Chapter 6

Characters belong to J. K. Rowling.

Chapter 6

****

The day after Valentine's Day, Hermione received a rather cryptic owl from Harry, which, in a hasty scrawl, said: 'Can you meet Ginny and me in Hogsmeade, on Saturday morning at eleven o'clock?' Hermione had sent an affirmative reply and spent the intervening days in a perpetual state of curiosity...clearly Harry had news of some sort.

Saturday morning eventually dawned, and instead of getting out her N.E.W.T. work, as was her usual practice on weekends, Hermione left the castle immediately after breakfast for Hogsmeade. She had well over an hour before meeting Harry and Ginny in the Three Broomsticks, and she would do some shopping to pass the time. She was in dire need of stationery supplies and, indeed, a relaxing browse through the bookshop.

Harry and Ginny were already seated in the pub when Hermione entered at eleven. They were grinning from to ear-to-ear and looked vaguely ridiculous to Hermione's mind. She smiled at them bemusedly as she sat down.

'Well?' Hermione burst out finally, when they continued to just sit there staring inanely at her. 'What is all this about?'

Ginny looked at Harry, who nodded briefly.

'We're getting married!' squealed Ginny, thrusting out her left hand with a girlish giggle that Hermione could only dream of producing.

'Oh my God!' gasped Hermione. 'This is fantastic! Look at that rock on your finger!'

Hermione looked at Harry with wide eyes.

'Isn't it gorgeous?' Ginny gushed.

'It cost enough,' muttered Harry in good humour.

'He proposed on Valentine's Day, Hermione; it was wonderful!'

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at Harry's discomfort as his blatant romanticism was revealed.

'I'm so pleased for you both; truly you deserve to be happy. You certainly kept this quiet, Harry; I had no idea you were planning on proposing!' She grinned.

Harry laughed. 'I wanted it to be a complete surprise.'

'When is the big day? Have you decided yet?'

'Actually, Hermione, that is something we wanted to discuss with you. You see, we don't want a long engagement, so we were thinking about this August. Harry was hoping...' Ginny trailed off and looked at her fiance.

Harry rubbed the back of his head. 'I was wondering what you thought the chances were of Snape letting us get married at Hogwarts?'

Hermione blinked. 'Oh, well, I couldn't say, Harry, I mean–'

'You must have an idea, Hermione; you have worked with him for months now.'

Harry looked at her earnestly, and Hermione could see how much hope he'd set on marrying at Hogwarts. It wasn't a surprise, really; Hogwarts had been Harry's first proper home, and he had an attachment to the place that went deeper than most.

'Look, Harry, I think it's a lovely idea having the wedding at Hogwarts, and as for Professor Snape, well, I won't dismiss any chance of him agreeing, but I will say, don't get your hopes up too much, just in case.'

Harry nodded in understanding.

'How were you planning on broaching the subject with him?'

'We thought about going to see him, but I think writing to him first might be better.'

Hermione agreed. 'Yes, do it tonight. I have a meeting with him tomorrow...maybe I can feel his reaction out a bit and perhaps talk to him about the idea. I don't know, but I will have a try.'

Both Harry and Ginny lit up like light bulbs.

'I knew we could count on you, Hermione!' Harry grinned gratefully at her.

'Oh, and keep yourself free for the sixteenth of March; we're having an engagement party at Grimmauld Place.'

After parting from Ginny and Harry, Hermione strolled leisurely back to Hogwarts. She was delighted for her two friends, yet at the same time, she couldn't help but see how it threw her own situation into sharp relief, and it dampened her spirits somewhat. It wasn't that she wanted to get married, far from it, but she had no one and was unlikely to meet anyone at Hogwarts.

Yes, she had her silly fancies about Snape, but really, she could not envisage anything coming from it. She might, deep down, wish it, but when it came to Snape feeling anything in return, Hermione just could not see it. She was young yet, though, and had plenty of time to worry about the direction her life was headed. For the present, losing herself in the library for an hour...or five...seemed the best course of action.

****

'Good morning, Severus,' said Hermione as she entered his office the following morning.

He was seated behind his desk and returned her greeting in a detached manner. Hermione sent a nervous smile towards Dumbledore, who was unabashedly watching from his portrait. As she sat, Hermione could see her Muggle Studies work sitting atop the desk, and her stomach fluttered uncomfortably.

