Trouble No Set Like Rain

A dim yellow sun broke over the snow-swept Hogwarts' grounds on Saturday morning. Standing at the window of his study, Severus watched the dawn break as he sipped at a cup of Darjeeling. He thought the day looked coldly aloof--beautiful perhaps, in its white simplicity, but distant and unfeeling. He knew he should heed the morning--emulate it--if he could but find the strength. Why the hell did I hug the vixen? Aosoth's tail! I've turned into a foolish letch. I have worries enough with the war; Draco's information was not comforting, to say the least. Why do I find myself able to think of nothing but the feeling of my arms wrapped tight around her, her heart fluttering against my chest, her warm breath on my neck? Turning suddenly from the window seat--her window seat--Severus flung his empty cup into the unlit hearth across the room. The cup shattered with a small explosion of noise, bringing Turpin scampering into the room in alarm.

"Severus!" In his worry, Turpin actually called his master by name instead of insult. "What the bloody fuck is going on?"

Crossing to the sofa, Severus sat down and dropped his head in his hands. Turpin clambered onto the sofa and tried in vain to push his way under Severus' arms and onto his lap. Eventually Severus gave way before the paws digging at his arms, sitting up to give the jarvey some room. Jumping onto Severus' lap, Turpin sat with his front paws on his master's chest, his nose only inches from Severus' face as he regarded his master with concern.

"What's buggering you, you daft hinny? Is it the Muggleborn vixen? Was she cruel to you? I'll bite her ankles when she comes in here again."

"If you bite Miss Granger's ankles, she won't read you another word of Tolkien, you know," Severus said with a small, amused snort. The comical jarvey never failed to cheer him up, even when he was at his most despairing. "The girl is kindness personified, Turpin. She has done nothing to warrant your teeth."

"But she bothers you, I know the tart does. Why don't you just mate with her and get it over with?" the jarvey said in all seriousness.

"It's not that simple fur-face. It's much more complicated when you're dealing with wizards," Severus said with a sigh.

"Maybe you only think it's bloody complicated, Syphilis. No offense, but you're as good at social niceties as I am at flying."

"Want to try your paws at flying again?" Severus growled.

"Don't you dare hex me into a bat again, you fucking wanker! I'm serious!" groused the jarvey.

"I know you are, Turpin," Severus said, regarding the jarvey with serious eyes. "Actually, there is something we should talk about. This isn't just about the vixen--that...situation...only makes the rest more difficult. You know my work is dangerous. One of these days, Turpin, I won't be coming back. We need to discuss what's to become of you when that happens..." At this point, Severus' voice trailed off because Turpin had buried his head in Severus' armpit, keening piteously. Pulling the jarvey out, Severus cradled his upset familiar on his lap and spoke to him softly. "Hush now...hush...you daft hinny...I'm not going anywhere just yet...but it's important for me to know your wishes on the matter. I was thinking of asking the vixen to look after you. She's very kind, Turpin...she would be good to you and she'd keep you safe. It's true she has a familiar already, but you like cats well enough."

Looking up at his master, Turpin quieted his sniffling long enough to whisper, "I don't want you to go, Severus, even if you are a pervy toss-pot."

"I know you don't," Severus whispered back, his black eyes infinitely sad. "Truth is I don't want to go myself. It's far too late for me to turn back now, no matter how I might wish to." Severus cleared his throat gruffly. "What shall I tell the vixen then? Shall I ask her?"

"Yes, ask her," Turpin managed to murmur before he again buried his head in Severus' armpit.

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

Making her way to the dungeons after lunch, Hermione opened Professor Snape's study door to a charming sight. There sat her Professor on the sofa, reading a book with Turpin curled in his lap fast asleep. Slipping off Harry's invisibility cloak, Hermione said quietly, "Turpin looks completely knackered."

Severus gave her a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. "He's had a rough morning," he said, in equally low tones. "We needed to discuss a subject that was not to his liking."

Crossing to sit gently beside him on the sofa, Hermione turned to her Professor with serious eyes. "Is anything the matter?"

"No. Not at present, at any rate. However, it does concern you, Miss Granger. Perhaps it would be best if we discussed it now, while Turpin is asleep."

"Certainly, sir. As you wish," Hermione said, trying to quiet her wildly beating heart. Whatever could be the matter...

"Miss Granger, I am certain you understand quite well the danger involved in my work for the Order. We are at war--there is no...guarantee...that I will survive it..."

Hermione could not stifle her gasp. Yes, she knew they were at war, just as she knew he was a spy, but the mere thought of her dear Professor no longer being in her life tore at her heart. "The meeting yesterday, it frightened me, sir. Perhaps the Headmaster is right...perhaps it's time for you to stop..."

