Goodbyes

Sitting on the window seat, Hermione quietly watched Andrene pack up her few belongings. It amazed her how close two people could grow in such a short time. Andrene had always been honest about the shortness of her visit, but Hermione felt a bit bereft now it was time for the Firewalker to leave.

Turning to regard her student kindly, Andrene walked over to the window seat and pulled Hermione onto her feet and into a tight hug. "Already you are missing me and I not even gone yet," she said with a soft chuckle.

"I will miss you, Andrene," Hermione said, hugging the older woman tightly. "I'm not sure I can handle all this without you."

"Now child, what sweet nanny goat a go run him belly! You might think it a great thing to stay hole up here with this old woman, but young woman needs more in life than this. You are free to see your friends now and go back to your classes, nuh true?"

"Yes, and I've missed them." Hermione looked up at Andrene with worry reflecting in her eyes. "What if I mess it all up, Andrene? I barely know what I'm doing!"

"I've told you before and I tell you again; all any of us can be doing is try muddle through this world the best we can. You are a kind girl, Hermione, with a good head on you shoulders. That salamander gave you this gift because your compassion for him plight was stronger than your fear of him. I'm thinking he couldn't have picked him a better person. I'm proud of you girl."

Eyes sparkling with unshed tears, Hermione smiled up at Andrene. "I'll try my best," she said softly.

"I know you will, girl. An you remember that I am only an owl or a floo away." Andrene chuckled again. "When you get a chance, you come visit my Negril; I'll take you out to Shorty's. We'll ask him make you something fit for an Englishwoman and watch him screw up his face."

"If worse comes to worse, Madame, Miss Granger can always eat rice and peas," a deep voice called from the doorway to Professor Snape's sitting room.

Eyeing with amusement the black-robed man hovering in the doorway, Andrene said, "Did you come to see me off then?"

"I came to celebrate the re-taking of my quarters," Severus retorted with a smirk, but he entered the room nonetheless, extending his hand to the Firewalker politely.

"When your damn war be over, an this girl comes to Shorty's to eat rice and peas, I hope I will see you there as well, young man," Andrene said, giving him that gamine grin he seemed to find so annoying. Noting his nearly playful mood plunge abruptly, Andrene continued in a more serious manner. "I do hope you realize, Severus, that your company would be welcome. I have enjoyed our dinners here very much and I have not even begun to show you all the tasty delights my Jamaica has to offer."

"I, too, have enjoyed our evenings, Andrene, but I doubt it will be possible for me to visit after the war." Severus released her hand and retreated nearer to his desk. His expression had reverted to its normal look of shuttered disdain.

Concerned, Andrene probed his feelings lightly. The whirling mixture of sorrow and determination confused the experienced Empath for a moment; until she remembered what Albus had said of the Potions Professor. Ah...yes. Chicken merry, hawk deh near. I've so enjoyed his company here in the safety of his chambers that I nearly forgot the man's a spy. I've not known a spy in my whole life that did not balk at making plans any further away than next week. They cannot afford to make such promises; they are a short-lived people. Smiling at him kindly, Andrene continued, "I ask no promises, Severus Snape, but time longer than rope. I will hope to see you there unless I be told it no longer possible."

For a moment, Severus gave the older woman a piercing look. His expression changed into a wistful smirk as he said--almost lightly--"Don't hold your breath, Firewalker."

This whole exchange succeeded only in confusing Hermione. Andrene had taught the young witch that being able to read the emotions of others was easy, interpreting them correctly would take her a lifetime to learn. Hermione couldn't have asked for a more perfect example of this very lesson. Andrene's mixture of affection, pity, and wistful hope--combined with her Professor's sudden bout of sorrow and determination--had Hermione so befuddled, she couldn't even hazard a guess at what was going through the two older wizards' minds. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good. The glance she cast over her Professor was filled with worry.

Finally, it came time for Andrene to leave. Giving her young student another firm hug, Andrene completely shocked Professor Snape by giving him the same treatment. Hermione couldn't stop an amused grin as she watched her Professor's eyes widen in shock when Andrene hugged him. She was then forced to bite back a chuckle as she saw Professor Snape give Andrene the same awkward shoulder pat that the young Gryffindor had so often been subjected to herself. Now that man obviously has never gotten enough hugs. I believe I ought to try to do something about that. I'm not the brightest witch of my age for nothing; if I can't figure out how to get more hugs into the man's life, I don't know who could. Hmm...sounds like a new campaign. Wouldn't Ron and Harry throw a complete eppy! What to call it? Hug Impossible Potions Professor Often?