'I have read through your report and draft syllabi multiple times–' He broke off suddenly and steepled his fingers. 'Actually, perhaps you had better bring that stool over here and sit this side of the desk so you can see my annotations.'

Hermione got up, and visions of the sarcastic red comments that had desecrated her old Potions essays swam before her eyes. She steeled herself and sat next to him.

'So, this is what it feels like to be Headmaster of Hogwarts, hmm?' said Hermione, trying to mask her nerves. She looked around the office from her new vantage point. 'I confess it is not as I imagined.'

'What did you expect?' commented Snape silkily. 'One can hardly create the same effect sitting on a stool. You need a huge, over-compensating armchair.'

Hermione laughed aloud, a little surprised by his good humour.

'We need some blank parchment...there's some about here somewhere.'

Hermione watched as he shuffled his papers about, fruitlessly, for the parchment. 'Severus,' she ventured, 'your desk, frankly, is a mess.'

He turned to her with a deep frown. 'This is organised chaos, Professor.'

'Oh, I see,' Hermione conceded wryly. 'May I?'

Snape raised his hands in beleaguered acceptance.

Hermione stood up and began collecting the discarded quills about the desk. She saw the quill pot she had bought him for Christmas sitting empty. 'There; if you try and keep all your quills together and align your inkwells in their proper holders, it looks better already.'

Hermione smiled when she noticed his grimace at her patronising tone.

'As for your papers, well, I'll let you deal with them.'

'Most kind,' he grumbled quietly. 'You find the parchment; I must retrieve a copy of the current syllabus from the filing cabinet.'

He got up and moved to the many cupboards and cabinets situated in the alcove behind the desk.

Hermione began sifting through the 'organised chaos', careful not to dislodge anything, when his voice rang out that she might try his top drawer. Hermione moved to his chair to access the drawer, and indeed, found a pile of blank parchment.

'You know, Severus, I do sort of feel drunk with power in your chair.'

'Told you.'

Suddenly, there was a brisk knock at the door, startling Hermione, and Minerva McGonagall appeared around it brandishing an envelope.

'Severus–' She stopped short. 'Hermione?'

'Hello, Minerva,' Hermione managed, flushing with embarrassment at what Minerva must be thinking, catching her sitting behind the Headmaster's desk with her hand in the drawer.

'I was, ah, looking for Severus,' commented the older woman.

To Hermione's relief, Snape quickly reappeared and slapped a thick file down onto the desk. She gingerly scooted back onto her stool and plucked at the sleeve of her robe.

'Can I help you, Minerva?'

'Yes, Severus, I just wondered if you'd heard about Potter and Miss Weasley's engagement, and Albus, too?'

Snape lowered himself into his chair with a sigh. 'Yes, I am aware of this scintillating piece of news.'

So, Harry has indeed sent the letter then, Hermione mused.

A disgruntled voice sounded to the right. 'You never mentioned it, Severus!'

'I only found out last night, Albus; look, Professor Granger and I are in the middle of something...can't you go and cluck over this inane gossip elsewhere?'

Hermione bit her lip.

Minerva frowned, but merely turned to Dumbledore and told him to meet her in the staff room. After they both left, Hermione debated with the idea of broaching the subject of the wedding further. It was now or never, she decided.

'I, ah, notice you didn't mention Harry's request to them.'

He looked at her swiftly and calculatingly. Pulling out two pieces of parchment from inside his robe, he smoothed them out onto the desk. One was an invitation, and the other was a letter. 'I should have known you would have been in on this. Roped you in to butter me up, has he?'

Hermione gave a small smile. 'I would never presume to be able to "butter you up," as you so elegantly put it, Professor Snape.'

'Be that as it may, no doubt Potter thought you could ease the way for him. What if I told you that I've already owled him back, telling him exactly where he can stick his wedding?'

Hermione sized him up for a few moments. 'You have not.'

'Haven't I?'

Hermione began to feel unsure. 'Really?'

'No,' he let out eventually before muttering fiercely, 'Am I never to be free of that blasted boy?'

Hermione was quiet for several moments. 'Severus, it would mean a lot to Harry, for reasons I think you yourself might understand.' She looked at him seriously and prepared herself for an outburst at her presumptuousness.

Snape scowled deeply. 'However did you make that deduction?' he demanded icily.