"I will tell you the same thing I told him--my work is no more dangerous than ever it was," Severus evaded.

Hermione was not fooled. "Forgive me if I don't find that statement very comforting. It only makes me think that your whole career as a spy has kept you in constant mortal danger."

Severus couldn't hide a small smirk of amusement. The girl really was the brightest witch of her age--even Albus hadn't caught that one. "My life is what it is, Miss Granger, there is no sense wasting time discussing it. What I need to ask you concerns Turpin, not my infamous war career. There are no guarantees for any of us, Miss Granger. Should anything happen to me--would you be so kind as to look after Turpin? He adores you, you know, and he should get along well enough with your Crookshanks."

For a moment, Hermione could not speak around the lump that had formed in her throat. This man, this sarcastic, difficult, wonderful man trusted her enough to ask her this. Trying to ignore the tears that pricked at the back of her eyes, Hermione answered him in such soft tones that Severus could barely hear her. "Of course I shall take care of him, should it become necessary. Turpin is my friend and I love him."

Gazing down at his familiar fondly, Severus replied softly. "I thank you, Miss Granger. Turpin's early life was most unpleasant. Knowing he shall be safe means more to me than you can imagine. You are most kind."

"Kindness has nothing to do with it, my dear Professor. I would look after Turpin regardless, because I care for him...just as I care for you."

At this declaration, Severus went quite still. He simply sat for a moment, staring at the jarvey in his lap, not speaking, barely even breathing. Don't be a fool, he thought. She didn't mean that the way it sounded. Hermione doesn't care for me--not like that--she means only that we are friends. That is as it should be...it's easiest...dear gods, but I wish...

Almost desperate to end his current train of thought, Severus spoke a bit gruffly, "Now that is settled, what did you think of the illustrious Porcini's latest potions article?"

Hermione smiled at the abrupt change of subject. Ron had been right; the man was clueless. One of these days she would have to use her Gryffindor bravery to make an all out declaration--but not today. Though she refused to put it off much longer, she still hoped to gently ease her stubborn Professor into realizing how she felt, rather than whacking him over the head with it. "I thought Mr. Porcini's article was complete and utter tripe, as per usual. I found that bit where he rambled on about adding mistletoe to the Draft of Peace particularly dense. Added in the amounts he was suggesting would make the whole lot poisonous."

Turpin slept on, unconsciously comforted by the voices of his two best friends as they fell into one of their usual debates.

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

December seemed to flash by. Almost before Hermione realized it, the Christmas break arrived. She would not be going home for the hols this year--the Headmaster had encouraged all Muggleborn students to stay at Hogwarts over the break. Death Eater activity had increased and there was no place safer for students such as Hermione than Hogwarts. Severus was called to the Dark Lord's side three times during December. Each time he noticed nothing out of the ordinary and the Dark Lord treated him much as he had always done. The general consensus was that whatever it was that Draco had overheard, it had nothing to do with the Order's main spy.

The Order's main spy was nigh about to drive Hermione barking mad. All through December, Hermione had tried 'the subtle approach' and either Professor Snape was more clueless than she imagined, or he was ignoring her advances. Hermione had tried adoring glances, calling him 'my dear Professor' more often, touching him more often, and increasing her normal rate of hugs, but all to no avail. She was fast deciding she must whack the man over the head--figuratively and perhaps even literally--if she wanted to have any sort of relationship with him before she turned eighty. So, with both great trepidation and great determination, Hermione decided it was time to face the matter head on.

The next time she gave Professor Snape one of her daily hugs (according to Severus' count, number 114), Hermione turned her face up and kissed him on the neck. His response was not quite what she was hoping for.

Pushing her bodily away, Severus regarded her with wide eyes and practically shouted, "Miss Granger, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

"I was kissing you," Hermione said calmly, "at least I was trying to. You are a difficult man to kiss, my dear Professor. I've been trying to do so all month."

Her dear Professor looked completely gobsmacked. "Why in the world would you want to do that?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

Here it was, zero hour. Time to whack the man over the head with her feelings. "Because I'm in love with you, Severus," she said calmly, staring him fearlessly in the eyes. "I've been in love with you for months and I think it's time I did something about it."

He gaped at her, his emotions in such upheaval that Hermione couldn't quite sort them out. There was happiness, true; but it was mixed up with fear, protectiveness, and guilt--Hermione wasn't certain exactly what he was feeling. She'd been expecting him to either rail at her or kiss her; she'd not been expecting this whirlwind of confusion.

