Back in the Headlines

I would like to thank J. K. Rowling for inventing the wonderful world of Harry Potter. Her amazing imagination has made this story possible. All of the characters and locations are hers. I make no money from the writing or sharing of this story.

I would also like to thank my diligent betas, JENGEORGE and NervousAboutAngels. They help me in so many ways.

Chapter 4

Back in the Headlines

Snape forced himself to get up at 1:30 p.m. this afternoon. He had decided after he got home the evening before that he would need to slowly go back to sleeping at night if he was going to be corresponding with Miss Granger. So he planned to wake up a half hour earlier each day until his routine became what most people considered "normal." But he found it hard to get out of bed since he had lain awake for hours that morning thinking of Miss Granger, and probably only managed about four hours of sleep.

He wondered what she looked like now after bearing two children and sitting at a desk most of the day for the past eighteen years. Was that lovely young woman's figure only a memory? He couldn't imagine her to be the kind to let herself go, but people do strange things when they are stuck in a miserable situation. Some people lose their appetite when they suffer stress, others can't stop eating. He had almost starved himself to death the many years he had spent as a spy. The horrors he was forced to witness stole his appetite on many occasions. But in spite of the fact that Winky had fed him well for many years now, his profile had barely changed. No middle age spread had expanded his girth, thank Merlin, and he was especially pleased that he had not lost his hair as his father had by this age. His hairline had receded only slightly, and there were hints of salt scattered evenly throughout his shoulder length silky black mane. Winky had managed to add enough meat to his bones so he no longer looked starved, but his metabolism was such that he automatically burned off the excess calories with little effort. The greenhouse he had added to his backyard had been a great source of pleasure and rare potion ingredients over the years, and he got enough exercise working in it to keep trim.

So it was with a groggy mind and a short temper that he made his way down to the kitchen for coffee and the usual breakfast. But what he found on the front page ripped away his appetite.

SNAPE SPOTTED IN DIAGON ALLEY!

By Rita Skeeter

Yesterday afternoon it was reported that none other than Severus Snape, convicted felon and former Voldemort Spy, was spotted at several locations in Diagon Alley, putting to rest the recent rumors of his demise. After years of living underground, witnesses stated that they had seen him lurking about in several locations up and down the street.

"I think he came in here," admitted Eva Millinter, sales girl at Madam Malkin's cosmetic counter. "I think he bewitched me when he came in or I would have called for help or something. He bewitched me, he did. I'm not sure what he bought or even if he paid for it when he left." ("Oh for the love of Merlin," Snape said with a sigh, "Now they'll throw me into Azkaban for stealing!")

"He came in here wanting to owl a package and threatened to hex me to kingdom come if I told anyone that I recognized him," Stan Shunpike, mail clerk at the Owl Post Office, informed this reporter yesterday evening. ("I did no such thing!" Snape exclaimed out loud.) "He got right in my face all mean and nasty. But I ain't afraid of the likes of him!" ("You will be," Snape growled. "You will be.")

"He still makes an impressive figure," remarked Mr. Ollivander, wand-maker "I saw him walk by my shop several times this afternoon. "It was as if he couldn't make up his mind where he wanted to go." ("Wonderful." Snape shook his head and let out a sigh. "Now everyone will believe that I suffer from dementia.")

Several others also thought they may have seen Snape, but didn't want their names revealed, either because they could not be certain, or they still feared the dark wizard and what he might do to them if they spoke up. "One thing is for sure, if Snape wants to start terrorizing our customers, he's got another thing coming! We won't stand for it," insisted one of the shop keepers who wished to remain nameless.

Some speculate that, if Snape has not resurfaced to put forth his own evil plans, he may be working for someone else with the same thing in mind. The Ministry of Magic has been alerted to the sighting, and Ronald Weasley, a spokesman for the Auror Department, informed this reporter that they were aware of his presence ("Liar!" Snape grumbled), he was being watched ("Like hell!"), and no one was ever in any danger. He also asked that if there were any further sightings of the dark wizard that they should be notified immediately.