'Well,' Hermione began, unsure if she were doing the right thing. 'What you said to me... that night on the tower–'

He interrupted her by pushing back his chair and stalking over to the window. 'Don't bring that up now!' he hissed angrily.

Hermione swivelled round on her stool to face him, or at least the back of him. 'Severus, there is no point in denying it ever happened. However much you may not like it, you told me things I cannot forget, and yes, I think about them. I have wondered why it is you came back to Hogwarts, a place that in many ways embodies your regrets, when you could have gone anywhere and done anything, and I don't think it was only to surround yourself with reminders. I think Hogwarts has been your home, just as it always was Harry's.'

Hermione thought she might have finally gone too far with him, and part of her wished she hadn't said anything. After a lengthy silence, he sighed resignedly and spoke once more, albeit in a tightly controlled voice.

'You're right; Hogwarts is all I've ever really known. It holds some of my deepest regrets, and indeed, some of my happiest memories.'

Hermione wondered how many of those happy memories involved Lily Potter. She had to avert her gaze, even though he couldn't see her, when she felt an unexpected pang of resentment inside her.

Soon enough, Snape turned and moved back behind his desk. 'I'll think about it, no more, no less.'

Hermione only nodded with a small smile.

'I'm not going to that bloody party, mind,' he scoffed and blasted the offending invitation off his desk with his wand.

'Pity,' was all Hermione said as she casually began opening and arranging their work on the desk. He said nothing, but Hermione could feel his eyes on her, and she hid an amused smile.

****

'How did your meeting with Severus go?' asked Minerva later that afternoon.

Hermione glanced over the top of her book as the older woman joined her by the fire in the staff room.

'All right, thank you; he was as reserved as ever so I've no idea, really, if he was impressed with my work or not. We've agreed on a first and second year syllabus, approved changes needed to update the subject, and, well, it's entirely up to the Governors now.'

Minerva nodded. 'They're not a bad bunch. No Lucius Malfoys of course, but there may be one or two who will dig their heels in. I'd hate to think we'd put you to all this trouble, Hermione, for nothing.'

'Yes, it would be disappointing, I must admit.'

Minerva began to look at her speculatively. 'You've been here several months now, my dear. Do you think you'll stay on another year, or more?'

Hermione put down her book in contemplation. 'You know what, Minerva? I think I probably will, especially if the Governors give the go ahead on the new classes...I'd want to see them implemented into practice myself.'

'As well you should! I am glad to hear it. You are a good teacher, no doubt about it.'

Hermione blushed.

It would appear she'd made up her mind then; she would stay on at Hogwarts for some time longer. It seemed to Hermione the right thing to do. She had friends here, and most importantly, she really enjoyed teaching...a revelation in itself, she thought wryly.

****

Several days later, Hermione was strolling through the grounds, enjoying the late winter sunshine. She'd been to visit Hagrid, who'd gushed with pride as he'd waved his invitation to Harry and Ginny's engagement party. He hadn't seen Harry in a long time, and Hermione knew the half-giant missed him being around. She had no idea how Hagrid would fit inside Grimmauld Place, but as long as he kept to the kitchen or the living room, he would be fine, she supposed.

She sat down on a bench overlooking the lake and reached inside her robe for her Charms textbook.

'Hermione!'

Hermione stood up in surprise and turned. Minerva was walking briskly in her direction.

'Hermione, there you are! I've been looking for you.'

'Oh,' answered Hermione, 'is anything–'

'What on earth have you done to Severus?'

'I beg your pardon?' spluttered Hermione, somewhat alarmed. Was he OK? She hadn't been near him for several days. Suddenly, Hermione was aware of the twinkle in Minerva's eyes and the small smile about her lips.

Minerva tugged Hermione back onto the stone bench. 'Severus has just informed me, quite out of the blue, I assure you, that he's given Harry Potter permission to hold his wedding here!'

Hermione grinned in delight, but was still rather confused by Minerva's accusation.

'I am sure it is your influence, my dear.'

'My influence?' said Hermione incredulously.

'Well, I'm sure he wouldn't normally agree to such a thing.'

'Minerva, I don't think...' began Hermione, a bit flustered.

'I am sure of it, Hermione; I can see the difference in him! I've noticed his moods have been a lot better lately, and well, you seem to get on quite well together.'

Hermione didn't know what to say. Did she really have any influence over Snape? Really? Was the idea as ridiculous as it sounded? Hermione wasn't entirely sure.

