The Perfect Hex

Chapter 7

The Perfect Hex

Hermione stood motionless, flustered and confused. Did Severus Snape just wink at me? The notion would have been unimaginable only hours before. But he had seemed so different during their brief time alone together this afternoon... and yet still very much the same. The man was an enigma.

She was brutally pulled out of her reverie by Ron's harsh voice.

"So how long have you been having lunch with that greasy git? Is there something going on that you might want to tell me, like how you are paying him for that potion?"

Hermione's open palm hit the side of Ron's face so hard that it left a perfect imprint. Harry hastily put a Shield Charm up between them just as she shouted, "HOW DARE YOU!"

"Will you two please calm down?" insisted Harry, "or I'll put you both in a Body Bind curse."

"Just don't bind us together," she said with a sneer that Snape would have been proud of.

"Deep breaths, everyone." Harry's tone hinted at urgency. "In through the nose and out through the mouth... That's it... Gooood. Now, Hermione, if you could calmly explain to Ron why Snape was here, maybe we can all go back to work."

Hermione first glanced gratefully at Harry then accusingly at Ron. "I wrote to him out of desperation about Hugo's condition. I haven't seen or heard from him in almost 20 years, so I wasn't sure if he would even write back. But he did, and he sent a week's worth of the potion with dosing instructions, and I have been giving it to Hugo. He said in his letter that he wanted to make subtle changes to the recipe and see how Hugo reacted..."

"WHAT!? He's using MY SON as a GUINEA PIG? NO WAY!"

"Calm down, Ron; she's not finished yet," Harry insisted. "When she's done, you can have a go."

"Professor Snape promised me that there was nothing in the potion that would harm him, and that the changes he made would either enhance its effectiveness or do nothing. He asked me to take copious notes on Hugo's progress and keep him informed so he would know what was working and what wasn't." She stopped to take a deep breath and assess Ron's reaction. He seemed a bit more open to the whole idea, so she relaxed her defensive posture a bit. "I invited him here to give him lunch and try to pay him for his time and trouble – with galleons!" she added hastily as Ron's face began to redden in a jealous rage again.

She tried to dispel his anger with a lighthearted comment. "Besides, I was a bit curious as to what he might look like after all these years."

Harry joined in to help with some humor, "I figured he'd look like Slughorn. Can you imagine him bald as a cue ball with one of those walrus mustaches?"

With this, all three of them started laughing. "Or a long beard and silver hair like Dumbledore?" added Ron.

Harry finally felt that it was safe to let down the Shield Charm.

"You know, if you two haven't eaten, I have plenty of soup left," Hermione offered.

"Sounds good, I'm starved," Ron replied. Then a scowl crossed his face. "This still doesn't explain why you've been coming here for lunch every day."

"I come for the computer," she said matter-of-factly. "Professor Snape lives in a Muggle neighborhood, and he has one. We both figured that e-mail would be a more efficient way to communicate. We can write back and forth instantly, almost like carrying on a conversation. So he can ask me about Hugo's symptoms and give me advice much faster than with owl post."

"These Muggles are amazing," admitted Ron. "No wonder Dad is so fascinated with them and all their gadgets."

Ron's ruffled feathers were summarily smoothed over as they continued to talk about Hugo's health improvements over soup, rolls and salad. Then the conversation turned to the whole issue of Ron's birthday party and the things that were said. He tried to convince her that he understood her feelings about wanting a career (advice straight out of that damn book!), but with his mother a convenient and willing babysitter, he just didn't understand why they couldn't at least try to have just one more child.

Hermione flat-out refused, reminding Ron that he had barely lifted a finger to help her with the first two children, and without a house-elf at home, it was just simply too much to expect for her to work all day and come home to do all the cleaning, the cooking, help Hugo with his homework, and take care of a baby too.

Just as the conversation was about to escalate into a shouting match again, Harry suggested that he and Ron get back to the office, leaving Hermione to clean up after lunch. Usually Harry would have been the first one to pitch in and help, but this time he knew from her pleading glances that he could best assist her by getting Ron out of her face. And he was absolutely right.

