Soup for Two

Chapter 6

Soup for Two

Sunday seemed to crawl by at a snail's pace, even with Ginny's company. She had Floo'd over with Lily in the afternoon to give Hugo someone to play with besides that stuffed lizard that he insisted on taking everywhere. Hermione could only assume that Harry had gone to placate Ron. Hermione was glad for the company, but she would have been happier to sit at the computer and send e-mails back and forth to Snape. Ginny's freckled face and red hair simply reminded her of the difficult situation she had put herself in.

Ginny spent most of the afternoon apologizing for the things that her parents had said and tried to blame their behavior on the alcohol, but Hermione wasn't convinced. She promised Ginny that she wouldn't make any rash decisions, however, as they departed late that afternoon.

Monday morning at work was agonizing. Hermione left at 11:00, claiming a Healer's check-up for Hugo and Floo'd to her parents' house to get ready for her very special guest. She knew Snape would arrive at 12:00 noon on the dot, if not just a touch earlier, and she was determined to be ready.

She prepared a fresh green salad and got some soup going on the stove. She had two knives chopping at once and really had to concentrate to be sure that the salad ingredients didn't end up in the soup pot! Once the salad was done and the soup had begun to simmer, she popped the rolls into the oven and checked the time. They would take twenty minutes to bake, but he wouldn't be there for another thirty. So she set the table in the dining room and walked around the house tidying up. It had not taken long yesterday for the two nine-year-olds to wreck the place.

At 11:40 she turned on the oven and stirred the soup. At 11:55 she put a pot of water on to boil for some tea and stirred the soup again.

At 12:00 noon, on the dot, the doorbell rang. The noise took Hermione completely by surprise because she had expected Snape to Floo in or Apparate, certainly not ring the doorbell. But when she peaked out the living room window, she couldn't see anyone. She became even more puzzled, and a bit apprehensive, as she cautiously opened the door. Her unobstructed view of the street made her wonder if Ron wasn't trying to play a trick on her. But, as she scoured the landscape with her eyes, she still saw no one. She let out a sigh and glanced at her watch: 12:02. He should have been there by now.

"Well, aren't you going to ask me in?"

Hermione almost jumped out of her skin since the voice had come from only two feet away. She stared, wide-eyed, at its source, but all that met her eyes was the camellia shrub next to the sidewalk. But that voice was unmistakable. That silky, smooth, deep voice. Her heart began to thump loudly in her chest. She immediately became dreadfully nervous. She came to the quick conclusion that he had Disillusioned himself and tried desperately to regain her composure so as not to make a shambles of the afternoon before it even started.

She opened the door wide and stood off to the side, staring into the space she thought he occupied. With a sweep of her arm, she smiled at nothing in particular and said, "After you." She sensed his presence as he brushed past her, and she quietly closed the door.

Slowly, as if the spell's effect was trickling off of him like water, Snape came into view. Hermione was pleased beyond measure to see his long black hair had not disappeared, but had grown even longer. It didn't seem nearly as greasy and now had a smattering of gray throughout. His long nose had always suited his face, as far as she was concerned, but he no longer looked gaunt. The deep black pools that were his eyes appeared to be well rested instead of sunken, and they were drilling into her soul at this very moment. Just the hint of a smirk danced across his lips as the spell slowly dripped off and revealed the rest of his fine physique. He had filled out a bit, but Hermione was ecstatic to see that he was still slim and trim. If anything, his looks had improved with age.

Snape drank in the sight of Hermione like a hopeless derelict lost in the desert. Her figure had filled out in all the right places without adding unnecessary weight, in his estimation. Her long, bushy mane had been tamed into a French braid with a few stray locks to frame her lovely face. Her warm brown eyes filled his heart with pure joy as they glittered and sparkled at him. Best of all, he didn't need Legilimency to know that she was genuinely happy to see him.

As she offered her hand to shake, he took it in his and, with a slight bow, brought it up to meet his lips, never taking his eyes from her face. Her obvious delight amused him. He took a deep breath as he bestowed a kiss on the upper digits of her fingers. Yes, it was there... Secret Recipe. He hadn't been sure outside because a breeze prevented him from making an accurate assessment. But now it was unmistakable. He could tell that she not only had dabbed it on her wrists but on her neck as well. An image flashed through his mind of bestowing a gentle kiss where her neck met her shoulder just to get a whiff. It would smell slightly different from her wrist. The thought made his heart race, but he immediately willed himself to calm. Not today.

"Professor Snape," Hermione said warmly, "so good of you to come."