It was a good thing that Snape's stomach was already empty because the front page headline would surely have brought it all back up again. Winky had already known not to prepare his food as soon as she saw the headline. She also knew better than to try and hide the paper from him. He always managed to find it, and her desire to protect him from the pain only made him angry with her. And as if the story itself wasn't bad enough, that embarrassingly horrid photo of him sneering at the camera in prison attire was plastered just under the headline from nineteen years earlier.

All the joy and excitement of the previous day immediately evaporated the moment Snape saw the headline. By the time he had read the entire article, his energy was totally drained. He felt like crying, yelling, cursing, breaking something... He felt like marching into the store closet and downing that nasty lethal potion he had brewed for himself all those years ago.

Then his thoughts turned to Miss Granger... and his blood began to boil. This was all her fault. She had asked for his help, and he plunged headlong into all of her problems, making them his own. With one lousy letter she had brought his heart back to life, given him a purpose, given him someone to help, to protect. He finally felt needed, wanted, and appreciated for the first time in nineteen and a half years. And all because she wrote him a letter. Damn her! Or should he damn himself for turning soft in his middle age? Oh, who was he kidding? He had always harbored a soft spot in his heart for someone... his mother, Lily, Lily's son; although when he showed up at school with James' swagger and arrogance, that soft spot hardened quite a bit. And now (and perhaps long before now) the soft spot belonged to Miss Granger.

He rose, walked the short distance to his study, and poured himself a snifter of fine cognac. He threw it back, then, with all his might, he heaved the glass into the fireplace. Then he took a deep breath to calm himself and withdrew his wand from his robe's pocket. It was his favorite glass, after all. With a flick, the snifter was restored to its former finery, then the process was started all over again. He filled, emptied and crashed the glass against the fireplace thrice more before he had finally quelled his nerves enough to climb the staircase and escape into his computer.

He had his own owl now, and Winky could be sent to make purchases for him. He need never set foot in Diagon Alley again. He need never leave his house if he didn't want to. The more he thought of becoming a complete and true hermit the more the idea appealed to him. Let them have their laugh, the fools, he thought to himself.

He clicked to open his e-mail account. He usually had a few junk mails and sometimes a notice or two from a utility, or some sales notice from a company he had purchased merchandise from in the past. And he was not disappointed. But if the paper had been a horribly unpleasant surprise, the e-mail held just the opposite. A sender's address that he didn't recognize had "Sorry" typed into the subject line. He opened it first.

Dear Professor Snape,

Hermione Granger-Weasley

Snape closed his eyes and sighed. It was faster and undeniably more convenient, but there was no parchment to smell her skin mixed with that... that... He should never have bought that for her. Merlin only knew what she might believe his intensions were. It was totally inappropriate. And after all that effort and the trouble it had caused him, she didn't even mention it.

He let out another sigh and began opening the rest of his e-mail. Junk, junk and more junk, as usual. An interesting ad for an I-Pod came up. He had been contemplating a future purchase of one, but wasn't sure if he would really use it that much. His CD player held ten CDs, and he only had to change them out once per day. He actually found choosing from his extensive collection one of the finer pleasures of life. So why eliminate such an enjoyable chore?

Just at that moment there came a tapping at the window next to his desk. It was a little screech owl! He opened the window and untied the note, then let the little fellow back out the way he came. To Snape's pleasant surprise, the peach envelope was adorned with Miss Grangers lovely scrawl, but even better, the scent of her soft skin mingling with chamomile and rose hips. He took a deep breath and smiled. Yes, this is what he wanted. This even made up for that ridiculous Prophet article. He would deal with Stan Shunpike and that disgusting Skeeter woman later. Nothing was going to ruin this. He carefully opened the envelope with a broad smile as an even stronger heavenly aroma escaped into the air.

My Dear Professor Snape,

Hermione Granger-Weasley

Snape stared at the parchment in his hand. He didn't need to read it again. It was already stored word for word in his brain and his heart. Her graceful handwriting made it seem almost a work of art to behold. And the words felt like Mozart's music to his ears as he imagined her voice saying them. All angry feelings towards her melted away as he savored the meaning in each statement. She had expressed gratitude for his kindness. When was the last time anyone had referred to Snape as kind? Secret Recipe turned out to be her favorite fragrance. That was no surprise to Snape. It suited her body chemistry perfectly. And Hugo had already shown signs of improvement. Perfect! But the most precious gift of all, she wrote, was his help... When was the last time he had helped anyone? He thought back and decided it had been over nineteen long years ago, the night he kept silent as to his true loyalties and felt Nagini's teeth sink into his neck as a reward. He had not lifted a finger to help another soul since then, unless one could consider Winky's spending money "help."

