73- Conciliation

Not mine. Don't sue. Plzkthxbye.

Author's Note: Thanks to Ladyofthemasque, Ladyinthecloak, and Horserider for help and feedback! *offers chocolate to those lovely ladies* And thank you to all you lovely folk who have read and reviewed and left me messages on LJ. *hugs* Much of this was what I had still going on in what would have been last chapter, until I realized that it would work better separated into two chapters. So, here's what comes after that last eeevil cliffie. Hope you enjoy! :)

Chapter 73- Conciliation

Their arrival was accompanied by a faint crack, and Dobby squeaked in surprise to see Hermione and Snape in such a position. Those sounds were barely enough to give Snape warning. He launched to the side, rolling himself and Hermione to the floor behind the ottoman and reaching for his wand at the same time as Dumbledore’s Body-Bind Curse sailed over them.

Snape cast a Shield Charm around them even as he covered Hermione with his body for protection, looking up to see the headmaster crossing from the door, his wand trained on them.

“Albus!” Snape’s voice thundered, echoing off the stones. He and Hermione struggled to sit up, and he shoved her behind him as he crouched beside the armchair and ottoman, still maintaining his Shield Charm.

Dumbledore stopped, eyes blazing and chest heaving as he glared at them. Dobby cowered near the door, trembling.

The charged silence broke as Snape hissed, “How dare you barge into my quarters—“

He was cut off by Dumbledore’s incensed roar. “How dare I? How dare you?”

Snape shoved to his feet, Hermione still kneeling and clutching at his clothes behind him. “How dare I what, Albus? Grow up? Leave here? Find someone to love? Build a life for myself? Oh, I dare all right. I dare quite easily, now that I’m out from under your thumb!”

They glared heatedly at each other for a moment, and Hermione slowly pulled herself up, gripping her wand tightly. When she got to her feet, she saw past the chair to where Dobby was against the wall hiding his head under his hands and felt a rush of righteous anger overtake her shock and fear. Stepping out from behind Snape, she cried, “Dobby! Are you all right?”

Snape flailed with his free hand, trying to push her back behind him, but Dumbledore’s infuriated focus was fractured as he flicked the merest glance toward the terrified elf.

It was enough.

Snape dropped his Shield Charm and immediately cast the Disarming Charm at the older man. Dumbledore managed to dodge enough that the spell grazed him, but he retained his grip on his wand. He countered with a Binding Spell even as he tried to regain his balance, the magical ropes slithering through the air toward Snape and Hermione. Snape Banished the ropes before they reached them, but his duel with the Headmaster suddenly ended before it had really begun.

Hermione—outraged that Dumbledore would try to Curse them first and ask questions later, and disgusted that he would use a house-elf to his own ends and not even care about the poor thing’s terror—ducked behind the chair and crawled to the other side, her wand angling up from the floor as she shouted, “Expelliarmus!”

Dumbledore hadn’t thought to contend with what amounted to a sniper attack from his student, and stared helplessly as his wand flew out of his hand and into Hermione’s where she was crouched on the floor with the chair for cover. His astonished and outraged cry of “What the bloody blazes? How could you do that?” echoed off the stones.

As soon as she had his wand, she surged to her feet, her own wand still pointed at him as she emerged from behind the furniture, her face white but for the pink spots of fury burning on her cheeks. “How?” she retorted. “I daresay ‘Dumbledore’s Army’ trained me well.”

Snape stepped forward to take Dumbledore’s wand from her, but she shot him a warning look, and he desisted.

Dumbledore glared daggers at the girl and said, “Miss Granger, give me my wand this instant.”

Tossing her wild hair, which was crackling with all the magical energy that suffused the air around them, she narrowed her eyes. “No.”

Hands balling into fists at his sides, Dumbledore said, “Are you bewitched, you foolish little girl? I am your headmaster! Obey me at once!”

Shaking her head, she coolly said, “Forgive me, sir, but I am no longer your student. Nor have I been for the last couple of hours. Therefore, only my natural respect for you as an elder remains as a reason for me to accede to your demands. A respect, I must say, that is unfortunately diminishing more and more every second. As it stands, I find myself with no desire to obey you anymore.” She paused, then said, “Dobby, are you all right?”