"Miss Granger." He tilted his head with respect. "So good of you to invite me."

"Please come in, sit down." She led him to an ornate brocade couch in the sitting room. "Let me take your traveling cloak. Can I get you some tea? I have hot water on the stove. I think I hear it whistling at me."

"Tea would be lovely." He handed her the heavy cloak and sat in the proffered seat.

Hermione hastily hung his cloak on a hook beside the front door and retreated to the kitchen. She returned shortly with a tray laden with two saucer-ed cups, the pot filled with hot water, and an assortment of tea bags with napkins and little cakes on the side. She placed the tray in front of him on a small coffee table and sat in the chair to his left.

"I wasn't sure what you might like, so I bought an assortment.

"Earl Grey is always my first choice," he admitted as he raised an eyebrow at the tea bags. Winky had indeed spoiled him with the traditional method of preparing loose tea in the pot. This method seemed so... American. But he understood that Miss Granger's situation necessitated cutting back on certain luxuries, so he politely bit back the many snide remarks that began to dance in his head.

"Help yourself then," she said as she pushed the bowl containing a variety of tea bags towards him on the tray.

"Nice perfume," he offered as they each poured the hot water over their chosen tea bags.

"Yes, the gentleman who gave it to me obviously has excellent taste," she replied as a slight touch of pink decorated her cheeks. His eyes glittered like polished onyx in response to her comment. Did I just flirt with Severus Snape? Hermione asked herself.

They sipped their tea in silence for a moment, but then Hermione gasped suddenly and stood up. "I forgot the milk and sugar." She gave him a worried look as if her slight had offended him.

Snape sipped his tea calmly and glanced up at her. "Relax, Miss Granger. I take mine black." He watched her closely as she settled herself back into her chair. Do I still make her that nervous? After all of these years?

"I hope you like chicken soup," she said with a bit of apprehension. "I also have rolls and a salad. Nothing fancy, I'm afraid. I came from work and didn't have a lot of time to prepare anything elaborate."

"It sounds delightful," he reassured her as he continued to sip his tea.

The room went silent again, but Hermione suddenly jumped up out of her seat, startling Snape to the point that he almost spilled his tea. "I forgot to put some music on. What kind do you like?"

He would never get through the meal if she continued on like this. He had to calm her down, but he wasn't quite sure how to put her mind at ease. Then an idea came to him. "Perhaps, if you show me your collection, I could pick something appropriate while you serve our meal," he suggested as he stood with teacup in hand.

"That's a great idea." She smiled broadly at him and led him to the family room and the Muggle stereo. The setup was similar to the one he had at home, but there was very little classical or baroque music to choose from. He finally found a CD of Bach's greatest hits by the London Symphony Orchestra and placed it in the player then managed to turn it on without assistance. He then adjusted the volume to an unobtrusive level and surveyed the rest of the room.

Sitting on a nearby desk was her outdated computer. It was turned on, and the pink and blue words "Rose" and "Hugo" bounced around on the black screen. With the sounds of a Bach concerto signaling Snape's success, Hermione popped in from the kitchen.

"This thing is a dinosaur," Snape informed her. "How do you tolerate it? It must be slower than a snail who's been given a Blood Thickening Potion.

Hermione laughed nervously. "My cousin said that I really should invest in a new one, but the only thing I use it for is to e-mail you."

"Well, I suppose, if it does the job, that's all that matters."

"Do you, by chance, have a Muggle telephone?" she asked hopefully. "They really are quite an efficient way to communicate over distances."

"My parents had one while I was growing up," he admitted. "But my neighbors complain about receiving unsolicited sales calls at all hours of the day, and I simply refuse to subject myself to such intrusions. Besides, I have no desire to converse with Muggles." Snape jiggled the mouse absent-mindedly to bring the screen back into view.

"I just thought it would be a good way for us to carry on a conversation."

"Not with this wizard." He shook his head as he gestured for her to sit in the desk chair. "But I can show you the next best thing."

She sat obediently and brought up her e-mail screen.

"Click here," he instructed as he put one hand on the back of her chair, and pointed at the "Buddy List" icon with the other. She opened it, but there were no names listed. "I believe that if you type my screen name in here, and I have yours on mine, we can do what is referred to as 'instant messaging.'"

"Fascinating. When you get home maybe we can try it."

"If I am on-line it will show you here." He leaned over again to point at a spot on the screen. "Then you click this button, dictate what you want to say, and hit 'send.'" He rested his pointing hand on the desk which positioned his face just above and to the right of hers. He took a deep breath and held it for a moment, relishing the perfectly blended aroma of her skin and perfume.

