Chapter Fifteen & Epilogue

The end of Winter brought with it a renewed vigor in Severus's relationship with Draco. One evening after dinner, after they had been meeting regularly for several weeks, Draco asked him why they had drifted apart. Severus hardly knew how to answer that without giving anything away, so he shrugged and refilled both of their glasses.

"You know," Draco admitted, "I did have a thing with Professor Granger."

"A thing?" Severus repeated.

"Yeah, it was quick, childish..." He shrugged. "I think we'll be fine now, though."

"What's changed?" he asked. "A month ago you two never spoke."

Draco got a serene smile on his face. One, Severus regrettably realized, that was not unlike the serene look he was overcome with as he came. "I don't know. Maybe we've just given up."

"So, how is your father?" Severus inquired, changing the subject.

"Fine," Draco responded. "Having some issues with Camille but that's hardly my concern." The boy had a knack for acting nonchalant.

"I enjoyed Camille very much. I do hope they work it out."

Draco scowled. Oh, there were so many secrets. They reclined into their chairs in silence, each man lost in his own thoughts.

"Well I'm off," Draco said abruptly, standing from his chair.

They shook hands and Snape watched him go, bewilderment in his eyes.

The following afternoon, he was roused from work on a potion by several light raps on his door. He called out an invitation to enter, and Professor Sprout was instantly leaning against the doorframe, looking dirt-smudged and outdoorsy as usual. He put a quick stasis charm on his potion and faced her, hands on his hips.

"I think you'll want to see your Chamomile plant," she grinned. "It's miraculous, actually."

He acquiesced, mostly because of his soft spot for his ingredient supplier and occasional confidante. They strolled out of the castle together, and he asked about some other crops he had a stake in. She explained that the greenhouses were doing quite well, but her hybrid tomatoes were being infested by a fly. He offered to brew her some pesticide and she responded that that would be lovely.

The day was warmer than it should have been. The sunlight was waning to the west and the forest took on a misty, enchanted glow. He inhaled the fragrant air and it brought him peace. They made their way down to the greenhouse furthest from the castle, and her hand stilled on the key as it entered the lock.

"What?"

"This was locked when I left," she said, confused. "Either I'm getting old or those randy little seventh years are in here again."

Severus laughed. "Have you caught them?"

"No," she scowled. "I only come back to find my pots moved, my windows steamed up, the floor in a disarray of pulled weeds..."

"How revolting," he said delicately.

The entered the room though, and sure enough, the greenhouse walls were fogged up in several places. Severus drew a finger through the sweat, then wiped it on his robes, sickened. And then they rounded a corner and his sickness turned to stomach-turning, heart attack-inducing shock.

He stilled, seeing Hermione in the embrace of none other than his godson. They were both barely clothed and her legs were wrapped around his hips. Hermione's eyes opened a fraction and when they landed on Severus, she let out a scream. He stood rooted to the spot, staring blankly ahead. Sprout's watering can clattered to the ground as she saw what had been happening.

And then Hermione was pulling on her clothes and Draco was sheepishly smoothing back his hair. He clearly didn't understand the scope of what had just happened, but Hermione was trembling violently, intently avoiding eye contact as she buttoned her blouse. Severus didn't care particularly what she was doing. He only stared blankly ahead, still rooted to the spot.

Sprout let out a stream of foul words, shaking her finger at them and telling them about the honor they had to uphold. Hermione's eyes sought Severus's, but he didn't give her any mercy. He stood looking at where she had just been, with his mouth in a tight line. He didn't move until Sprout was shaking him, and the two other professors were fully clothed.

In another dimension, where people could still speak and feel, Sprout was telling him that they needed to go to the Headmistress. Immediately. They were, as she recounted at least three times, under contract to report the lewd behavior. So their mismatched party began to make their way up the path Professor Granger had taken after their exchange over chamomile months ago. He followed Pomona up the stairs, noticing with an odd lightness the place where he had once wantonly kissed Professor Granger's neck, only fifteen minutes after the students' curfew had passed.

They all made their way up the spiral staircase to the Headmistress's office and Severus felt his feet root heavily to his stair as he wished with all his might for the counsel Dumbledore might have been able to offer him. But when he opened his eyes from a painfully generous blink, he saw that he was still in another world...the world where Hermione's confession of love was shite dripping off of his shoes.