Finally, Hermione was alone. She heaved a heavy sigh and levitated the lot of dirty dishes to the kitchen sink where she used magic to set the water and dish rag in motion. There were no leftovers because the boys had eaten everything. As she kept her eye on the sink, she retrieved a pint of rum raisin ice cream from the freezer and began to eat it right out of the container. This was supposed to have been dessert for her and Professor Snape, but...

Professor Snape... Merlin knows what he would think of her after witnessing such a fiasco. But now that the cat was out of the bag, would that change their relationship? Would he sense how desperately she needed a friend with a more objective viewpoint? He seemed to have enjoyed his time with her today. She certainly hoped that he had. Well, at least until they had been so rudely interrupted.

Her thoughts turned to that speech he had given her about how she had always been kind to him, and that her blood was running through his veins. He had seemed very sincere when he said it. Then her mind flashed back to that day in St. Mungo's when his angry eyes blinked for the first time in six days, and he silently told her to "shut up." He had seemed equally sincere then. A wave of guilt washed over her. Had she been that irritating to him then? Had she changed so much over the years that he could actually enjoy her company now? Or had he changed? Perhaps it was a bit of both.

But more curious than anything else was the fact that he had winked at her. Until that moment, she wasn't sure that Severus Snape would be capable of such a thing. What should she make of it? Was he flirting? Was he trying to reassure her that they would see each other again soon? Was he just trying to let her know that he had not taken offense from the incident? She could only guess.

One thing she knew for certain, she had enjoyed his company immensely and hoped with all her heart that he would become a permanent fixture in her life. She desperately needed the intellectual interaction, and he offered a level of sophistication that Ron obviously lacked. Ron was amusing to a ten-year-old, but anyone much older tended to tire of him quickly. They had been married for over thirteen years. She was beyond tired of him, and Snape only reminded her of what she had given up to be with him. Yes, the idea of spending the rest of her life with Ron was fast becoming less and less palatable. She had resolved to divorce him after Hugo entered Hogwarts, but with that event almost a year and a half away, she wasn't sure she could bear to wait that long.

*****

Severus Snape climbed the river bank and made his way back to Spinner's End. Having conducted himself in a civilized manner, he had nothing to be ashamed of. He could have hexed Weasley "to kingdom come," as Stan Shunpike had so eloquently put it, but he managed to hold his temper. He could easily see why Weasley and Miss Granger were having problems. When an intelligent, talented witch marries a moron, there are bound to be problems. He simply couldn't understand how she had ever made such a mistake in the first place.

He wondered how she had handled the situation after he left. He was glad that Potter was there to keep the Witless Wonder under control. He hoped, for Hugo's sake, that Weasley would still allow her to administer the potion. But Snape assumed that even a dunderhead like Weasley could see how much it was helping the boy.

He wondered if either of them had figured out that their rocky relationship was the actual cause of Hugo's symptoms. Now that the cat was out of the bag, perhaps he could discuss the problem outright with Miss Granger. After all, the potion treated the symptoms but didn't cure the disease. Only a healthy marriage or an amicable break up could cure it. Unfortunately, most marriages didn't end pleasantly, and if Weasley's performance this afternoon was any indication, this one would go down in flames.

Miss Granger... Although she had been so nervous at first, when she finally relaxed she became grace and beauty personified. She had grown from an insufferable, blabbering, know-it-all into an enjoyable companion. He had long known of her high intelligence and talent, but her grace under pressure was also revealed this afternoon upon the arrival of her unwelcome guests.

He found it most amusing that she and Potter were plotting revenge against the Skeeter woman on his behalf. When was the last time anyone had done anything on his behalf besides Winky? Of course, the answer was almost twenty years ago, and the perpetrators had been, once again, the same two people.