"Well, it won't be as enjoyable as hearing your voice, but it will be faster than regular e-mail."

So, she enjoyed the sound of his voice. What a pleasant surprise. Sirius Black had once told Snape that he sounded as if he were speaking from the far end of a sewer pipe! Snape was especially thankful that Miss Granger didn't share that opinion.

"Perhaps we can try it at lunchtime tomorrow."

"Harry will be having lunch with me tomorrow, so I probably won't have much time, but we can at least see if it works."

"Quite the social butterfly, aren't you?"

Hermione smirked as she stood up to continue her work in the kitchen. "If you must know, you are my very first lunch guest. He will be the second."

"Putting Snape before Potter?" He sneered as he followed her into the kitchen. "What is the world coming to?"

"It's not a social visit. We're plotting revenge on your behalf, actually."

"On my behalf?" Snape was genuinely surprised. "Don't do me any favors. I'm in enough trouble already."

She fluttered her eyelids innocently. "I'll tell you about it over the soup."

As Hermione was reaching up to retrieve the soup bowls from a high shelf in the cabinet, Snape came up very close behind her in hopes of getting another whiff of the perfume on her neck. The heat from the stove, in addition to her nervousness, had produced just the hint of a shine on her skin. She couldn't quite reach the bowls by hand, and as she turned to grab her wand which she had left lying on the kitchen table, she bumped right into Snape's chest. It was more than he could possibly have hoped for as she clumsily tangled herself in his arms so she wouldn't fall on the floor and make a complete fool of herself. He grabbed her waist with both hands and gently guided her to the side as his lungs took in the scent of her sweet skin, the hint of salt in her perspiration, and Secret Recipe all at once. He could tell that she was deeply embarrassed, but as his eyes bore into hers, he tried to convey a sense of peace to her. She was safe with him. No cruel comments would escape his lips today, at least none aimed at her.

"Allow me," he suggested graciously as he stepped up to the cabinet and easily reached the bowls. "Just the two of us, correct?"

"Yes." Hermione's voice quivered slightly. Being that close to Severus Snape had almost turned her knees to jelly. His hands felt strong around her waist as he eased her out of the way. And when his hot breath caressed her neck, she found herself wishing he would not let go. You're a married woman, Hermione. Shame on you, she thought to herself as she watched him reach for the bowls.

"I'll get the tea tray," Snape offered, "while you ladle the soup." He noticed that she seemed much calmer when he kept busy. By the time he returned to the kitchen with the tea tray, she had filled both soup bowls and was about to take them to the dining room. He reached into the refrigerator and found the salad, then he grabbed the bread basket and followed her.

"Thank you," said Hermione. "It's nice to know you're not one of those people who sits around and expects to be waited on."

"Actually," Snape admitted as he pushed her chair in for her, "it's a nice change of pace. My house-elf never lets me do anything."

"You have a house-elf?" Hermione asked in disbelief. "I thought only the older pure blood families had house-elves."

"My house-elf is free. She chose to serve me after the last of the family she was bound to met an unfortunate fate."

"Were they Death Eaters?"

"Only the son, Barty Crouch, Jr."

Hermione raced back through her memories. She had met the Crouch house-elf many years ago, the night of the Quidditch World Cup. What was her name... "Winky?"

"Yes," Snape nodded, obviously impressed. "Winky. She became my personal servant while I was Headmaster and continued after I was released from Azkaban."

Hermione's face grew grim. "I can't believe they had the audacity to put you in that horrid place, even if it was only for six months."

"Miss Granger, I..."

"It was a travesty of justice!"

"I appreciate your concern, but..."

"You're brave and noble. You went through Hell for all of us."

"It doesn't matter."

"It DOES matter," she insisted. She had worked herself into a tizzy. "They ruined your good name and your honorable reputation. You didn't deserve that. They should have awarded you the 'Order of Merlin, First Class'! Instead, you can't even get a job. It's ludicrous. They should be strung up by their toe-nails."

Snape sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. He hoped that, if he let her babble on, she would get it out of her system so the conversation could turn elsewhere. He certainly didn't need her to remind him of the twisted irony of his situation.

"It's all water under the bridge, Miss Granger," he said calmly but with a touch of impatience in his voice. "I've moved on. Perhaps you should do the same so that we might enjoy our soup before it gets cold."