Dobby peeked through his fingers at the triangle before him, afraid to answer. Dumbledore growled, “He followed my order to bring me here, since I could not get through the Floo.” With that, he cut a black glace at Snape. “I couldn’t be sure you were here, but I knew I could get anywhere in the castle with a house-elf, just like you could.”

Lifting her chin, Hermione said, “Then if you’re done using him, tell him he’s free to go! Can’t you see he’s terrified?”

Dumbledore gazed at her for a long moment, then said, “Dobby, you may return to the kitchens. You may not say anything about what you have witnessed here. And if anyone else tries to send a house-elf in or use one to get here, they are expressly forbidden to do so. No house-elf shall come in these quarters while this whole situation is still going on. Is that clear?”

Dobby shivered to his feet and bowed, his face still in his hands. “Yes, Headmaster, sir. Dobby understands.” Then, with another faint crack, he disappeared.

Hermione’s tense posture softened a trifle, but she didn’t lower her wand. Snape stepped closer and rested a hand on her shoulder. “He’ll be fine, love.”

A loud huff of incredulity drew their attention. Dumbledore was shaking his head as he glared at them. “Love? Are you barking mad? What were you playing at, causing such a scene up there? Are you trying to get yourself thrown in Azkaban?”

Snape jumped on his words like a snake striking. “For what? For proposing marriage to the young woman I love, even if it was in front of the school? I am no longer a professor here, and she is no longer a student! We are both of age, and of sound mind—” He was interrupted by Dumbledore’s scoffing snort. Snape’s lips curled and he said, “You just don’t like the fact that my mind is my own now, and not yours to control. We are in love, Albus, whether you like it or not, and we will be together regardless of what the world throws at us!”

Hermione edged closer to him and snaked the hand holding Dumbledore’s wand around Snape’s waist, leaning against him for support even as she kept her wand trained on their former headmaster.

Dumbledore lifted his hands to his face, shoved his glasses down his nose, and ground his palms against his eyes. Steepling his fingers in front of his lips, he said, “Fine. Fine. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, Severus. And, since Miss Granger has disarmed me, I am completely unable to do anything but listen. So, why don’t we just calm ourselves and you can tell me just what in bloody blazes you think you’re doing—both of you.”

Hermione lifted her face to Snape’s and they exchanged a quick look. Then, both gazing back at Dumbledore, they backed toward the chair again, Snape gesturing for the older man to take the chair opposite like he had earlier that evening.

Hermione took the opportunity to change her costume back to her robes and Snape followed suit, but he didn’t bother with his hair. Feeling much more normal, Hermione sank into the chair and Snape leant beside it, propping one leg on the arm. Dumbledore lowered himself into the other chair, frowning at the way Hermione’s left hand crept onto Snape’s thigh, and Snape’s left hand snuck across his body to cover hers. She had tucked Dumbledore’s wand into the space between the cushion and the chair arm, blocking it with her body. Both Snape and Hermione relaxed their aggressive posture, but they still kept their wands in a tight grip.

Dumbledore sucked in a deep breath in an attempt to curb his anger, then said, “Now, tell me how you came to this ridiculous conclusion that you’re ‘in love’ and that proposing to a student in front of the entire school and Ministry was a good idea.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed, but then a smirk spread his lips. Voice lilting with mockery, he said, “Why, Albus, really, we have you to thank.”

Eyes widening with indignation, Dumbledore shot forward, as if to leap to his feet. His outraged “What?” was cut off by his shocked gasp as Snape reacted to the older man’s movements with a Binding Spell, shoving him back into the seat and tying his wrists to the chair arms. Snape’s wand dangled indolently from his fingers as Dumbledore sputtered with fury.

His voice hoarse with shock, Dumbledore said, “What are you doing? How dare you? Release me this instant!”