'It does him well, Hermione, to have a friend of sorts, who isn't looking to use him in any way. As you know, I have tried drawing him out, but I am so much older, and well, I think I remind him too much of Albus, at times.'

Hermione smiled and patted Minerva's hand at her rather sombre expression. As she stared out over the expanse of water, Hermione could only think of that word...'friend.'

She could recall clearly those many months ago, when she'd first started teaching, how she'd envisaged forming a friendship with the melancholy Headmaster. Then, she'd developed an attraction...mere whimsy, a bit of fun, as she'd thought at the time. It would pass, and in some ways it had, except, Hermione now realised, not in the way she had hoped.

She was now afraid it had deepened into something more. Minerva thought they could be friends, and all of a sudden, Hermione wanted to blurt out and ask her if that's all she thought they could be.

She didn't, though.

Hermione walked back to the castle with Minerva, in silence, until she stopped at the main doors to speak with one of her students, while the older woman went inside.

'Miss Armitage, will you come to my office after dinner? I need to discuss something with you.'

The poor girl looked terrified, but Hermione only wanted to ask if she could submit some of her work for the Governors to look at.

Hermione opened the main doors and immediately picked out the tall form of the Headmaster as he conversed with a group of students. Hermione felt her heart thud painfully in her chest. She wanted to thank him for what he'd done for Harry, but she also wanted to escape unnoticed, up the staircase, and disappear into her rooms. That talk with Minerva had left her feeling a bit off-balance.

She was halfway up the marble staircase when he spotted her and called her.

'Professor Granger, might I speak with you a moment?'

Hermione closed her eyes briefly and, with a deep breath, turned to descend back down the stairs.

'Certainly, Headmaster.'

He led her back outside, out of the earshot of any students.

'I thought you might like to know that I've–'

'Agreed to have the wedding here, I know; Minerva is practically incandescent about it,' Hermione interrupted, managing a small chuckle. 'Thank you, Severus.'

He looked uncomfortable. 'Well, it's not any–'

'You will accept these thanks gracefully, for once, Severus.'

He shut his mouth with an impatient huff. 'You look awfully pale, Hermione. Are you all right?'

Hermione tried to brighten her expression. 'I'm fine, a bit tired perhaps. Say,' she began, trying to change the subject, 'will you really not be coming to the engagement party?'

Time to see if she really did have any influence over him.

Snape shook his head. 'No, indeed not. Besides, I cannot leave the castle unattended.'

Hermione shrugged dismissively. 'Of course you can; there are more than enough teachers capable of looking after the school for a few hours. If there is a problem, you will only be an Apparition away.'

'It will hardly matter if I am not there,' he retorted.

'Well, Harry wants you there; otherwise why would he invite you?'

'He could hardly ask me for the use of Hogwarts, and then not invite me to the party.'

Hermione sighed and decided to go the whole hog. 'All right then, well, I would like to see you there. But look, I am not going to say one more word about it, except that Minerva and I will be meeting in the Entrance Hall at six, three weeks Saturday, to go to Grimmauld Place. I'll leave it to you to decide if you want to join us or not.'

He looked at her impassively, but his eyes were narrowed.

Hermione gave him an expectant look before entering the castle once more, feeling a little embarrassed at her own audacity.

****

The day of the engagement party soon rolled around, and Saturday evening found Hermione surveying herself critically in the mirror. She'd never been really unhappy with her appearance, but there were times when she wished she had more obvious beauty, like perhaps Ginny's long and sleek, red hair. However, her own hair was behaving itself adequately tonight. She'd French plaited it the night before, and when she'd undone them earlier on, her hair had hung in relatively frizz-free curls. Some hairspray would hopefully preserve the look, but Hermione wasn't holding her breath.

She was wearing a new set of dress robes, purchased from Madam Malkin's, courtesy of the Christmas gift from her parents. They were a deep burgundy colour, and for once, Hermione was pleased with the fit. A few touches of makeup, a few sprays of perfume, and she was pretty much ready to go.

She wondered, briefly, if all this primping would be for naught if he didn't show up. Well, she would want to look nice regardless, but Hermione could not pretend that she didn't want to impress him, if indeed that were at all possible. She thought once again of Minerva's words down by the lake and considered that, perhaps, it wasn't so impossible, and maybe, Hermione decided, she should believe in herself a bit more.