Hermione's inner monologue was interrupted by Andrene taking her leave and disappearing into the floo. Both professor and student stood, lost in their own thoughts a moment, gazing into the fire where the cheerful Firewalker had vanished. Eventually, Severus mentally shook himself and turned to regard Miss Granger with a disdainful look. "Well, Miss Granger? I'm sure you're as ready to get back to your Gryffindor friends as I am to once again have my rooms to myself," he announced with a sneer. "Perhaps you could do me the utmost of favors and get along with it."

Smiling at him calmly, Hermione ignored his gruff tone and said, "It's true it will be nice to see my friends, but I can't say I'm thrilled to be leaving. I've quite enjoyed your library..." she hesitated but a moment, "as well as your company." Ignoring his disbelieving snort, Hermione set her already packed knapsack near the door before crossing back to a startled Professor Snape and wrapping her arms firmly about his waist in a tight hug. No time like the present, she mused, to start her new campaign.

Startled speechless for a moment, Severus gave Hermione's shoulder a habitual pat before finding his tongue. "Honestly, Miss Granger, it is highly inappropriate for you to treat one of your Professor's in this off-hand manner," he said through gritted teeth. It took all his will not to wrap his arms around the little minx and ask her to stay--quite certain she'd be appalled if he were ever to do so. The girl was kindness itself; little wonder she would hug even her irritating Potion's master. But, were he to return the embrace the way he most wished, she'd run from the room screaming.

Chuckling, Hermione said in a chastising tone, "I'm quite certain there is not one mention in the Hogwarts rules and regulations prohibiting an occasional hug, Professor."

"Be that as it may, I believe we have already discussed the necessity for this sort of thing not becoming habit. This is the fifth time you have...hugged me...and I find myself increasingly distressed by your lack of propriety."

Fifth time? He's keeping count? Is he really distressed? Keeping her arms firmly locked around Professor Snape's waist, she lightly probed his feelings. No, not distressed...Nimue's green garters, he likes it! I'm not about to stop then. Only why does he like it? Is it simply because he needs hugs, or could it be because of me? Now there's a quandary that's going to keep you up nights, Granger. "Keeping count are we, Professor?" she said cheekily. "That doesn't sound like the actions of a distressed man to me. It sounds like someone who doesn't get enough hugs, if you can so easily keep track. I'll have to work on that, I think. Besides, I'm afraid your warnings have all been in vain, as it's already become habit. I'm afraid I'm quite addicted to hugging you, sir." Releasing him, she noted his wide-eyed expression and the way his lips twitched as if wanting to form words, but having not an inkling which ones to form. Taking pity on the man--obviously sorely unused to this sort of attention--she thanked him warmly for all he had done on her behalf. Giving him another brief hug, she gathered up her knapsack and left his study.

During the whole business, Severus hadn't managed a single word. As she left, softly closing the door to his study, he at last found his voice enough to mutter, "Impudent chit," but his tone suggested his heart wasn't in it. It came out sounding much like an endearment.

*****************************************

Scrambling through the entrance revealed by the open portrait of the Fat Lady, Hermione had only a moment to drop her knapsack before she was hit in the chest by sixteen pounds of enthusiastic ginger tom. "Crooks!" she squealed, catching him in her arms and returning his joyful welcome.

"I see they finally let you out of...the infirmary," Ron said with an uncertain grin from where he and Harry were playing wizard's chess near the fire.

Returning the grin wholeheartedly, Hermione said, "It's good to be out. I've missed you both terribly!"

Releasing Crookshanks, Hermione returned the greetings of the other Gryffindor students lounging about the common room before walking over to the fire to give her best friends a quick hug. As she hugged Harry, he whispered, "We need a chat, care to visit the library?" Nodding her answer against his neck, she released him to pick up her knapsack.

"I'll go put my things away and give Crooks a good brushing, then I think I'll head down to the library--I've got so much catching up to do!" Hermione said, with all the false honesty she could muster.

"Honestly, Hermione!" Harry answered in kind. "All you ever do is study! Surely you can enjoy one evening before you get back to it?"

"As I keep trying to drive into your heads, it's never too early to start studying for N.E.W.T.S.! We've only seven months left!" Hermione returned, hoping her tone was more exasperated than sarcastic.

"Well, if you're going to the library, we're coming with you," demanded Ron.

"Oh, all right then," Hermione said huffily, "if you insist." Biting back a giggle, she climbed the stairs to the seventh year girl's dormitory, Crooks following in her wake. The trio had played many scenes such as that in order to get some privacy, without arousing suspicion. Ron had turned out to be best at it; Hermione supposed growing up with five brothers had prepared him well for bouts of intrigue. After putting her things away, and a long chat with Crooks over a good brushing, Hermione re-joined her friends and headed off to the library. Upon entering, they made way to a study niche and--after warding it with a silencing spell--were at last free to talk openly.

"So how did the training go? I was shocked to see you back in the common room after only a week," asked Harry.

