Chapter Three

As Severus navigated the Ministry's labyrinth of hallways, he pondered that while Hermione had been mistaken about the outcome of that vexing piece of trash in the Prophet, she had been exactly on target about the Wizengamot summons. In addition to the fact that he and Hermione were innocent of any wrongdoing, the Wizengamot certainly hadn't wanted any smears on what had become their pet project. Therefore, the questions had been succinct and perfunctory, seeking only the bare minimum to determine the truth. He had then been presented with papers declaring that he had officially completed the Probational Monitoring Program.

He patted the inner pocket where the papers rested. He was once again a fully functioning member of wizarding society with all of the rights and responsibilities thereto.

Severus scowled as he thought of what little good it would do him. He paused as he came to a cross-hallway, looking both ways before proceeding to the left in the direction that he thought would carry him to Hermione's office. Although he had been invited to her office on a number of occasions, Severus had always demurred. Beyond his desire to avoid most of the wizarding populace, he knew that visiting Hermione would provide grist for the always active Ministry gossip mill. So far, other than the usual flurry of inter-office mail, he'd been lucky enough not to encounter anyone, and he hoped the trend would continue. He often thought the only two benefits of his job in the bowels of the Ministry were the little-used Floo entrance located near the Potions Department – installed due to the occasional need to Floo to St. Mungo's without delay – and the solitude. Judicious use of the former and a devout appreciation for the latter meant that even though he worked in the Ministry of Magic, Severus had been able to avoid most members of the wizarding world for the last five years, and he had little desire to stumble upon any of them today.

He checked his stride, approaching what he determined to be the last turn before Hermione's office, and a ghost of a smile tugged at his lips as the sound of her voice floated down the hall, confirming his skills of navigation.

Unfortunately, he realized, a moment too late, that hearing her voice probably indicated that she was talking to someone. Severus averted his head as a young man exited Hermione's open door, calling back that he hoped that she would call him soon. Severus was preoccupied by the frisson of jealousy that skittered down his spine and barely noticed when the young man nodded and greeted him as "Professor Snape."

Severus whipped his head around, and had anyone been watching they would have laughed at the dumbfounded expression on his face.

"Was that Neville Longbottom?" he demanded as he strode through the open door, accompanied by a memo that winged past him into a tray clearly marked 'IN.'

"Hello to you too. I'm doing fine, thank you for asking. Would you like a seat? Some tea?" Hermione asked with a wry smile, his sudden entrance catching her off guard. "I'm surprised to see you. I know how you feel about visiting me here." She waved him toward a small seating area before drawing her wand to close and ward the door for privacy.

He hesitated; perhaps he shouldn't have come. "I just wanted to tell you that you were right about the Wizengamot proceedings." He made a move toward the door, reaching for the handle just as Hermione settled herself in a wingback chair, charmingly covered in a toile pattern. "I can Floo you about it later. It's probably not a good idea for me to be here."

Hermione looked up at him, exasperated. "For Merlin's sake, Severus! Sit down! There's no reason at all that you shouldn't be here. I'd very much like to hear how it went with the Wizengamot, and, yes, that was Neville Longbottom." With another swish of her wand, Hermione Summoned a tea tray for the two of them.

Severus nodded and took the chair next to her, looking around her very Hermione-ish office. Like all rooms Hermione occupied, this one was dominated by bookshelves. There was a little space carved out on one wall for the necessary fireplace and on another for a charmed window, currently showing a rather unseasonable snow. She had a small desk in the corner, but he imagined she conducted most of her meetings in the area they were currently occupying. The two wingback chairs, a low table where the tea tray had just appeared, and a small couch had been placed in front of the fire to create an illusion of homey comfort. He was quite sure it was the perfect place for Hermione to lull unsuspecting Ministry employees into a false sense of security before she metaphorically pounced on them.

Hermione interrupted his perusal of her office to hand him a cup of tea. "So you were going to tell me that I was completely right and you were sorry for ever doubting me," she teased him affectionately, recalling their conversation of the night before when she had readily admitted to having been wrong.

Severus bared his teeth in a facsimile of a smile. "Yes, that's exactly what I was going to say! Also, I've decided to throw off the mantle of civility and will be immediately relocating to the wilds of Canada to raise Billywigs."

"Don't be silly." Another memo had slipped into her office and was bobbing around her head. Impatiently, she waved it toward the inbox while wrinkling her nose at him. "Billywigs are native to Australia and would not be at all suited to Canada's climate."

"Ah, well, I guess I shall simply have to remain here then." Severus idly stirred his tea. "Though since Billywig raising is out, I will have to begin searching for other avenues of employment. The Wizengamot presented me with my papers. I'm now officially a free man again." He set down his cup and rose, crossing to the window to study the snow. "Rather unusual weather for June."

Hermione hummed in agreement. "Magical Maintenance has been working on personalizing the charms so the view will be attuned to the occupant of the office. I guess I feel like snow today."

He looked over his shoulder at her, one eyebrow raised in question, but Hermione merely shrugged. He turned back to the window for a moment before moving on to study the books crowding her shelves. "I like your office, Hermione, it suits you. I'd like to find something that suits me as well."

Hermione shifted restlessly before abandoning her chair to join him. "Severus, I know you think it's folly, but I think – no! – I'm sure you should consider the advertisement we discussed. You are exactly what they're looking for, and I know you would be happy there."

Severus turned to her and reached out, fingers ghosting down the length of her arm, brushing against her fingertips before dropping his hand to his side. "You will never understand how much your regard means to me, but my past will define me for the rest of my life, and I cannot spend time wishing for things that will never be mine."

"What do you spend your time wishing for?" she whispered, her body shifting forward imperceptibly.