Hermione sighed heavily. A hint of pink began to shade her cheeks. "I'm sorry." She fiddled with her napkin, and then picked up her soup spoon. "Please eat." She took a taste and decided that it had not cooled off too much. "Care for a roll?" She passed him the bread basket.

"Don't mind if I do," he replied as just a trace of a smile danced across his lips. "The soup is delicious," he admitted as he buttered his roll.

Hermione found herself staring at his hands as his long, slender fingers tore a little piece from the roll and spread it with butter. She watched with fascination as those strong graceful fingers carried the bread up to his supple lips, where it disappeared into his mouth. After watching him chew for just a moment, her eyes flickered up to his, and she was startled to find him staring at her.

As their eyes locked, he raised his eyebrows. "Well, aren't you going to eat?"

She quickly looked down at her soup. "Sorry," she said as she brought the spoon to her lips. She felt like crawling into one of the kitchen cabinets to hide from her embarrassment, but she didn't think she would fit.

"There's no need to keep apologizing, Miss Granger," Snape convinced her with his smooth, silky voice. "I assure you, I'm quite pleased to be here."

The meal continued for several minutes with only the Bach concerto playing in the background. By the time they were almost finished with the soup, Snape was relieved to see her finally begin to relax.

"So what is this revenge you and Potter are plotting on my behalf?" Snape asked as Hermione handed him the salad bowl.

"Harry was so appalled at that travesty of Rita Skeeter's in the Prophet that he sent her a Howler!"

Snape snorted. "I imagine that she has received so many Howlers over the years that she is immune to them"

"Well, she won't be immune to the cursed box of chocolates that we'll send anonymously," Hermione said with a sly grin.

"Cursed chocolates?" He eyed her with mock suspicion. "Should I worry about any latent effects from your Valentines Day gift, by chance?"

"Oh, no," she exclaimed adamantly. "For one thing, I'm sure you are a wizard of such skill that you would have immediately detected any spell I may have cast." She stopped for a moment and gazed into his eyes with an intensity he had never seen from her before. "Besides," she confessed, her voice almost a whisper, "I would never do that to you."

He dropped his eyes to his salad plate and hesitated a few moments before he replied. "As cruel as I was to you at Hogwarts," he said quietly, "you would have every right to try."

An awkward silence passed between them as they ate their salad. Hermione felt almost shocked that he would make such a statement. Of course he had hurt her feelings many, many times. But until now he never showed even a hint of regret for doing so. Was this the new and improved Severus Snape?

Snape realized as soon as he said it that, at the time she had been his student, he hadn't felt the least bit guilty for hurting her. And yet, she had saved his miserable life and reached out to him over the years like no one else. Through much quiet reflection, he had come to the conclusion that this woman was a treasure, a rare and precious jewel. And she didn't even realize it. Weasley obviously didn't know what he had.

Finally, after Hermione had cleaned her plate, she broke the lull. "I feel I should compensate you for providing this potion to Hugo. Would you prefer Galleons or Muggle money?"

Snape scowled at her, obviously insulted. "I did not come here to negotiate a deal, Miss Granger!"

She immediately realized the severity of her slight. "I'm sorry – I didn't mean to offend you in any way. It's just that... I know you can't get work. It must be difficult to make ends meet. At least let me reimburse you for your ingredients."

Snape began to relax his defensive posture as he realized that she was only trying to be fair to him. His look and his tone both softened as he gave her his answer. "Miss Granger, I appreciate your generosity, but you needn't worry. Almost everything I put into Hugo's potion costs me nothing, because I can grow it in my greenhouse. Secondly, having wisely invested most of my teacher's salary for over 16 years, I am not forced to live below the poverty line." Snape stopped and stared at her for a moment, unsure if it was wise to continue, but he had thought about this last statement for a very long time. For all he knew, it could be 19 more years before he saw her again, if ever, and he wanted very much to tell her this in person. "But lastly, and most importantly, no one in my entire life, including my own mother, has shown me the respect and kindness that you have. Even when I was cruel to you, I never once heard of any incident when you spoke ill of me behind my back."

Hermione blushed deeply. She couldn't believe what she was hearing... Kind words of deep praise from Severus Snape! She had hoped that he would mellow with age, but she had no idea he could be this warm and gracious.

"This doesn't even include the fact that I owe you my life, not once, but twice."

"Twice?"

"You came back for me and took me to St. Mungo's, but you also provided the blood."

Her heart began to race. Did he actually want to talk about this?

"I have your blood running through my veins. Would your parents have expected payment when they worked on your teeth?"