Snape affected a yawn of boredom, then darted forward, his black eyes glinting menacingly as he snapped, “Silence! You want an explanation? Fine, you’ll get one. But I’ll not have you bouncing up with righteous indignation every five seconds!” He paused to meet the other man’s icy glare with his own. “Besides,” and his voice was a low drawl of warning as he leant forward, “I think it’s high time you know what it feels like to be trapped. Just like I’ve felt for decades.”

Hermione’s hand crept up to cover her mouth as she watched the exchange between the two men. Dumbledore stared at Snape, aghast. Snape met his stare, refusing to back down. Finally, Dumbledore fell back against the chair, blinking, his mouth still open in shock at Snape’s actions and words.

Snape sat back again, resettling himself and heaving a deep sigh. “Now, where was I? Oh, yes, you. We have you to thank, Albus. You were the one to insist that I participate in this whole play endeavour. If I hadn’t, someone else would have been cast opposite Hermione, and I would never have had the chance to get to know her. Of course, even after I was cast, you forced us to meet alone, several times over, to ‘work things out like adults’—if I remember your words correctly. Then you delighted in forcing us into a kind of intimacy no student and teacher should ever share.”

Dumbledore stammered, “W-what do you mean?”

Snape’s eyes narrowed again. “You insisted that she be the one to style my hair for the Phantom. If either of us had ever brought up the idea to brush the other’s hair, outside of this play, you would have snapped us off like a twig! When was the last time anyone but yourself ever spent time brushing and styling your hair?” He didn’t wait for a response, but barrelled on. “Unless it was a barber or a loved one, I’ll wager never!”

Dumbledore merely blinked at him.

Snape’s lips curled in distaste as he continued. “Then you sent us off to London together! Are you blind to the implications of a couple seeing a play like that together? You bloody well sent us on a date, and then you had us stay with the Grangers away from Hogwarts in the aftermath of such a thing!”

He paused to shake his head in remembered disbelief, then went on. “Plus, you kept making comments about how well Hermione and I were getting on, about how much she trusted me, and how I should enjoy the fact that I had made a friend. You teased me about ‘loosening up’ and becoming more ‘mellow.’ You may have praised me for the improved way I treated the Gryffindors, but it wasn’t your influence, it was Hermione’s. And yet, all the time you forced the issue, it was always to win the competition. You didn’t really care what the ramifications of your pushing were, so long as we won. You damn near ordered me to let her kiss me so passionately onstage! You kept trying to meddle in my affairs, even intimating that I should find a ‘special someone’…”

He was momentarily distracted from his rant by Hermione’s huff of indignation. Glancing at her, he saw her glaring at Dumbledore with revulsion in her eyes. Dumbledore, on the other hand, was still staring at Snape in disbelief.

Taking another deep breath to regain control, Snape continued. “Well, I found that someone. She was under your nose all along. You kept pushing us together again and again. It worked. Being with Hermione through so much has taught me things I never had the chance to learn before. I discovered a reason to live now that my dance with death is over. She knows me better than you ever did, old man, because she truly loves me.” He paused to look down at her, lifting her ring-clad hand in his to kiss it. “And I love her more than anything in this world. She is my world now.”

Hermione smiled up at him, eyes bright with tears. Snape released her hand to caress her cheek. Dumbledore cleared his throat and they snapped their gazes to him.

“I-I don’t believe it.” Dumbledore’s voice was raspy and he goggled at them. Both of their beatific expressions dissolved as they bristled at his words.

Snape gripped her hand again and thrust it toward Dumbledore. “Believe it! Do you see this ring? See how it fits? Watch.” He tried to pull the ring down her finger. “It won’t budge! That’s because I had a betrothal charm and anti-theft charm woven in with the sizing charm.” Dumbledore’s eyes widened and Snape smiled. “That’s right. You know what that means. It would never have shrunk to fit had she not accepted my proposal completely.”

Dumbledore stared unblinkingly between them. Voice still hoarse, he said, “Just because it shrank to fit doesn’t mean the feelings are mutual. Miss Granger may very well be besotted with you, Severus, but that doesn’t mean your intentions are true. Who knows how you may have taken a student crush and twisted it to your own ends?”