He closed his eyes and dropped his head, resting his forehead against hers for the briefest of moments. "No, Hermione." Shifting past her to the fireplace, he gripped the mantelpiece with one hand and drew in a deep breath to slow his rapid heartbeat. "Thoughts like that will lead to madness. I will not injure you that way. Speculation about us is already rampant."

Hermione turned to watch him silhouetted by the glow of the crackling fire. "I don't object to the speculation. Last night we made light of my loyalty to the Ministry, but I am loyal, Severus. Only it's not to the Ministry. It's to you."

"As I am to you, which is why I will not be party to your disgrace. I will not be responsible for ousting you from a job that you love. My position was insignificant, and I can find any number of things to replace what I had. For that matter, I can easily find the same kind of menial employment in the Muggle world and never be forced to deal with the sneers and snubs again." He gave his head a small shake. "You do not have the same luxury. Any relationship with me would most likely mean the end of your employment with the Ministry."

"Severus, the job isn't what's important to me; you are! I don't love my job!" Hermione fisted her hands in frustration. "Maybe I did at one point, but even then it was still just a job. Which is why, for awhile now, I've been looking for a chance to move in another direction. I'm no longer happy with the position the Ministry has put me in, either professionally or personally. I was actually planning to talk to you about this tonight. Recent developments have given me hope that something better suited to my interests will be available soon."

"Recent developments?" Severus prompted, turning to her with what looked like a flicker of hope in his eyes. "You haven't mentioned that you were considering leaving the Ministry."

"Yes, well," she smiled ruefully, "when I said recent, I was being quite literal. This afternoon I was returning from a planning meeting with the Deputy Minister of Finance, the Deputy Director of Gringotts, and the Deputy Minister of Muggle Relations. You've heard, of course, about the decline in the value of Muggle currency relating to the exchange rate against foreign currency?"

Smiling, he gestured for her to continue. Knowing Hermione as he did, he knew that she was warming to her subject and needed little encouragement to launch into further explanations.

"The Goblins are in an uproar over the situation, and they all – the Ministry and Gringotts and the Muggle liaison – seem to expect me to put a good face on the whole mess. When I started here, my purpose was to foster mutual respect between the Muggle and wizarding worlds. Lately though, I've become the Ministry's Spin Doctor, trying to make their position more palatable to the average witch and wizard. As I returned to my office, I was thinking about how tired I am of wading through the incomprehensible yarn-ball of Ministry politics."

"At that moment, I happened to run into Neville, who was just leaving the Registrations and Licenses office. It seems his company has recently changed focus and has begun to expand. He was securing the appropriate license for the new arm of his company."

"I didn't realize Mr. Longbottom had gone into business." Severus was surprised. If he had considered Neville Longbottom's future, owning a business would never have made the list of possible occupations. Severus rather thought he would have ended up buried in a greenhouse somewhere. "How does that affect the change in direction you mentioned?"

Hermione's eyes glittered with excitement. "Neville has never been interested in the minutiae of running the business, and with the company's recent growth, he's spending far more time in an office than he would like. He's looking for someone who can handle the day-to-day decisions so he can focus on development and production. He wants someone who works well with people and has experience in dealing with the international community. He thinks he'll eventually want to expand worldwide. I told him I'd think about it."

"Then it sounds like something that would be remarkably well-suited to you." Severus reached over and squeezed her hand. "It sounds like Mr. Longbottom has given you a great deal to think about."

"He has, but there are some things I don't need to think about." Hermione turned her hand over so that she could thread her fingers through his. "Severus, will you do me a favor?"

"If it is within my power."

"Think about the position in the advertisement, and while you're at it, consider that you are not the outcast in the wizarding world that you like to think yourself. You were pardoned. Yes, the Wizengamot made an example of you by using you as the first participant in the Probational Monitoring Program. And, yes, there are some narrow-minded fools who will never accept that you did what you had to do in the face of war. But for most people, it's not an issue any longer. You've punished yourself with a self-imposed exile for the last five years, hiding away in the Muggle world, convinced that you were no longer welcome in ours, but that's simply not true."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand to stop him.

"When was the last time you ventured into the wizarding world, Severus? And I'm not talking about work, where you bury yourself in the storage room of the Potions Guild. When was the last time you encountered the sneers and snubs that you're so afraid of?"

Severus pulled away from her and rubbed his hands over his face. "I will admit that it's been over four years since I ventured beyond the Ministry, but the experience was one I would rather not relive. And my recent perusals of the Prophet haven't given me cause to think things would be different now."

"Please tell me you aren't using the Daily Prophet as a barometer for the feelings of the wizarding world." Hermione snorted. "Besides, you, yourself, said there were several letters praising you for your chivalrous attitude towards me, though where and how they saw us, in light of our avoidance of all things wizarding, I can't imagine." Hermione placed a hand on his arm and smiled at him. "I can't promise that you won't occasionally encounter ignorant fools, but I'm positive that they make up the minority." She paused as they watched another piece of mail flutter to rest in her inbox, the volume of which had grown to resemble a small mountain.

"You deserve the chance to be happy, Severus. Are you willing to reach out and take it?"

Severus searched her eyes, stunned by the truth he saw there, that a future with her was possible. He took her hand and brought it to his lips. "I am."

He pointed at her inbox and stood, still holding her hand. "I know that you have work to do, and there are things that I would like to say to you without interruption. Will you Floo over this evening? I would like you to join me for dinner, and perhaps when we are through, you could help me update my CV?"

Hermione smiled brilliantly and allowed him to pull her to her feet. "I would love to join you this evening." They walked to the door hand-in-hand, and then she rose to her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "What time would you like me to arrive?"

"How soon can you be done here?" he asked, his eyes lingering on her lips.

Hermione's pulse raced in anticipation, but as she spared a glance at her towering stack of mail, she winced. "How does seven o'clock work for you?"