Sprout pulled Draco by the ear into the Headmistress's office, as though he were still a boy rather than a man...a man who should have been able to make wise decisions. McGonagall stood and removed her reading glasses, her gaze finally landing on Severus. She asked him what happened, but he was still unable to answer, simply averting his eyes and shaking his head. So Pomona happily took the initiative and told the Headmistress what they had seen. There was a breath in which his eyes wandered to Hermione's. She expected pity from him, but he simply pursed his lips and raised a cruel eyebrow.

"Certainly you would agree, Headmistress," he began when he regained his voice, "That it is quite unseemly for two professors of this institution to be running around campus like randy little teenagers, and defacing school property, no less."

"Yes, Headmistress," Pomona said, the crossing of her arms accompanied by the jingling of heavy keys. "A few of my pots were destroyed."

"What on earth were you thinking, Hermione?" The fury in the woman's voice burned through even Severus's icy mask. "We clearly know what you were thinking, Malfoy."

"Headmistress," Professor Granger began, but she was silenced by Minerva's quavering hand.

"According to school policy, Professor Snape will have twenty-four hours to consider submitting his visual memory for review by the school board."

"What about me?" Pomona asked, not wanting to be left out.

"As you told me, Severus was the only one who saw anything." She was suddenly weary, rubbing her temples. "You will testify at the board meeting."

She looked appeased. They were dismissed and Severus practically flew out of the room, eager to get back to brewing his potion.

"Severus!" Professor Granger's hoarse cry ripped through the air as she chased after him. "Severus, please! Wait!"

He wheeled around to face her, standing so close that he towered over her, looking down with unbridled vehemence into her shining eyes. "Professor Granger, you are a teacher. I must request that you control yourself in public."

And then he left. He was walking past the Great Hall when he ran into a group of boys getting ready to set off a Weasley firecracker. They were in Gryffindor, so he deducted thirty points from each of them. He didn't have the energy to smirk, so he merely turned around and started down the corridor to the dungeons.

"What is he on about?" he heard one of them say.

Without even turning around, he called out, "an additional ten points from Gryffindor for testing my patience, Mister Gregory."

He heard the boy kick something before he rounded a corner. He was in a cold part of the castle, reveling in the absence of anything that resembled joy. He gave the word at the painting that guarded his quarters and fell back onto his bed. He slept: a dreamless, black sleep.

He was awakened by knocking at his door. Always the knocking, he grumbled. He stood and discovered he had a pounding headache. Maybe it was all a dream, he mused. I have the oddest dreams after I drink too much. Or maybe I inhaled some excess fumes from that potion. He moved to the door, almost half-convincing himself that it was Pomona, come to show him his chamomile plant.

He opened the door wide, and instead of seeing the friendly features of his old friend, his eyes fell on the wretched sight of Professor Granger. Her face was red and puffy, and her eyes were watery.

"Severus, may I speak with you?" she asked, fiddling with a handkerchief she had balled up in her fist.

"I don't remember authorizing you to be on such familiar terms with me, Professor Granger," he stated bluntly.

"May I come in, Professor?" Her voice cracked over his title as her breath shook.

"You have a lot of pluck to come down here," he said as he strolled back to his desk, leaving the door open. He sunk into his chair looking everywhere in the room but at her. She began to plead her case.

"Look," she began, wringing her hands, "I know what I did was wrong. I know that I shouldn't have led you on for as long as I have... Oh, won't you just look at me?"

And that was when he took the leverage and gave her a piercing stare straight in the eye. "Does your word mean nothing to you?" he asked quietly, carefully, giving off the impression for that moment that he wasn't blindingly angry. He held her gaze as she responded.

"My... word?" She looked utterly confused. Oh, you twit.

"Yes, Professor," he said with a smirk. "Well, you probably won't keep that title much longer..."

"Severus!" He lost control at the sound of his given name, and all the pain rushed into him at once...Draco's hands tangled in her hair, weeks and weeks of lies. He stood up, breathing heavily.

"How many times do I have to ask you to have some respect?" he roared, pushing everything on his desk off of it. "You led me on for weeks without a single word." He accentuated this by hurling a beaker full of acid against the wall, satisfied with the way she gasped in terror as the substance bubbled against the stone. "You have made me lose control of everything I've worked to be." He kicked his desk hard, in such a rage that he didn't feel the pain in his foot. She jumped back in her chair, hardly daring to look at him. "And now you ask me for forgiveness? Ha!" The laugh was bitter and sudden, mirthless and freezing.

"I..." she began, trembling.

"You what?"