Snape’s jaw clenched at the accusation, but Hermione immediately burst out with, “Him twisting things? That’s rich, coming from you, sir.” Her eyes burned with disgust as she gazed at him in reproach.

Snape laid a hand on hers and said, “A point, my love, but he has one as well.” He paused to meet her astonished eyes. “Proof of your feelings is there on your hand for all the world to see, but mine is not so visible.” He turned to lock eyes with Dumbledore again. “Very well, Albus. You want more proof? I’ll give it to you, but only because I know it hurts Hermione that you think so poorly of me.”

Dumbledore grimaced at him and rumbled, “What proof can you give me?”

Snape leant forward again and pinned him with his intense stare. “The same kind of proof I’ve given you all my life about where my loyalties lay. Which would you prefer: Legilimency or the Pensieve?”

Both Hermione and Dumbledore gasped. Hermione gripped Snape’s arm to get his attention and eyed him with a furrowed brow, her cheeks flushing. “Severus, are you sure you want to do that? Isn’t that kind of... you know... personal?”

Snape looked at her, one brow climbing as he said, “I told you, I’m not hiding anything anymore. Besides, it’s not much different than what you did with Ginny, is it?”

Dumbledore choked and sputtered, “Miss Weasley? She knows about you two? How? When?”

Snape cut a glance at Dumbledore and drawled, “Ginny figured things out at Christmas. Hermione convinced her to keep our secret. What’s the matter, Albus, don’t like a little girl being cleverer than you?” The older man shot a black glance at Snape and Snape smirked. “All right then, which is it to be?”

Dumbledore glared at him, stone-faced. “Fine, I’ll see what you have to show.”

Snape cast a reassuring look at Hermione and slid off the arm of the chair to sit on the ottoman, on a level with Dumbledore. “Remember, you wanted proof of how I feel about Hermione. Do you really think you’re ready for it?”

Dumbledore tossed his head and sneered. “We’ll see if you’re telling the truth, Severus.” He settled himself in the chair and locked gazes with Snape. “Legilimens!”

Snape felt the buffeting caress of Dumbledore entering his mind, roughly sliding over him like a fitful wind. Determined that the other man should have no remaining questions about Snape’s feelings, Snape consciously opened up, delving back to the burgeoning emotions that had so beguiled and beset him. He purposefully toured through the development of the mutual attraction between him and Hermione, selectively using Occlumency to blur the portions that no doubt would have mortified Hermione. The joy at Hermione’s progressive confessions culminated in his declaration of love in the alley in London, and he held Dumbledore’s invading consciousness in an iron grip, forcing him to feel the crashing waves of adoration that pulled Snape into the undertow of love and devotion, drowning him.

Dumbledore, foolishly thinking he would take a rifling peek through Snape’s mind to see evidence of him manipulating Hermione, gasped aloud at the imprisoning control Snape exerted on his questing brain, completely stunned at the soul-deep intensity of the love Snape felt for the young woman. Thus it was that he quit resisting when Snape dragged him along again, subjecting him to the pain and bewilderment when Dumbledore betrayed him.

Snape once again held his former mentor in that memory, pressing him against the searing pain of it, like trapping him against a hot stove. Dumbledore struggled again, trying to draw away from the anguish, but Snape persisted a moment more before releasing him in favour of tugging him to the aftermath of that event, once again consciously blurring over Hermione’s nudity and skipping the erotic ventures, focusing instead on the comfort she gave him, and the way she embodied a balm to his shattered soul.

Dumbledore limply floated along with Snape as the younger man flashed up scene after scene of domestic bliss and pure happiness and laughter shared with Hermione, ending with the delight and wonder that suffused him as he proposed, eclipsing everything around them when he saw the ring tighten. Knowing full well that Dumbledore was overwhelmed by all that he had felt in Snape’s mind, Snape sat back and closed his eyes, averting his face to thoroughly break the connection.