And she had signed it, "Yours Most Truly."

A wave of what could only be called "joy" lifted his heart. When was the last time he felt this way? Once again his mind sifted through the years and finally found the previous moment of joy. It was his fifth year at Hogwarts. Lily had admitted that James Potter was a useless toe rag. Yes, that was it. That was the last time. He wasn't sure if he should be elated that joy had finally come back into his life or depressed because it had been decades since he had felt it. He finally decided that there was no use in lamenting over the past. He only hoped that this Muggle-born didn't crush his heart into grains of sand like Lily had done. Well, if her past behavior was any indication, Miss Granger would not abandon him in spite of the occasional cruel remark or unwise decision. After everything he had already said and done to her, she kept coming back for more. Yes, he felt in his heart that he could count on her friendship at least. And if she could someday shed the waning Mr. Weasley...

A quick glance at her e-mail told Snape that Miss Granger had sent it hours ago, so he needn't bother to write back. He would wait for the next one, hopefully from a new, private address. He turned off the computer and headed back down stairs. He decided to spend the rest of his day working on potions. Perhaps, if his new textbooks were successful, he would next work on a new Healer's Potion Handbook. He could even include a few of the recipes from his mother's family recipe book. It was full of potions he had never seen anywhere else, and if they proved as affective as the one he made for Hugo, the book could revolutionize the Healing profession.

*****

The next day Snape rose at noon and went straight to his computer before even taking a shower. There it was, just as he had hoped, a new e-mail from MuggleBornWitch@yahoo.co.uk. He noticed that she had sent it the night before, so he concluded that she and her cousin must have stayed and worked until their task had been completed. The subject line simply said "Hello." He anxiously clicked open the letter.

Dear Professor Snape,

Hermione

He shook his head. Typing was so unnecessary. "Hit reply," he commanded the computer. The mouse obeyed, finding the spot on the screen most effectively and clicking as required. The reply screen came up and Snape began to dictate his response as he paced the room.

"Miss Granger (comma, return),

"I trust you have not forgotten that you are indeed a witch of some skill (comma) and that you can charm the keyboard to type as you speak (comma) so there is no need for you to learn such Muggle drudgery (period, return).

"I await your report on Hugo's progress (period, return).

"Sincerely (comma, return),

"S S"

After reviewing the screen for a moment, he finished with, "Hit send," and headed for the shower, leaving the computer on in hopes of a waiting reply when he was finished. It was lunch time at the Ministry, and he hoped she would send her reply with an update on Hugo in short order.

He was not disappointed. A letter with "Hugo" in the subject line had appeared in his absence. He clicked to open it.

Dear Professor Snape,

Hermione

Snape considered the e-mail carefully. He knew with some time and trial and error, Miss Granger would do a fine job with charming her keyboard. Charms had been her strongest subject in school. He was pleased to read that Hugo was responding positively to his treatment, but in spite of her high praise, he already had several ideas he wished to try that might render it more effective.

But the lunch invitation... He wasn't comfortable with that idea. For one thing, she was still married which made the idea of lunch alone with her unthinkable. And besides that, what would her parents think of him? Or would they be at work? Surely the were retired by now. Would they be joining them for the meal? If so, that would solve the issue of appropriateness. But he still wasn't comfortable with the idea.

After some serious thought, he finally dictated a reply.