"I think you might want to hear me out, Professor," she said, trying to look strong. He crossed his arms and waited. She took a breath. "Draco and I have been seeing each other since before Valentine's Day."

"What?" he asked, looking over at his shoulder at the calendar to verify that they were, indeed, approaching the spring equinox.

"I always thought it was a one-time thing and I never thought to tell you."

"You never thought," he repeated quietly. "That's the problem with you, Professor. You never think." He sunk back into his chair. "Clearly, book knowledge does not constitute common sense."

"I was really confused," she said tearfully, her chest heaving like she was three years old. "I didn't know what to think. And then Draco said he loved me, that he was really serious this time."

"When did he say that?" Severus asked, realizing the weight he suddenly could dump on her.

"Day before Valentine's Day," she said, a little, proud smile coming over her face. "He said he decided that he could be monogamous with me. So I decided to see what would happen. Then it just kept lasting, so I didn't know how to tell you. It just snowballed ahead of me."

"Would you like to hear a bit of trivia, Miss Granger?" he asked delicately. She looked at him incredulously, as though he might have just asked her if he could have a bite of her hand. At her silence, he refused to balk. So he plowed ahead, a sinister grin playing across his lips. "On the evening of February the fourteenth, as it happens, I was strolling through the hallway and I heard some odd rustling coming from a classroom not far from the staff room where our little party was held." She looked on in sickened intrigue. His tone remained light, but his eyes were stony and cruel, fixed on every twitch that played across her face. "And I happened upon a couple getting quite friendly with each other. You can imagine my surprise when I saw that Draco was, ahem, having his way with none other than his father's mistress, Camille. Delightful woman, don't you think?" He adored nothing more than the pain he saw in her eyes. Revel in it, girl. I haven't even shown you the end yet.

"Camille?" she asked.

"Surely you remember her?" Severus said, tapping his fingers on the desk, "Particularly vivacious, friendly French girl."

"Yes," she said, looking down at her lap. There was a moment of silence in which he felt a twinge of guilt. But he swatted it away, not unlike a mosquito.

"Well," she said, having lost all her momentum. "I just came to ask you not to submit your memory tomorrow. I just want to be a good teacher, Professor. I think I can be a good teacher."

"I find it utterly delightful that you think you can demand a favor from me."

"Well, not demand..."

"I've been given twenty-four hours to weigh my decision. If the scales lean in your favor..." He trailed off.

She looked at him hopefully.

"Well, to be perfectly honest, your future is looking dismal from here," he said, slightly snide.

She looked crestfallen when she finally had the grace to shuffle out and leave him in peace. But that was her problem now. Well, hers and that of her little blond boyfriend.

~

It was a covert, low publicity hearing held in the Headmistress's office. Snape was called in before the lovers were. The Headmistress's desk had been transfigured into a long table for the panel to sit at. Minerva was in the middle. Severus recognized the rest as prominent parents in the Wizarding community. There was also one teacher, Professor Sinistra. Severus wondered who she would side with...whether her propriety or passion would win in the end.

He took a seat before them, folding his arms over his chest. Minerva opened the floor.

"Now, this is nasty business we have to attend to today. But do not let the filthiness of the content put you in a rush. We have to handle this matter with the lawfulness and patience that befits our level of responsibility." With the speech out of the way, she turned her stoic gaze on Severus. "Now, Professor Snape's memory could close this case quickly and efficiently, because, under the school legislature, we truly only need his evidence and another testimony if he plans to surrender his thoughts into the Pensieve. But if that fails, we do have an eager testifier awaiting my call." There was an uneasy snicker as their minds turned to Pomona, waiting impatiently to explain how she had been wronged.

"So, Severus," she began coldly. "Have you decided to make this process easier on all of us?"

He took a breath.

"I have, Headmistress." He promptly walked forward and pulled the memory out of his temple, feeling a soothing cool break through the sweat that had gathered there.

He waited for McGonagall to play it, but first she called the two young Professors into the room. The blonde one's head hung as he stared at his shoes. They sat beside each other, but, surprisingly, Professor Granger stared straight ahead. She was collected and cool, a total transformation from the whimpering basket case that had been in Severus's office just the previous day. The face she had on was not unlike the expression she had been wearing when she went in for her OWL exams.

"Do either of you have anything to say before we survey Professor Snape's memory?" Minerva asked.

"I do, Headmistress." Professor Granger said. This ought to be good. Severus thought, glancing over at her.

"Go right ahead," she permitted.