Dumbledore wilted into his seat, eyes dazed as he blinked slowly. Snape twisted sideways on the ottoman, offering another reassuring look at Hermione. She nodded anxiously at him, cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. When they turned to look at Dumbledore, they both jerked in surprise.

The older man suddenly looked it, as if he had aged in just moments, and he drooped in the chair as tears flowed from beneath his half-moon glasses, drowning the righteous anger and leaving only remorse. After a beat of echoing silence, Snape and Hermione were shocked to hear a wracking sob followed by a shuddering indrawn breath and a shamed whisper of, “I’m sorry.”

Dumbledore’s apology hit Snape like a Bludger in the gut. As much as he had wished for it, as much as he knew he deserved it, as long as he had been waiting for it, he was completely unprepared to get it. Had he been walking, he would have stumbled. As it was, he simply stared as Dumbledore’s face fell, averting his streaming eyes to weep into his beard.

Behind Snape, Hermione looked from Dumbledore to her lover, noting the tension in the high set of his shoulders. Aware of how much those two words meant to Snape, she felt a lump rising in her throat as well. The silence stretched on, broken only by Dumbledore’s uneven breaths as his wretchedness was purged through his tears.

Hermione was about to reach forward and rest a comforting hand on Snape’s back when he suddenly shot to his feet, brandishing his wand. A clipped incantation Vanished the ropes securing Dumbledore to the chair and Snape spun, resting his forehead against his wrist as he leant against the mantel. Dumbledore lifted his hands to hide his face, curling forward and propping his elbows on his knees.

Hermione sat, frozen, unsure of what to do. She pulled Dumbledore’s wand from between the cushion and chair arm and held it limply, dithering over whether she should give it back or not.

Dumbledore burrowed in a pocket of his robes and withdrew a handkerchief. He was clearly trying to regain control of himself as he wiped his eyes and blew his nose, his spectacles clamped in one hand. Sniffling hugely, he shoved them back onto his crooked nose and dared a glance at Snape’s back where he stood at the hearth. Twisting the fabric in his hands, he rasped, “Severus… please.”

Hermione flicked a look at Snape and saw his jaw throbbing as he clenched his teeth. His eyes were screwed shut and his hands gripped into fists. There was a long pause as he struggled, then he shoved back from the mantel and dropped his hands to his sides, sucking in a deep breath through his nose. Swallowing hard, he spun on his heel and met Dumbledore’s imploring gaze.

Dumbledore stretched a hand out to Snape and repeated, “Severus… please.” He gestured to the ottoman again and Snape sank onto it. Bowing his head, the older man said, “It’s my fault. I see that now. I had no idea… no, that’s not right. I refused to see what was there in front of me. Minerva tried to tell me, but I wouldn’t listen. I was too focused on myself and I ignored how I hurt you. I’m sorry, Severus. I can never forgive myself for the pain I put you through, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you can’t either.”

Hermione’s hands crept up to cover her trembling lips, shocked that Dumbledore had admitted his culpability. She wished she could see Snape’s face, but all she could see was his back, posture tense once again.

Snape cleared his throat and rumbled, “I take it you believe that I am in earnest about my feelings for Hermione?”

Dumbledore lifted wondering eyes to Snape and shook his head faintly. “I would never have imagined it, but there is no doubt about your sincerity.”

Hermione’s heart lifted, and her hands hid a tremulous smile. Before her, Snape twisted sideways and cast a glance at her, uttering a clipped, “Good.”

Snape shoved to his feet and strode to the dining table, closing the box that was on it. Dumbledore watched him go, then turned to Hermione, a wistful expression on his face. “May I offer my congratulations to you both, Miss Granger?”

Hermione recognized the olive branch for what it was and nodded. “Thank you, Professor.” She looked back at his wand in her hands and then cast an awkward glance at Snape. “Severus?” Snape slanted a dark look over his shoulder and she tilted her head at Dumbledore’s wand, jiggling it meaningfully. “Well?”

Snape turned and crossed back to her, looking from the wand to its owner and back. His suspicion was obvious. “If we return your wand, do we have your word that you will not use it to continue persecuting us?”