"Of course not. That's absurd!" she stated matter-of-factly.

"Then don't insult me with such notions again, please."

"No, sir." Hermione was almost moved to tears. She shook her head.

Just as they smiled at each other and nodded in agreement, a loud noise from the sitting room made them both jump. Someone had Floo'd into her fireplace. In a flash, Snape moved from his seat to a concealed spot just behind the door, with his wand drawn and ready.

"Hermione!" yelled Ron. "Where are you? I'm gonna get to the bottom of this!"

Just then another loud crash indicated a second arrival. "Ron, there is NOTHING going on," insisted Harry. "Now will you leave her alone? I told you, it's not what you think!"

"Hermione!" Ron bellowed. "I'm not leaving here until I get some answers!"

Hermione was mortified. What in Merlin's name would Snape think of all this? She looked at him with pleading eyes. His return gaze was inscrutable. She mouthed the words, "Please stay," knowing that he could Disapparate out at any moment. She hoped she could rid herself of her unwanted guests quickly and salvage something of their meal together.

"I'm here, Ron," she announced as she walked past Snape and into the sitting room.

Snape remained silently hidden behind the door, not sure if or when he should reveal his presence.

"Alright, where is he?"

"Ronald, will you calm down?" Hermione asked sternly.

"Well, looky there," Ron commented as his eyes wandered to the dining room table. "A cozy romantic meal for two with a good shag for dessert?"

Snape could take no more of this nonsense and stepped unceremoniously into the doorway. "There has been no shagging here," he announced with unmistakable disgust in his voice. "Nor was there going to be, Mr. Weasley. I assure you that my intensions towards your wife are strictly honorable."

Ron was dumbstruck. Snape was the last person on the planet that he had expected to see. But Harry had known, of course, and stepped forward with a welcoming hand.

"Professor Snape. It's been too long."

"Not, so it seems, for Mr. Weasley," Snape replied icily as he shook Harry's hand. Ron did not extend the same courtesy, but no one in the room seemed surprised.

"You're looking well."

"As are you, Mr. Potter."

Ron finally fell out of his stupor and turned to Hermione, incensed. "What the bloody hell is this greasy git doing here?"

"RON!" Hermione replied furiously. "Professor Snape is my guest. I will not have you speak about him like that in my house. You can apologize, or you can leave!"

"I'm not going anywhere," Ron replied belligerently.

"Then it seems I have overstayed my welcome, Miss Granger," Snape concluded.

"That's 'Mrs. Weasley' to you...you slimy bastard." Ron took a step forward and reached for his wand, a foolish move since Snape's wand was already drawn. Without so much as a blink from his former Potions professor, Ron's wand turned red hot, and he dropped it. Then he instantly grabbed one hand in the other and let out an agonizing scream.

"I would advise you to be careful, Mr. Weasley. If you recall, I was the Dark Lord's right hand man, as well as Albus Dumbledore's. I may have a few tricks up my sleeve that neither you nor the dunderheads you chase around these days are aware of."

Snape then turned his attention back to Miss Granger as he strode over towards the front door and grabbed his traveling cloak. "By the way, here is Hugo's potion," he said as he pulled it from a concealed pocket. "Same dosage. Inform me of any changes."

Hermione reached for his outstretched hand and engulfed it in both of hers as their eyes met. The look on her face was almost heartbreaking. "Please stay," she whispered.

Ron was too busy nursing his hand to react to her plea, save the suspicious look he gave her.

Snape couldn't help but notice. "I appreciate your desire to be a good hostess," he said as he withdrew his hand from hers, depositing Hugo's potion, "but my presence here is only exacerbating the current situation. Besides, I do not wish to be caught up in the middle of something that is... none of my business."

"You're damn right it's none of your business!" Ron spat viciously.

Snape turned on his heel and glared menacingly at Ron through narrowed lids. Give me a reason, he thought silently. Ron's slight cower reassured Snape that he still excelled in the art of intimidation.

He turned back to Miss Granger. "May I Disapparate from inside the house?"

"Yes. I lowered the wards when I got here."

"Good. Then I will take my leave of you all. Mr. Potter," he said with a respectful nod.

"Professor," Harry responded with a nod and a smile.

"Mr. Weasley." He merely gave Ron a dirty look. Ron remained silent, but returned his look in kind.

"Miss Granger," he smirked, knowing that to refer to her this way would only anger Ron more. Then he gave her a sincere but penetrating look. "Thank you... for everything." He then gave her a wink that the boys couldn't see, and silently spun out of sight.