As the clock approached six o'clock, Hermione arrived in the Entrance Hall. Minerva stood waiting by the hourglasses, but otherwise, the hall was empty. Her stomach dropped in disappointment...she should have known he would not come.

'Good evening, Minerva.'

'Hermione! Don't you look lovely, dear.'

'Thank you; ah, I take it Severus is not coming?'

'I don't think so; in any case, even if he had wanted to, he received an urgent owl from the Ministry today and, as far as I know, is still in London.'

Hermione nodded and silently followed Minerva out of the doors and towards the gates. Oh, well, that was that, then. She wouldn't let it dampen her evening too much...it would be rather selfish of her.

Mrs. Weasley opened the door at Grimmauld Place, and she ushered them through to the living room, predominantly filled with other Weasleys and Hagrid.

Ginny immediately came over and greeted them warmly.

'Harry's not even here!' moaned Ginny, pulling Hermione aside.

'What?'

'He's been at the bloody Ministry all day!'

'On a Saturday?' Hermione questioned.

'Yes,' replied Ginny, in an undertone, 'some ex-Death Eater has turned up or something.'

No doubt that's what Snape's doing at the Ministry then.

'He'll be back soon, Gin, he has plenty of time; not everyone has arrived yet.'

'Yes, you're right; help yourself to a drink, Hermione. I need to check on Mum in the kitchen.'

Hermione moved over to the table laden with drinks and poured a glass of wine, giving a wave at Hagrid as she did so. He was crammed onto the settee with a large tankard of ale in his hand.

More people had arrived, and Hermione only vaguely knew some of them by sight...Harry and Ginny's Auror friends from the Ministry. There was someone she did know well, though.

'Ron!'

'All right, Hermione?' He smiled when he saw her.

'Great, thanks; so tell me, will I get to meet Lisa tonight?'

Ron had mentioned his new girlfriend several times in his letters, and Hermione was interested in meeting her, especially after Ginny had given Hermione the impression that she didn't like her.

'She's working late, so she'll be around later.'

'Good!' said Hermione brightly as Ginny reappeared.

'Catch you later, girls, I'm going to talk to Hagrid.'

As soon as Ron was out of earshot, Ginny leaned towards her.

'Told you about his new girlfriend, has he? She's like a clone of Lavender Brown, only with a worse high-pitched giggle!'

'Ginny!' Hermione admonished. 'This is your brother's girlfriend you're talking about.'

'You just wait until she arrives! Mark my words, Hermione!'

Hermione shrugged...if Ron liked her, then that was all that really mattered.

'Oh, watch out, here comes Phlegm.'

Hermione laughed into her wine glass. Bill's wife looked as effortlessly beautiful as ever, and Hermione had to elbow Ginny, who was glaring at her with an envious frown.

Ginny sniggered. 'I'm only joking; I've got to know her quite well, and she's not that bad.'

Hermione was suddenly aware of the loud tones of Molly Weasley, and the Scottish brogue of Minerva McGonagall, drifting through the open door from the hallway. An unmistakable, deep voice joined in and Hermione froze, her glass halfway to her lips.

'You are not seeing things, Minerva...'

'Are you all right, Hermione?' asked Ginny, causing Hermione to snap back to attention.

'What? Oh, yes, uh, I think...'

Ginny was already turning to the doorway, though.

'Harry! Thank Merlin, you're finally back!'

'Sorry about that, Gin; it's all sorted now, though.'

'Was that Professor Snape I heard you come in with?' Hermione asked, unable to help herself.

'Snape is here? How on earth did you manage that?' exclaimed Ginny in a whisper.

'Yeah,' laughed Harry, 'he's in the kitchen with McGonagall. He didn't take much convincing to come along really; probably fancied a good drink after the day we had at the Ministry.'

Hermione found her hand, of its own volition, surreptitiously move to smooth her hair down. She was in two minds whether to go in the kitchen and speak to him or to leave it for a bit.

'I need a drink; I'm gasping,' muttered Harry, and he began crossing the room to the drinks, a task that took twice as long by the amount of times various people accosted him.

Hermione followed for lack of any idea as to what to do with herself. Eventually, they came to a stop by Hagrid, who began an enthusiastic monologue about his latest illegal breeding venture.

'I fancy Professor Snape has changed a bit since we were in school, don't you think? Physically, I mean,' commented Ginny quietly while Harry was still trapped in conversation with Hagrid.