Dumbledore lifted his hands, palms out. “You have my word. I’m sorry for the way I behaved before. But I will need to return upstairs and deal with the repercussions. I would like to have my wand back for that, please.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide and she met Snape’s frown with a worried look. “Repercussions… what do you think will happen, sir?”

Dumbledore heaved a sigh and blinked rapidly. “You two left quite an uproar behind. Gods know what’s been going on up there since I left. I would hope that the Ministry officials will be waiting until I return before contacting their colleagues. I’m sure there will be an inquest—“

Snape cut in, growling, “Hermione’s grades are perfectly legitimate! I’m sure you saw her N.E.W.T.s already. I wasn’t even the one to test her—the Wizarding Examinations Authority did that. She is of age, and is no longer a student here, nor was she when I proposed! Her Ministry contract is binding, regardless of her personal life, provided she doesn’t break any laws, so her job is safe. We’re not stupid, Albus; we made sure to cover all contingencies. As a matter of fact, we can leave here right away and make the break from Hogwarts even cleaner if you like. Spinner’s End is ready for us.”

Dumbledore nodded placatingly, but said, “I understand, Severus, but clearly a proposal is not something one does at the beginning of a relationship, so the question stands about how long you’ve been involved, and just how involved you’ve been.” He flicked an uncomfortable glance between them.

Hermione, flushing awkwardly, sat forward and burst forth with, “We haven’t… that is… not all the… well, I mean… if you’re talking about… you know, consummation, then… we’ve never…”

Snape whirled on her, glaring as he coloured furiously, hissing, “Hermione! That’s none of his business!”

Dumbledore, trying vainly to look as if discussing the sexual liaisons between his staff and students weren’t extremely embarrassing, retorted, “On the contrary, Severus. Miss Granger has the right of it. If I am to help calm the furore and keep you out of Azkaban, then the question of the extent of your intimacy is a pertinent one.” He lifted his chin and eyed Snape loftily. “Can you honestly, even under the influence of Veritaserum if required, say that you two have not had sex?”

Snape, looking as if he were about to fling hexes at the unarmed man—well, either that or spit nails—cut a guilty glance at Hermione, then bit out, “We have not engaged in intercourse.” His lip curled in distaste at sharing such details, but inwardly he reeled in thanks that he had refused to cross that line. While he had mainly done so to keep his word, for himself, he was glad that he could make the distinction if necessary.

Hermione huddled in her chair, face bright red with mortification. It was one thing to share some details with Ginny, and quite another to do so with someone like Dumbledore; the man seemed like everyone’s dotty great-uncle! Biting her lower lip, she murmured, “Do you think it will come to that? Veritaserum?”

Snape’s arms crossed defensively over his chest, and he scowled at the room in general. Dumbledore shrugged eloquently. “I don’t know. Hopefully, I still have enough authority that my testimony will be enough to stave off such a possibility. If we’re lucky, they’ll leave me to handle it, and it won’t come to that.”

Dumbledore’s words seemed to sink through Snape’s seething indignation. Blinking, he turned to the older man and said, “Wait. Your authority? Did I hear you correctly? Are you talking about helping us?”

He stared incredulously at Dumbledore, his brow furrowed. Hermione’s hands rose to clamp over her mouth again, afraid to distract them from what she could sense was an important moment.

Dumbledore rose, his expression once again wistful. Closing the distance between them, he locked gazes with Snape and whispered, “I can only say I’m sorry so much. And a wise man once told me that platitudes are meaningless; actions speak louder than words.” He reached out and gripped Snape’s arm. “I’ve told you before that you are like a son to me and that I care for you. You told me to prove it. Family protects those they love, Severus. I’m here to help you. If you’ll let me.”

He ducked his head in humility, and Snape stared, completely taken aback. A hot flush of shame washed over him, meeting the warmth bubbling up within his chest. Swallowing hard, he floundered, unsure of what to do.

