be hearing from his upstairs neighbor at any time. Might as well have put out a neon sign. Despite managing to get some good work done on his potions research, waiting was always the hardest thing. Or at least that's what he told himself.
"Snape, I've got some things I'm sure you'd like to see." He had enough good sense to stop himself from rushing to the door, instead just opening it with a wave of his hand from where he stood at his kitchen counter.
"Come in," he said, the words catching in his throat when he saw her. Hermione Granger stood in his doorway beaming with such jubilance, he nearly shut the door in her face. She clutched two wine glasses in one hand and a bottle of Elven wine in the other. She was terrifying in her brightness, a heavenly harbinger of all of his weaknesses. The only reason he didn't send her right back out again was that she very likely did have information for him.
"Good evening!" she said glowingly. The witch wasted no time entering, bustling in and walking directly to the dining table. She swiftly poured two glasses of wine, pushing one into his hands and stepped back.
Before he could demand an explanation, she raised her glass towards him.
"We're celebrating," she said, taking a healthy swig from her glass. It was then he noticed the slight flush of her cheeks and the almost-imperceptible glaze of intoxication over her eyes.
"It looks like you've gotten a head start," he gritted out, placing his own glass on the table untouched. "And why, pray tell, are you celebrating?"
"We! We are celebrating because, thanks to your books," she paused to clink her glass against the one he'd abandoned. "I was able to complete my enchantment on Flourish and Blott's."
That came as a surprise. He'd given her three considerable tomes on the subject and hadn't expected to hear results for another several days.
"Are you quite sure?" he asked, unable to resist the allure of being a bit thorny, especially when she was this obnoxiously tipsy. Why am I entertaining any of this? "I can't imagine you found the time to actually absorb what was in those books so quickly."
She giggled, and he had to glare down at his untouched drink to avoid smiling at the sound.
"That's what an all-nighter with a photographic memory can do, thank you very much," she said, winking. Inexplicably, her words caused heat to creep up his neck and he cursed himself for being so easily imbalanced. I should just kick her out, I'd be well within my rights.
"All of that is well and good, Granger," he said, trying to put himself back together. "But—"
"Hermione!" she interrupted, her honey brown eyes going wide. "You shall call me Hermione. I know it's a bit of a difficult one, four syllables and all. Kids at school always had a bit of trouble on their first go. Hell! Harry and the Weasleys typically just say the last part of it."
Severus scowled, knowing he should be bothered by her familiarity. His resolve against his own attraction to her was weakening again. He did have something of a soft spot for loud, bossy witches of high intellect. The majority of his colleagues at Hogwarts fell squarely into that category, though none of them had been as beguiling as the woman in front of him now. No, you fool, put these passing delusions aside, and focus on what you need from the girl. For the time being, he'd pacify her with the adjustment in address.
"Well, then, Hermione," he drawled, letting sarcasm color his voice. "Congratulations. Wasn't there something else you had to tell me about?"
"Oh!" the witch gasped as if she'd forgotten all about the work he'd entrusted her. "Yes, that's right— I got some information on those artifacts from Borgin and Burkes today. Came here straight away…well, nearly straight away." She took another large swig of her wine.
Severus waited, expecting her to continue. After a long moment in which they stared at each other, his eyes cold, hers warm and a little unfocused, he decided that he was quite done waiting.
"Out with it then, Granger!" he growled, turning away from her and back to his cauldron, regretting answering the door in the first place. "I'm busy and don't have time to entertain drunken neighbors. I need whatever turned up in your search about those artifacts, sparing the histrionics if you will."
"Oh, I don't think that's how this is going to go, at all," she said, her voice suddenly as sober as it had sounded before she entered the room. He whipped his head around to see her sitting primly at his table, all physiological signs of her inebriation gone. "And I was serious about the name thing. Come, sit. We have much to discuss."
Floored by her sudden transformation, Severus didn't realize he had sat down until Hermione reached out and touched his hand. Too shocked to pull back, he settled for glaring at her.
"You see, Severus—may I call you Severus?" she said, her eyes politely meeting his steely gaze. When he didn't answer she continued. "Ah, we'll deal with that later. I'm actually here to celebrate something else in addition to my success at the bookshop, but I'll need your help once again."
"And why would I possibly help you again when your form of gratitude manifests with this odd encounter?" he asked through gritted teeth.
"Well, I'm hoping that we can help each other," she said confidently. "I think we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement."
Despite his best intentions, his mind whirled at the possible interpretations of her words. Don't go there, you idiot. Needless to say, her current shift in comportment was throwing him even more than her usual disarming way. He dared a silent and gentle Legilimens, finding her mind politely but completely closed off to him. As he pulled his probing back, he found her grinning wickedly.
"Impatient tonight, aren't we?" she taunted. "Someone recently told me to not be so open."