After the war and his short stint in Azkaban, Snape had found himself friendless. Lucius Malfoy had managed to buy his way out of any jail time, even though he had cast Unforgivable curses left and right throughout the entire war. And since Snape was now a convicted felon, and Lucius' place in high society was precarious at best, he wouldn't even accept owl post from Snape. All of the other former Death Eaters were either in jail or didn't trust him, which suited Snape just fine since he detested and distrusted the lot of them anyway. And all of the people who had fought for the side of good were either afraid of him or didn't quite swallow Potter's testimony at his trial. This also didn't break Snape's heart since most of them turned out to be sniveling cowards, fools, or pompous arses that Snape could only bear for a few moments.

Even though Miss Granger had continued to write to him for the first five years, he hadn't considered her a friend back then because he had felt that she was writing to him out of pity or some sense of obligation. Besides, the last thing he wanted was the company of a constantly chattering young woman. It would have been equivalent to rubbing salt into an open wound. So, save Winky, he was left without a friend in the world, although he never lost a minute of sleep over it.

But now he felt quite differently about Miss Granger. She had matured considerably since he had last seen her. Although still lacking in self-confidence just a bit, she had learned the value of remaining silent, she had shown a sense of humor, and her eyes held deep emotions and beauty. Her hands felt warm to the touch, and that look on her face as he had winked was priceless. He wasn't even sure why he did it. Perhaps he just wanted her to know that even though he was leaving, he wasn't abandoning her.

And oh, how he relished the scent of her skin dabbed with Secret Recipe.

Snape wasn't sure how, but he knew that their futures would now be forever intertwined. And he looked forward to the moment when he would see her again.

When he entered the front door, he immediately called Winky.

"Yes, Master Severus, how did the luncheon go?"

"Very entertaining, Winky. I'll tell you about it later. But right now, I wish to speak with you about my breakfast."

"Master's breakfast? But Winky thought that Master just had lunch with Miss Granger."

"I'm speaking of tomorrow's breakfast, Winky. I would prefer, from now on, that you only brown my toast, and that the bacon is cooked to a crispy consistency but not charred almost to blackness." Why shorten what might possibly develop into an interesting, if not enjoyable, life?

*****

With a deep sense of apprehension, Hermione picked up Hugo and his ever-present stuffed lizard at her mother-in-law's house that afternoon and Floo'd home to start dinner for Ron. Some emergency had come up, or so he had said in his Patronus message, and he had to work late. Quite often she would find out later that he had stopped off at a pub for a pint or two (or three or four) on the way home, and work had nothing to do with it. This also made him much more difficult to reason with by the time he arrived, not to mention the fact that she would become angry the minute she smelled mead on his breath and realized she had been lied to. Tonight was no exception. She had half-way expected him to do this to her after the incident at lunch. So she fed Hugo and gave him his potion with his meal so she could send him to bed shortly after Ron arrived. Hugo didn't need to see the fireworks between them.

Just as she had suspected, Ron arrived barely able to stand on his own two feet. He gave Hugo a sloppy kiss goodnight, and the boy glanced forlornly at his mother as he ascended the staircase. She knew how perceptive Hugo was. He knew what was coming as surely as she did. Then a thought suddenly occurred to her. Was their rocky marriage causing his sickness? Was the stress in the house affecting him to the point that it caused his physical pain? Could he be that emotionally sensitive and empathetic?

As Ron sat at the table waiting to be served, Hermione's mind began to race. Hadn't Harry told her that, from the memories he had viewed, Snape's parents had also fought all the time? Is that why Snape knew exactly what to give Hugo? Because his own mother had brewed it for him? He said he had never actually brewed this particular potion before, but his confidence in its effectiveness proved that he was familiar with it just the same. It was the most logical conclusion she could come up with. Snape knew what to do because he had lived through the same thing himself.