He had always wanted Dumbledore’s approval and regard, until the man had hurt him beyond imagining. Then, his anger simmered, always under the surface, demanding an admission of guilt and real remorse. For months, Dumbledore hadn’t shown any of what Snape required, so Snape had stoked the fire of his anger, banking it so it wouldn’t burn out. And now, Dumbledore had not only given him the apology and remorse he felt he deserved, but he was offering to do what only a man with his standing in the wizarding world could do: Help smooth Snape’s path on his journey toward freedom.

Conflicting emotions roiled in his gut, and he felt a flash of panic, not knowing what the best course of action was. Instinctively, he looked to Hermione, appeal evident in his eyes. She gazed at him over her hands covering her mouth, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears. Head tilting to one side, she nodded slowly, silently urging him to accept Dumbledore’s offer.

Snape looked back at the older man’s averted face, then glanced at his hand gripping Snape’s bicep. Reaching across and clamping down on Dumbledore’s wrist, he pried the man’s hand from his arm. Dumbledore glanced up, startled and dismayed. Snape looked up and locked gazes with him. Without a word, Snape slid his grip down Dumbledore’s wrist, slipping it against his palm and clasping hands.

Dawning comprehension and relieved gratitude spread over Dumbledore’s face, and his eyes once again filled with tears. Hitching a breath, he tugged on Snape’s hand clasped in his, pulling the younger man into an embrace. Dumbledore wrapped his arms around Snape, patting him on the back as he released a shuddering breath, and Snape remained silent, letting his uncharacteristic intimacy speak for him.

Hermione smiled tremulously, wiping her eyes and sniffing back her happy tears.

The tableau lasted for a long, charged moment, then Snape stiffened, trying to draw back out of Dumbledore’s embrace. His cheeks were flushed and his expression was one of ill-concealed awkwardness. Dumbledore released him and backed away, smiling weakly.

As if by reflex, Snape stepped back from Dumbledore and turned to Hermione, closing the distance between them quickly as she stood to comfort him, slipping her arms around his waist and pressing her face against his chest. Heaving a sigh of relief, Snape curled one arm around her shoulders and caressed her hair with the other hand, ducking his head to kiss her curls.

Dumbledore backed toward the hearth, watching them with an expression of fascination and incredulity. Now that he had seen and felt all that Snape had showed him, he could recognize the connection between the pair, and he shook his head in wonder at the intensity of it.

Hermione pulled back and lifted her face to Snape. In a low murmur, she said, “So, dear heart, shall we return his wand and let him go fend off the Ministry for us?” She tilted her head and wrinkled her nose. “I can think of some others we need to talk to… and soon.”

Snape frowned at her, perplexed at her remark. “Who?”

Hermione cocked one brow and shot him a grimace of anxiety. “My parents.”

Snape’s eyes snapped open wide, and he sucked in a breath. Swallowing in dismay, he blinked, recognizing her point. Slanting a look back at Dumbledore—who irritated him by managing to look sympathetic and somehow already regaining his characteristic twinkle of amusement—he closed his eyes and thinned his lips, nodding. Gazing back down at her, he said, “May as well.”

Hermione stepped back, holding Dumbledore’s wand, and looked at him near the fireplace. But, when she started to move toward him to give it back, she stopped, cutting a glance at Snape. Nodding to herself, she proffered it to him instead and said, “Why don’t you?”

Snape’s brows rose in surprise, and he flicked a look at Dumbledore. Locking eyes again with Hermione, he cottoned on to her meaning. Inclining his head in understanding, he took the wand from her and crossed to Dumbledore.

“Would you rather I just let you out, or would you prefer to leave by Floo? I can unblock it, provided you agree to not try to come back through. I think it would be prudent for us to leave tonight. As soon as we can gather our things, we’ll be Flooing to Spinner’s End.” He held the wand out, handle forward, and Dumbledore took it.

“I’ll just leave by the front door, if you please. I wouldn’t want anyone else to try to Floo in here before you’re ready to leave. I daresay you’ll have your hands full… explaining to the Grangers.” He inclined his head and peered over his glasses at Snape, lips quirked in a wry smile.