Hermione's eyebrows shot up her forehead and moved to see where Ginny was looking. Snape had entered the room, drawing many a furtive glance; Minerva and Arthur followed him.

'Do you think so?' replied Hermione neutrally. 'He's certainly different, but I don't know about, ah, physically.'

'He looks... healthier, I suppose,' finished Ginny. 'Why don't you go over and say hello, Hermione? He looks a bit pained, sitting there, listening to my mother and McGonagall chattering on.'

Hermione glared at the side of Ginny's head. 'I suppose it would be... rude of me not to,' she ground out.

He appeared to be without a drink, so Hermione refilled her wine glass and poured a Firewhiskey for him.

'I see you decided to come then, Professor,' stated Hermione as she approached the armchair in which he sat.

Snape looked up at her and frowned. 'Evidently. Well, you have often accused me of masochistic tendencies, and what could be more masochistic than putting myself at the mercy of a veritable roomful of Gryffindors?'

'Not a lot,' she agreed. 'Firewhisky?'

'Thank you.' He relieved her of the tumbler, and Hermione took the liberty of perching on the arm of his chair.

'How has your day been?' asked Hermione, competing with the hubbub of noise in the room.

'Tedious,' he replied shortly, communicating clearly that he did not wish to speak of it, or indeed, anything. Hermione could tell that he was not in the best of moods. He seemed content to merely sit and observe, and that was what they both did for a time, until he spoke up once more.

'Who's the harpy Ronald Weasley is with?'

Hermione picked out Ron in the crowd and saw there was an unknown brunette standing next to him. She looked down at the man beside her with a smile.

'"Harpy"?'

Snape nodded with a grimace. 'Didn't you hear her laugh?'

'No,' chuckled Hermione. 'You'll have to excuse me; I must go and say hello. I'll speak to you later, Severus.'

'All right,' he replied grimly, and Hermione made her way over to Ron.

'Hermione! This is Lisa.'

'Lovely to meet you at last, Lisa,' offered Hermione with a smile.

Immediately, Hermione was uncomfortably aware that she was being sized up. The eyes of the other woman surreptitiously traveled over her form and then came to rest level with Hermione's own gaze.

'I have heard so much about you, Hermione,' Lisa simpered sweetly. 'Teach Muggle Studies, I hear!' She gave a little giggle that was so shrill and fake, Hermione could only stare blankly. 'We didn't study that at Beauxbatons.'

'She's part French, see,' put in Ron, with a grin.

'Oh.' Hermione nodded.

Suddenly, Ron was being pushed towards the chocolate fountain as his girlfriend squealed unintelligibly about strawberries. Hermione was left standing there in bemusement. She began looking about for Ginny, but Hermione was unable to see her anywhere and decided to check the kitchen. She was in there alone, putting sandwiches and other snacks onto large platters.

'I just met Lisa.'

Ginny turned around and they both burst into apologetic laughter.

'Poor Ron,' Hermione lamented. 'We shouldn't laugh.'

Ginny merely raised an eyebrow before turning to take sausage rolls out of the oven. 'Enjoying yourself, Hermione? I know parties are not really your scene.'

'Well, I wouldn't say that exactly,' said Hermione defensively.

'You looked to be enjoying yourself in the company of a certain former Potions master earlier.'

Hermione frowned. 'We barely spoke.'

'Precisely!' returned Ginny triumphantly. 'Yet, you were still clearly enjoying yourself.'

Hermione rolled her eyes and frowned. 'If you have something to say, Gin, just say it. I could tell you were fishing for something earlier on.'

Hermione cast a discreet Muffliato spell.

'All right,' Ginny began in a brisk tone, wiping her hands on a tea towel, 'you and Snape...spill.'

'There is nothing to spill.'

'Come on, Hermione! I saw how you practically jumped out of your skin when you heard his voice in the hall and how you smiled at him.'

'That's hardly much evidence to base your assumptions on, Gin.'

'Isn't it? You never looked at Ron in quite the same way.'

Hermione looked at her hands in defeat, realising it was pointless to prevaricate.

'All right, all right, I like him, end of story. It's not that obvious, is it?'

Ginny smiled reassuringly. 'No, of course not. Only to someone who knows you well and is female.'

Hermione laughed weakly.

'So is there really nothing to spill?'

Hermione shook her head. 'Of course not, and it is unlikely there ever will.'