*****

Hermione sat at her computer, eating the sandwich she had made for herself, as she anxiously awaited Snape's reply. The last few days had set so many things in motion she found herself being pulled in several directions at once. She had begun a quiet crusade at work, doing research into the Grindelwald and Voldemort Wars and all of the judgments and subsequent sentences that were handed down through the courts to those convicted. She was observing Hugo every possible minute and asking his teacher and Molly to also watch him closely. And she kept a notebook on his behavior and any changes they observed. She Floo'd to her parents' house every day at lunch to make it more hospitable, removing the sheet covers from the furniture and restocking the pantry and refrigerator. And, of course, the computer was the most exciting addition to her daily routine. She was still perfecting the keyboard charm, but she was very close to working out the kinks. Most people would have been exhausted from all of the hard work, but Hermione felt energized. She wasn't sure where all of this would take her, but she knew one thing, it was leading her away from her lousy husband and her miserable life.

Severus Snape. How she longed to see him again. Out of curiosity, she wondered what he would look like now... Had he gained weight? Did he go bald? Was his hair grey? Or had he retained some semblance of the long, lean, rugged yet handsome man he once had been? She looked at herself in the mirror every morning after her shower and felt pretty good about what she saw. She was about ten pounds heavier than she had been when she graduated school. After bearing two children, she didn't feel that was too bad. And besides, she felt confident that the extra weight had settled in all of the right places, turning her from a skinny girl to a voluptuous woman. Ginny had also successfully regained her figure after her third child, but many of their acquaintances from school had not been so determined to take or keep the weight off as the years went by. Padma and Pavarti were plump, to be sure, and Pansy Parkinson had become quite heavy after bearing five children! But Hermione could hardly fault her for that. Lavender Brown was still trim, but after two kids and three ex-husbands, she was on the prowl again. Hermione wasn't sure, but she had a feeling that Lavender had set her sights on Ron. One thing was for sure, Ron liked the extra attention.

So why was she so nervous at the idea of seeing Snape again? Was she afraid he would turn down her lunch invitation? Or was she more afraid he would accept it? After all these years she wondered what he thought of her. Did he pity her and her child's plight? Did he offer assistance out of some sense of obligation because she had saved his life all those years ago? Or was his interest purely scientific? He was using her son as a Guinea Pig to perfect his potion, after all. Or was there some remote chance that, after all those letters and these many years, he had actually grown to care for her?

What a ridiculous notion, Hermione thought. He lives in a Muggle neighborhood. He owns a Muggle computer. For all I know he probably married a Muggle, has six kids and he's got a belly and bald head like Slughorn's, and is as mean as ever!

Just then, a new e-mail popped up in her In Box. She immediately clicked to open it.

Dear Miss Granger,

SS

Hermione stared at the screen in amazement. Then it hit her: since her parents were Muggles, their untimely deaths had not been listed in the Prophet Obituaries. He didn't know.

It was time to try out her Keyboard charm in earnest. She quickly dictated a letter back to Snape.

*****

The moment the e-mail notice popped up on screen, Snape clicked open the letter. Its contents left him speechless and embarrassed.

Dear Professor Snape,

Hermione

After he regained his composure, Snape sent a reply.

My Dear Miss Granger,

SS

He didn't have to wait long for her reply.

Monday at noon is perfect. My parents' address is 1453 Scatterloaf Lane, Knottingly.

Hermione

Well, now he had done it. After all these years would she shatter his illusions? Would he leave after lunch, ruing the day he accepted her invitation? Would she talk his ear off and ask him a million nosy and intimate questions that he had no desire to answer? Would she still be the ridiculous school girl that he loved to hate?

Merlin's monocle, what have I done?

*****

Hermione was so excited she could hardly contain herself. Severus Snape was coming here in just a few days! Looking back, she realized that she had never once been alone with the man. Not in his class room, not in the hospital, not even in his office. The only time she suffered one of his detentions, both Harry and Ron had been with her. But even then she could sense something so deep lying beneath his austere surface. Her woman's intuition could feel the presence of so much more than he ever let show. And even though he had hurt her so many times with his words or just a venomous glance, her spirit felt a kinship to him.

Was it the fact that Snape was the only person she knew whose intellect surpassed her own? Or was it because of the information about his past that Harry had shared the night of the final battle before they knew he was still alive? No, she decided that it was something more, something she couldn't put into words. For reasons that she didn't even understand, her spirit told her to reach out to this man, and that if she invested even a little bit more time in him, he would give back more than her wildest dreams had ever dared to show her.