Snape heaved a deep breath, scowling. “Fine.” He strode to the door and unlocked it, disarming his wards. “And I daresay you’ll have enough to be going on with when you get up there, since all and sundry are doubtless going to be accosting you for information.” He rolled his eyes. As Dumbledore joined him at the door, Snape reached for the knob, then paused. Frowning again, he cast a wary glance at Dumbledore and said, “If you would, please tell Minerva that I’ll be contacting her soon. I’m sure she’s beyond shocked, and I… want her to understand.”

Dumbledore nodded sagely. “I’ll be certain to pass along the message.” He paused and Snape opened the door. “And any messages I have for you will be sent to Spinner’s End.”

Snape nodded and Dumbledore left, lifting his hand in farewell. Snape shut the door and quickly locked it, resetting his wards. When he turned to face Hermione again, she was already walking toward him.

Flinging herself against him and squeezing tight, she said, “Mercy, that was nerve-wracking!”

Snape snorted and said, “Indeed.” He pulled back and lifted her face to his, his expression pleading. “All the more reason we should wait to see your parents, right? Haven’t you had enough stress for one evening?”

Hermione grimaced and backed away. “Nice try, love. You do realize that if we wait, someone else will get to them first? Do you really want to have to deal with not only telling them, but having to pick up the pieces from the resulting explosion if they hear about it from elsewhere first?” She shook her head, face solemn. “No. We have to tell them. And soon.” Her hands flew up in the air and the looked heavenward as she burst out with, “Gods! Can you just imagine how awful we’d be painted if someone like Rita Skeeter got to them first?”

Snape recoiled. Shuddering, he growled, “All right. Then let’s get your things and get out of here. As soon as we have everything safe at Spinner’s End, we can go to your parents’ house.”

She nodded sharply, and they immediately set to gathering his remaining items and setting them by the hearth. Then, they Apparated to her room, where they collected her baggage and Crookshanks. Finally, with everything piled within easy reach, Snape unblocked the Floo and they made several trips between his sitting room and Spinner’s End, Hermione taking the time to put Crookshanks’s food and water down and set up a litter box before they finished.

Standing in the living room at Spinner’s End, Snape blocked the Floo there, to keep out overzealous inquiries. Turning to Hermione, he looked at the time and said, “It’s late. Why don’t we wait till later? Surely you don’t want to disturb your parents now?”

Hermione pinned him with a black look and said, “They’re going to be ‘disturbed’ regardless, Severus! The longer we wait, the worse it may be. Let’s just get this over with.” Frowning, she crossed her arms and sighed, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

Snape reached up to run a hand through his hair and realized it was still slicked back for the Phantom. Clearing his throat, he said, “I’ll be just a moment,” and hastened to the toilet. While he removed the elastic and raked his fingers through his hair to separate the gelled tresses, he stared at himself in the mirror. You never thought to contend with this so soon! How do you propose to approach them now that you’ve proposed to their daughter? You may not care about what others think about you, but you can’t afford to write off these two. They’re going to be an integral part of your relationship with Hermione; they’re her parents and they love her. You know they liked you before, but can they ever love you as well?

Gripping the sink basin and bowing his head, he took several deep breaths in an attempt to steady his nerves. Shooting one last apprehensive look at himself, he left the sanctuary of the W.C. to rejoin Hermione in the living room.

She was pacing back and forth, her eyes roaming over the furnishings, but not seeing them. When Snape appeared, she snapped her attention to him and swallowed hard. “Ready?”

Snape crossed to her and caressed her arms in an attempt at comfort. “Where shall we Apparate to: the back garden, or the alley nearby, or inside?”

Hermione chewed her lip and said, “I guess we may as well just Apparate into my room like I did when I went to get the programme. Do you remember what it looks like?”

Snape smirked. “My dear, I will never forget what it looked like with you dressed up in that little girl’s room.”

Hermione managed a faint answering smile. “All right then. We’ll both Apparate, unless you want me to take you?”

“I’ll manage. I’ll go by the door, and you can go by the vanity table.”

Hermione nodded again and they separated. Gazes locked, with matching expressions of trepidation and determination, they both disappeared on the spot.