Eventually able to close his gaping mouth, Severus opened it again to speak. "I'm terribly sorry, Hermione, but I cannot love you."

Whatever she had expected, it was not this. "You're lying!" she shouted. "I know you are! Why are you doing this? Why must you insist on being so bloody stubborn? You love me, I know you do!"

Eyes going even darker than their usual black, Severus strode up to her. Placing his hands on either side of her face he gripped her head so tightly it almost hurt. Staring fiercely into her eyes, Severus hissed, "I did not lie, you foolish little girl. I said I cannot love you, not I do not." Still holding her head in a vise-like grip, he tilted her face up further as his mouth descended on hers like a thunderstorm. There was nothing gentle about the kiss; Severus kissed her with the desperate hunger of a condemned man. Her every conscious thought was swept away by the onslaught as he plundered her mouth in a searing, bruising kiss. Arms twining about his waist of their own accord, Hermione returned the kiss with equal passion. Abandoning his grip in her hair, Severus wrapped his arms around the young witch, clutching her tightly to his chest as he continued to assault her mouth. When he felt her tremble in his arms and heard her whimper into his mouth, Severus at last came to his senses. He halted the kiss as quickly as he had begun it. Releasing Hermione abruptly, he fled to the window, his back to her, staring into the dark night.

Hearing her quiet step as she moved to follow him, Severus raised a hand to ward her off. "Stay where you are, Hermione, please. I must talk to you...I must explain...and I can't even think when you're touching me." His normally smooth voice was hesitant and trembling with emotion. Hermione was so taken aback by the sound of it that she obeyed him automatically.

"I should never have let things go so far--I placated myself by believing you felt nothing for me but friendship. I truly believed the only heart I was putting at risk was my own. Had I realized your...feelings...for me would progress so far, I would never have encouraged you."

"There is nothing you could have done to stop me from falling in love with you," Hermione said quietly. "You have hardly been encouraging, yet it made no difference."

Bowing his head, Severus wrapped his arms around his chest as if he felt cold. "Be that as it may, no matter our feelings, this can go no further."

"Why?" she snapped. "Why can't this go further if we feel the same? Is it because I'm still a student?"

Dropping his arms, Severus spun to face her. "For Merlin's sake, Hermione, Have you forgotten that I'm the head of Slytherin house?" he snarled back. "I couldn't be arsed about you being a student, but I am NOT going to get you killed!" Taking a long breath, Severus forced himself to calm down before continuing. "We are at war, Hermione, and I am a spy. While I am efficient at Occlumency, I am not infallible. I could explain our friendship as a ploy on my part to get more information on Potter. However, I can in no way explain how a supposed Death Eater decided to involve himself more...intimately with a Muggleborn witch. Don't you see, Hermione? All it would require is one slip on my part and we'd both be as good as dead."

Hermione had not considered the fact their love put his life in danger. Severus could have made no better argument to get her cooperation. "I would never do anything to put you at risk, Professor Snape," she said softly, forcing herself back into a more formal form of address. "You mean the world to me, sir, and I want to keep you safe. I will do my best to be patient until the war is over."

"Don't wait for me, Miss Granger." Severus said while looking at her with haunted eyes. "I am a spy after all; the chances of my surviving the war fall somewhere between slight and snowball's chance in hell."

"I refuse to believe that, sir."

"Believe it or not, it's the truth. Now, Miss Granger, Could I ask you to leave me in peace for the remainder of the day...I need to...I need..."

"It's all right, sir. I need some time to calm down as well." Approaching him, Hermione did not hug him this time; she simply rested a hand gently on his arm and looked at him with her heart in her eyes.

"Goodnight, sir," she murmured. "I will see you tomorrow."

Hermione had no way of knowing she would do no such thing.

The next day, Hermione was walking towards the Great Hall with Harry and Ron, on her way to dinner, when she heard a commotion behind her. Turning, she saw Turpin running at her full-tilt. The jarvey was crying piteously. Bending down, she scooped the upset creature into her arms.

"Turpin! Whatever is the matter?"

"Meeting..." the jarvey managed to spit out between whimpers. "He went to a meeting and he never came home. He's gone! He said you'd take care of me, vixen...stupid wanker's gone and got himself killed." Here Turpin stuck his head under Hermione's arm and they could get no more sense out of him.

"Harry," Hermione began, her voice trembling, "Go talk to Dumbledore, find out if he knows what is going on. I'm going to take Turpin back down to...Professor Snape's study and sit with him."

"You go ahead, Hermione." Harry said calmly. "We'll find out what we can and meet you there."