"It went well. Oh, I'll have to practice for years and years before I'm anywhere near as good at it as Andrene, but there's no more danger of me going mad. It was all very interesting."

"Do you really like him?" blurted out Ron. "Snape, I mean. Harry said he thought you rather...fancied him." Ron ended the statement with a look as if he were about to start belching slugs at the mere thought.

Blushing to the roots of her hair, Hermione began saying, "What in the world gave you..." Her mouth snapped shut. Damn it! As uncomfortable as the subject made her, these two were her best friends. If she couldn't be honest with them--and if they couldn't deal with it--then maybe they weren't as close as she'd always believed. She began to speak again, tone much softer and far less confident, "I think I do fancy him a bit. He's an interesting man. He's different when he doesn't have to play at "Death Eater spy" and I quite liked him." The irate fireworks Hermione expected never materialized--the young men sat staring at her for a moment. Confused, Hermione gently probed their feelings. From Harry she got rather grudging acceptance, which made sense to her as he'd admitted finding Professor Snape a bit dashing himself. Ron was harder to figure out. From him she read an odd mix of protectiveness and resignation. In any event, neither of them seemed likely to explode over the matter.

"At any rate, it's a moot point. While he has been incredibly kind to me, he's been incredibly proper as well. I have no reason at all to believe he feels anything in return, and I expect he'd dismiss any feelings on my part as some misguided schoolgirl crush."

"Actually, Hermione, I rather think he fancies you," Harry said calmly.

"Harry," Hermione said, rolling her eyes, "you couldn't possibly know anything of the sort."

"It's just a hunch," Harry admitted.

"Besides," added Ron, "it's not like you can't figure it out, now you're all Empath-y."

"I haven't tried to. Honestly, what's the point? I've been avoiding doing just that because...if he thinks I'm only an annoying little schoolgirl--I don't want to know!" Hermione sighed. "It hardly matters at this point. Even if we ignore the fact that we're at war, and there are more important things to worry about, he's a professor and I'm a student. It's not as if anything can come of it until I graduate."

"Hermione, your Muggle heritage is showing," said Ron. "It's not like that in the wizarding world. Wizard population has been in a slow decline for the last two centuries, the last war with You-Know-Who and the present one have thinned the ranks even more. To put it bluntly, wizard government wants babies, so there are no rules at Hogwarts--or at any other wizarding school I know of--preventing professors and students of legal age from fraternizing."

"Ronald Weasley, how can that possibly be true?" Hermione asked, eyes wide.

"Oh, it's true enough. Mum told me--back when she was at school--the DADA Professor married a student still in the middle of her seventh year. Course, he got killed by a hag the next year, so I guess it's not a very cheerful example. Nowadays it hasn't been an issue, as Snape's really the only teacher close to young enough and who'd have him? Er...present company excluded, of course," Ron finished with a chagrined smile.

"But what's to keep a Professor from taking advantage of their authority?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"Hermione, we're talking about wizards. The power's in the hands of the student. All they'd have to do is squawk to the nearest teacher, then both are given a nice cup of tea laced with Veritaserum. If the professor's done anything they oughtn't, they're sent packing at the least, or sent to trial if it's bad enough. I heard some woman at Durmstrang got sent to Azkaban."

"I expect that would make any professor think twice about getting involved with a student if they weren't serious about it," said Harry thoughtfully.

Gaping at the boys, it took a moment for Hermione to collect herself. She knew the wizarding world was different than the Muggle world she grew up in, yet she was constantly surprised by how much. "If this is true, and if Harry is right and Professor Snape...er...likes me...then why is his behavior towards me so bloody proper? I can't even give him a hug without him bemoaning my impropriety in some fashion."

"Hmmm...he might not be talking about school impropriety, Hermione. We're at war, and he's a spy," said Harry. "I've already been warned by Draco not to act out of character around Snape. No matter what we feel about him personally, if we change how we treat him in public we'll be bound to cause him trouble with Voldemort."

"That's true enough. I'll have to be careful. It doesn't explain why he acted the way he did when we were safe in his study though," Hermione said with a sigh.

"I think you're giving the man too much credit," Ron said with a smirk. "I doubt Snape's ever had a student who...er...liked him. He's probably completely clueless about how you feel."

Raising both eyebrows in surprise, Hermione said, "I've not considered that. I'll have to give the matter some thought," she finished with a grin.

******************************************

Gazing out the window of his study at a starless night, Severus Snape was lost in thought. His face gave no clue to what he was thinking; he only stared calmly, quietly, into the black nothingness of a cloudy autumn evening. Eventually, he turned to glance about the empty room, the same unreadable expression in his eyes. Walking to the door, he gave the room one last glance, eyes coming to rest for a moment on the window seat, before he snuffed the torches into darkness with a quiet charm and went to bed.