'You never know.' Ginny shrugged. 'Who's he to turn his nose up at you?'

'It's not as simple as that.'

'How'd it happen anyway?'

Hermione waved her hand tiredly. 'Oh, I don't know; I'm sick of going over it in my head, really. He just... fascinates me, I suppose.'

Ginny smiled gently. 'Well, Hermione, you know what you can always do...tell him.'

Hermione blanched, and Ginny winked as she left the kitchen, followed by several levitating platters. Tell him? There was no way in hell, Hermione reasoned; no way was she going down that road.

Giving herself a mental shake, Hermione got up to rejoin the party. As she stood in the hallway, though, she wondered if a quiet five minutes by herself might do her good. The combination of noise and wine was beginning to give her a headache.

She walked down the passage and opened the door to the library. The fire was lit in the grate and bathed the room in a bright orange glow. The back of a dark head was visible on the sofa, and Hermione smiled ruefully at her luck.

'I should have known you might be in here, Severus.'

She walked around to where he was sitting, staring into the fire with his Firewhisky on the table in front of him. It was a familiar scene, only this time she didn't have to run away. 'Mind if I join you? It's got a bit too much for me in there, too.'

He shrugged. 'Do as you please, but I warn you, I am not much company.'

Hermione sat down next to him, at an appropriate distance, and set her feet upon the coffee table. 'Why not?' she ventured.

He hadn't looked this glum in a long while.

'It was a mistake coming here, to this house, and I've drunk too much...it's got me in a pathetically maudlin mood.'

'Do you... do you want to talk about it?'

He stood up suddenly and drained his glass. 'No! No, certainly not! I am in no mood for one of your little counseling sessions! I don't know why you became a teacher when you are eminently more suited to being a bloody therapist!'

Hermione was rather stunned at the sudden venom in his tone. She hadn't had that directed at her in a long time. Making a decision, she got up to leave and was nearly at the door when his low voice stilled her.

'Look, I didn't mean to shout at you in such a manner.'

Hermione hesitated.

'Severus, I am not trying to pry or anything like that; I only ever want to help.'

He looked into the fire. 'I am not used to talking about things, as you well know.'

Hermione returned quietly to her space on the sofa.

'Don't look at me like that,' he said suddenly.

'What do you mean?' asked Hermione in confusion.

He rubbed a hand wearily over his eyes. 'Like I could tell you anything and you wouldn't... pity me, or even judge me.'

Hermione didn't know what to say.

'Don't you just love irony, Hermione? Is it not one of the most damnable concepts?'

Hermione raised her eyebrows, indicating that she wasn't quite following him.

'As soon as I entered this house tonight, I realised something. The people who should be here tonight...the people who should be at Potter's wedding, his parents, his godfather, Lupin, even Dumbledore, are all gone, and yet here I am. After everything that has gone on, I should be the one left. Is that not ironic?'

'If you choose to look at it that way...'

'It is the only way, Hermione.' He looked at her straight on, and Hermione willed herself not to look away.

'You once asked me how I survived Nagini... Well, I will tell you.' He gave a bitter laugh. 'You would never guess in a million years who came to my aid.'

Hermione hardly dared to breathe, lest she disturb the abstraction he seemed to be in.

'It was a house-elf...can you believe it? A house-elf saved my life.'

Hermione's eyes widened. A house-elf?

Snape began pacing up and down.

'Violet was her name. She worked at Hogwarts, of course, and for some reason became rather attached to me when I began teaching there. Although no single house-elf is ever assigned to one person, she would take it upon herself to answer my calls and clean my rooms. She liked to help out when I was brewing potions for the Infirmary. She even came home with me some summers...Dumbledore would send her to 'look after me,' like he thought I would waste away if left alone.

'When I... when Dumbledore died, things changed. The house-elves had to obey me, of course, but they thought I was a traitor and Violet never came near me. So, you can imagine how surprised I was to wake up at my house, only a day or so after lying at the brink of death in the Shrieking Shack, to find her beside me. She'd Apparated me out of the shack and, somehow using her own magic, healed the wound on my neck and fed me the phoenix tears I had stored away. I still don't know to this day how she knew what had happened to me, and where. I never got to ask her...she was old, and the magic she'd spent Apparating and healing me were too much for her, in the end.'