Would Hugo grow up to be a cruel, angry adult who put up emotional walls so high that it would take a Hippogriff to get over them? And if so, would it be the result of his parents' failed marriage or the after-effects of the potion? She could not be sure of the answer. She doubted that he would have an answer, even if she had the nerve to ask Snape that very question. He would probably never speak to her again if she asked, so she put the possibility out of her mind. But one thing was certain, the only explanation for Hugo's health problems was the stress caused by his parents' failing marriage. For the sake of her son, she had to make peace with Ron, at least until Hugo went off to Hogwarts. She would continue to administer his potion just in case of the occasional flair up. But, if only for Hugo's sake, she would suck it up and put up with Ron and his family.

But she would absolutely, positively, not have any more children.

There was only one advantage to Ron coming home drunk. He would go upstairs to bed and pass out without groping and grabbing at her in the hopes of a sexual encounter. She knew that to keep him happy she would have to succumb at least once in a while, and the thought didn't please her. But she resolved that it was for Hugo's sake, and she could keep Muggle birth-control pills hidden somewhere to prevent pregnancy. If Ron found them by accident, he wouldn't even know what they were.

The following morning, Hermione had Hugo packed and ready for Muggle school and was about to go out the door to deliver him when Ron staggered sleepily downstairs.

"Why didn't you wake me? I'll be late for work now. Harry'll kill me."

You should have thought about that before you went out last night and tied one on, Hermione thought silently. But she smiled at him sweetly and said, "I know you had a long hard night working late. Surely Harry won't mind you sleeping in. You looked exhausted when you got home. Tell him it was all my fault, and if he doesn't believe you, I'll tell him myself. I've invited him for lunch at Mum and Dad's house."

Ron looked puzzled. Not only was she being non-combative, she was actually being nice for once! "Lunching alone to gossip about me, I suppose?"

"No, actually, we're doing a bit of research on the perfect hex for a box of chocolates to send to Rita Skeeter."

Ron snorted and began to laugh. "Over that article about Snape?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," she said with just a touch of mischief in her voice. "Would you like to help us?"

"Will Snape be there?"

"No. He wanted nothing to do with it. He said he was in enough trouble already." She tried to stifle a giggle as she remembered Snape's reaction to her and Harry's plan.

"No," said Ron thoughtfully, "you two have your fun. I've got better things to do on my lunch break."

"Have it your way, then." She leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Breakfast is on the table, but you might need to use a Warming Charm on it. We've got to go or Hugo will be late for school."

*****

Hermione left for lunch only fifteen minutes early today. She got to her parents' house in time to make a couple of sandwiches and dump some chips from a bag into a bowl. About that time Harry appeared in her fireplace with a crash. He brushed himself off and siphoned off the rest of the ashes with his wand, then joined her in the kitchen with a couple of dark spell books from work in his hand and a huge grin on his face.

"Oh, you didn't have to go to any trouble for me," he said as he jumped in and helped to set the table. "We'll be in here, right? Not the dining room?"

"Sorry," Hermione admitted with a coy smile. "I don't need to impress you like I did him yesterday."

"He looked good, didn't he?"

Hermione sighed dreamily as she pictured him coming into view as the Disillusionment Charm's effects dripped off of his body. "Yeah," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "He looked better than ever."

Harry gave her a puzzled look. Even though he now had deep and abiding respect for the man, how any woman could imagine Snape as sexy was beyond his comprehension.

"Oh, that reminds me, I need to send him an instant message on the computer to see if it works." She walked briskly into the family room and turned on the computer. Due to its age, it took a while for the screen to come up, so she went back to the kitchen to retrieve a store-bought dip from the fridge.

"Here," he pushed one of the heavy books at her as he opened up the other. They both sat and began eating unceremoniously. "I was looking over some of these spells last night after dinner. I found this one... It looks promising."

Hermione glanced over the hex as she chewed a mouthful of her tuna salad sandwich. "Not vile enough," she finally insisted. "I want the woman to be miserable!"

Harry laughed as he turned to the next marked page. "How about this? Boils and a rash."

"Yes, but it says here that they only show up on her thighs. She could still go out in public with this affliction. I want her to hide from the world so she will be forced to contemplate her fate and what may have precipitated it."

"Yeah, I guess the whole exercise is pointless if she doesn't learn her lesson."