Now she listens. He narrowed his gaze at her, swallowing against a dizzying mix of emotions. She was toying with him, which he decidedly did not like and never abided by. But as he waited for his usual anger to bubble forth and present him with some witty barb to put her off, it didn't come. In its stead appeared to be something more akin to genuine fascination. At least that gave him an obvious way forward: he rolled his eyes skyward, relaxing in his chair.
"You'll find I grow bored of tiresome games quite quickly, Miss Granger," he lied easily, inspecting his nails. "Either divulge what you are getting at, or leave my flat. It matters not to me."
Somehow, he managed to appear unruffled through her light giggle, though internally it only increased his frustrated interest.
"I want in." She said the words simply, her eyes serious. "Your agency, whatever you're working on over there." She gestured to the cauldron on the countertop. "I want to be a part of it."
It was only thanks to his Occlumency shields that Severus managed not to smile.
"And what makes you think you'd be any help to me?" he demanded.
"Well, at present, I have the information you need to continue your current investigation. Of course, you could find all that out some other way, but it seems a mighty waste when I know you've been looking for someone to share the work with."
"Miss Granger, are you trying to coerce your way into a job?" he asked, finally allowing some of his mirth to curl his lips into a cruel-looking smile. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen."
A shadow flickered in her eyes, one he'd never seen before. This darkness looked vengeful and heated.
"I may be no Slytherin, but I'm hardly the princess of Gryffindor Tower any longer." Yes, there was definitely some story there he didn't understand yet. It only spurred his interest further and he contemplated exactly how to respond when she spoke again. "But I'm not looking to be your employee. I want to be your partner."
Yet again, her words spurred his mind into matters that were worlds away from professionalism. She misread his momentary silence as a rejection of the suggestion.
"Despite my current knack for filing, I'm no secretary as you well know. I'm hardly content to be a Moneypenny to your James Bond, Severus." Is she making these implications on purpose? She was going to drive him mad before he even agreed to the partnership. "I think we both know that my temper hardly makes me fit for handling clients. Perhaps I have a tad more patience than yourself, but it's hardly endless, and at the end of that rope is a bomb. Additionally, I am skilled in the field, whether it be reconnaissance, covert operations, or hostile situations. I understand that I only have a fraction of the experience you do, but I'm hoping that you'll value my unique perspectives and quick-thinking, as well as my project management skills."
She ended her spiel, never breaking eye contact with him as he watched her. Severus was trying to figure out how to agree to such a thing without revealing his excitement at the prospect. He'd made up his mind days ago to hire her, but even he agreed that a good chunk of her talent would be wasted if she were relegated to organizational work. He should be angry instead of charmed that she was trying to force his decision, but behind the walls of his Occlumency, there was no consternation to be found. He appreciated the quid pro quo logic of her presentation, as well as the risk she'd taken in challenging him like that. And he quite liked being given the excuse of needing the information she had as a reason for hiring her. It appeared that they could both get what they wanted.
"You've worked this all out nicely in your favor, haven't you?" he accused. "Do tell, when did you begin to hatch this little plan"
A lovely blush painted her cheeks and for the first time since she'd dropped her drunken act, she appeared as she normally did. "I've been interested ever since I first saw you in Hemlocke's office. But I only decided for certain after I read the books you lent me and figured out what was missing. I like solving problems and helping people. And I want to work with someone who understands and supports that."
It was a much more sincere answer than he'd been expecting. He was nearly compelled to tell her he'd been thinking about including her in his work for just as long. Blast it, now's hardly the time for you to start blubbering. He just needed to stick the landing, then he'd be home free. He heaved a dramatically resigned sigh.
"I suppose you've given me no choice but to agree," he said languidly. "On a provisional basis, of course, but partners nonetheless."
"Really!?" Hermione said, standing up with excitement. "Oh, this will be excellent!"
He smirked at her genuine reaction, idly wondering if he'd just made the best or worst decision of his professional life. He'd have to get a handle on his wandering thoughts, but as distance hadn't helped, perhaps greater exposure was the way. They'd be working together, and he hoped the mundane drudgery of such a thing would dilute their more enchanting experiences of pubs and balls and long walks in the cold.
He stood, reaching one arm towards her. "We'll draw up an official contract later, but for now, a simple agreement to work out those details will do."
She clasped his forearm briskly and magic zapped between them. It was hardly a significant vow, but the ferocity of the current running between them was surprisingly intense. Severus glanced from their shared grasp up to her face, where her wide eyes told him she felt it too. He could feel static lifting his hair slightly, her curls floating up around her face. He knew he should break the connection, but he couldn't find it within him, completely drawn in by the hungry look in her eyes.
The door slammed open unceremoniously, causing the focus between them to shutter off, though they did not release one another.
"Snape! I've come to make sure you're not mooning awa— oh!" Draco stopped in the doorway his eyes widening at the scene before him and a knowing smile lighting up his features. "Ah, finally! Welcome to the team Granger!"