His voice had remained flat, as if he were merely relating the weather, but Hermione could see the way his eyes glittered with anguish in the firelight. She wiped the tears out of her eyes, inexplicably touched by the loyalty and sacrifice of the house-elf. She thought of Dobby, who had also given his life for their cause.

Now she knew why he'd been so reticent about it before...no doubt he felt it another death on his conscience.

'Severus,' breathed Hermione sadly, standing up and moving towards him. 'You don't regret her sacrifice, do you?'

He looked at her and shook his head, causing some of his hair to fall into his eyes. 'No, not deep down...I would be doing her a disservice otherwise. That is another reason why I went back to Hogwarts. At times, all I wanted to do was lie away hidden in Spinner's End, but I owed it, not just to her, to do something useful with my life.'

'I'm glad,' said Hermione with a smile. She tentatively reached out to touch his arm for a moment. If he seemed surprised by the action, he didn't show it.

'I didn't know house-elves had any sort of healing magic,' Hermione mused, after a few moments.

'Neither did I,' replied Snape quietly. 'Which is why I've never spoken about it and have resorted to a tale of forward thinking and handy potions stored in my robe for the Ministry. I'm not sure it is in the best interest of the house-elves for such a thing to become common knowledge.'

'I think you're right. Come,' smiled Hermione, a little brighter, 'let's sit down and cheer ourselves up. It's a party after all, and we will be raining on everyone's parade.'

'Are you trying to say I've rained on yours?'

'Of course not!' She shook her head good-naturedly and motioned for him to sit down.

Hermione flopped down beside him, only this time her thigh was brushing his. Propping her feet up once more, Hermione realised she was decidedly comfy, apart from the sudden flush rising in her cheeks caused by any number of reasons...his proximity, the wine, the fire, Hermione wasn't sure.

For a while, the only sound in the room was the crackling fire until her gaze landed on the hand resting on his leg.

'I've never seen you wear jewellery before,' observed Hermione.

'That's because I don't wear jewellery normally,' he scoffed. 'However, this ring,' he brandished his little finger, 'is linked to my office so if I am needed I can be contacted through this.'

'Ah, I see. I thought, perhaps, it was a new look you were going for.'

He gave a quiet rumble of laughter. 'Should I be going for a new look?'

Hermione stilled...she'd walked blindly into that one.

'Oh, no, I don't...' she began, slightly flustered, but trailed off when the door behind them opened with a clatter. They both turned to see who it was, and Hermione looked back impassively when she saw that it was Ron and his girlfriend.

Ron, however, was staring at her in confusion while his companion clapped her hand over mouth and said, rather unapologetically, 'Oops, sorry!' She shoved Ron out of the door with another grating titter of a laugh.

'Told you she was a harpy,' muttered Snape under his breath. 'Tell me, Hermione; why is it that you are in here with me and not out there having fun with your friends?'

Hermione was rather surprised at this line of questioning, and she could tell that while his voice appeared indifferent, his left hand was plucking at the folds of his robe, belying his interest. Deciding to be brave, Hermione gently curled her hand around his forearm.

'Are we not friends, Severus?' Hermione lifted her chin to look at him and held her breath when he remained silent. Visions of him flinging her off and calling her a stupid, naïve girl passed, ridiculously, through her mind.

Finally, he nodded and looked at her. 'We are,' he said quietly and actually smiled; it was a small one, but the most genuine Hermione had ever seen off him.

'Good,' was all she could manage in reply as she tore her gaze away, afraid that she was perilously close to making a fool of herself.

Time was unfortunately getting on, and Hermione realised that people would be wondering where they were. Giving Snape's arm a regretful squeeze, Hermione stood up.

'I think it's about time we got back to the party.'

Snape also stood up. 'You're right...but I am going to go back to Hogwarts.'

'Oh, all right.' Hermione was disappointed, but she knew there wasn't much point persuading him otherwise; no doubt he wanted to be alone for a bit. 'I will see you tomorrow.'

'Until tomorrow, then,' he murmured, and Hermione was intrigued to note that he seemed unsure about something. She was about to speak when he quickly reached out to grasp her hand. Hermione's heart began to beat wildly when he lifted it and pressed a brief kiss to it.

He fixed her with one last look before he disappeared from the room completely.

Hermione wasn't sure how long she stood there clutching her hand, utterly transfixed, before throwing herself back onto the sofa with a pitiful groan.

He was going to be the death of her.

****

AN: Thanks to Astopperindeath for beta-ing!