Hermione perused the book Harry had pushed to her side of the table. She found the section on boils and rashes and began to read in earnest. Finally, as she took the last bite of her sandwich, she sat back, nodding her head and pointing to one of the hexes in the book. "This is it. This is perfect!"

She pushed the book at Harry. As he read it, a smirk erupted.

"This is perfect. Her face and her arm pits." He started laughing but stopped abruptly as he continued down the page. "O-oh. Did ya see this? Says here we'd need something with her DNA in it, so it would work only on her and no one else who might touch the box."

"Let me handle that," Hermione said with an evil glint in her eyes.

"Remember, she wears a wig, so trying for a lock of her hair is out."

"I know."

"And I truly doubt if those claws that she calls fingernails are really hers either. She claims that she uses a Growing Charm on them to get them that long, but I really--"

"Don't worry, Harry. I was thinking more along the line of a skin and blood sample."

"What?" Harry glared suspiciously at her. "Dare I ask how you plan to pull that off?"

"Easy, Crookshanks will help me. He is my attack cat, after all."

"That damn cat is twenty-five years old, if not older. And he hasn't aged a day since you got him. I'd swear he's an animagus."

"No, Harry, I told you that I used the same charm that Remus and Sirius used on Wormtail that night in the Shrieking Shack, and he didn't transform. But you're right that he is definitely not a normal everyday cat. That's why I know I can count on him to help me."

Hermione proceeded to copy down the hex on a piece of parchment which she folded up and put in her purse. Then she and Harry cleaned up after themselves as they discussed where she might hide with Crookshanks to get Rita one night. They had both noticed that after regular business hours she frequented one of the high society clubs in Diagon Alley, no doubt to keep up on the local gossip in hope it would lead to a story. Perhaps, if Harry would let her use his Invisibility Cloak, she and the cat could hide outside the door and wait. The only other problem to surmount was the fact that, in her middle age, Skeeter had taken to wearing slacks instead of skirts, and Hermione didn't want to take the chance of Crookshanks' claws getting snagged in the fabric. Now and then she still appeared donning something that revealed her legs, but usually only during the warmer months. It was still early March. Hermione and Harry resigned themselves to the fact that their plan would be delayed a while.

"You remember Lisa Turpin?" Hermione inquired. "Same year as us but in Ravenclaw?"

"Vaguely. Didn't she marry Marcus Belby?"

"You mean that skinny nervous kid who now works as an Unspeakable?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"I only mention Lisa because she covers the Ministry for the Prophet. We got to know each other again when I put forth all those reforms for the house-elves. I still keep in touch with her now and then. Perhaps I can enlist her help to notify me on the days Rita wears a skirt.

After Harry finished helping Hermione clean up the lunch dishes, he Floo'd back to the office to give her time on her computer. She sat down and opened her e-mail window. An instant message sat there waiting.

HalfBloodPrince: You're late!

She positioned her curser in the box and began to dictate her apologies and explanation.

MuggleBornWitch: So sorry. Harry and I were researching which really nasty hex we wanted to use on Rita Skeeter. We found a really good one, but it needs a DNA sample. I'll take care of that later.

She clicked the send button then figured she had better also apologize for the dreadful events of the previous day. She discovered that if he didn't respond right away, she could dictate more and send it.

MuggleBornWitch: About yesterday... Please accept my deepest apologies for the way my husband acted. He was insulting and cruel and I am truly ashamed of his behavior. Please don't let his foolishness deter you from spending time with me in the future. I greatly enjoyed your company yesterday afternoon. You have more grace and poise that he ever will.

She didn't have long to wait for his reply.

HalfBloodPrince: No need to apologize for something that was beyond your control. No offense taken. If I had a beautiful wife and she was meeting in secret with another man, I would have probably reacted in a similar, although less crass, manner.

Hermione gasped! He thinks I'm beautiful? Before she could send a reply, another line appeared.

HalfBloodPrince: How is Hugo reacting to the new potion?

HalfBloodPrince: Tomorrow then.