"I have done something terrible. I've shamed the school and my reputation. But this doesn't have to be a witch burning, does it?" The panel looked about at each other questioningly. Even Severus furrowed his eyebrows. "I just want to ask of you that whatever scrap of dignity I have may remain intact."

"Continue, Professor."

"You certainly don't have to acquiesce, but my request is that you permit me to finish out the semester for the sake of my students and then resign without making a scandal. I think we can all agree that Hogwarts has tolerated quite enough bad publicity in the past." The paintings about the walls nodded in approval. Even Draco looked up from his lap in wonder at her quick thinking.

"That sounds perfectly reasonable to me, Professor," the Headmistress said as the panel nodded with her. "But what of Professor Malfoy?"

"I suppose to stave off the press, he could do the same." Ah hah, Severus thought smugly, a loophole in your brilliant little plan.

"You expect me to let you two remain in the same castle after all this?" she asked, aghast.

"Well, I have to admit that during the past twenty-four hours I've really only considered how to get myself out of this pickle. I assumed Professor Malfoy might be able to take care of himself." No one missed the bite in her remark.

"I suppose, then," Minerva began with a secretive smile to her fellow Gryffindor. "I suppose that Mister Malfoy will have to wait out the panel's decision." The change in title for Malfoy heavily foreshadowed what the decision regarding his future would be.

There was a moment in which they all gauged whether she was showing reason or favoritism. Reason won out.

"You are dismissed, Professor Granger." Then the girl bounced out with a huge grin plastered across her face.

~*~

The school year came to a close and Professor Granger took her leave with the students. Severus spent his last June afternoon at Hogwarts cleaning up his classroom upstairs. He put all the Defense textbooks back on the shelves and cleaned all the wooden surfaces by hand. He was blissfully calm ever since the tumultuous beginning of Spring. He and Professor Granger had maintained a cold silence. But, thankfully, he stayed on relatively good terms with his godson. After he vacated his job mid-year, Severus took over smoothly. The students were told that Professor Malfoy had gone away due to a health condition. The girls were visibly dismayed, but the boys couldn't have been happier. And no one was any bit the wiser than the others that their professor had actually been driven out by an embarrassing scandal.

Severus was planning on visiting the Malfoys in the French countryside, where the tension between Camille and the Malfoy junior would undoubtedly be so palpable that Severus might not even notice his allergies. This contented him somewhat. But before leaving he had one last bit of business to attend to. He cleaned every last corner of his classroom and had all his things packed up safely before embarking on his last errand of the school year.

He nearly bumped into Professor Slughorn on his way up the stairs, for he was so involved in rehearsing what he would say that he was hardly aware of his surroundings. The blunder was fixed with a quick apology and Severus was on his way again, muttering under his breath until he approached the gargoyles and spiral staircase that led into the Headmistress's office.

He knocked thrice and heard a call to enter. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Minerva sat at her desk. She smiled when he came in. She relaxed against her high-backed armchair and gestured for him to sit across from her.

"How are you, Severus?" she asked. "Glad the year's over?"

"More than you realize, Minerva," he said.

"Something leads me to believe this is not a social call," she said, smirking a little.

"Yes, well," he said, thinking over his rehearsed speech. "I've come to ask you a favor of sorts."

"Go right ahead, Professor," she invited, concern working its way into the corners of her sagging eyes.

"After the year's excitement, I've been under a lot of stress. I've served this school for a long time. And I think it's time..." He paused. Did it always sound so abrupt? "I think my time has come to resign."

She gave him a faint smile, not seeming the least bit fazed. "I saw this coming, Severus. It was a hard year for you. I know that the little issue between Professor Granger and Mister Malfoy troubled you."

"Well it was hardly that..."

"Oh, don't lie to me, Severus," she said abruptly. "I'm old. I've seen infatuation a thousand times over. You and Professor Granger had something of a rapport. If you had had a little more time you two could have had a real relationship. I saw your cunning when you looked at her."

"I..." he stammered, bewildered.

"Don't look so shocked, for God's sake," Minerva said, laughing rather than sounding stern. "I was actually hoping you two would end up together. It's really too bad that nothing happened."

He chose that moment to look down at his lap. She interpreted his silence to be bashfulness and that suited him just fine.

"I hear it's not too late, you know," she said. "And after your resignation, you're a free man. You can do whatever you please."

He looked up from his lap with a faint smile. Her suggestion didn't surprise him, though, for he had already made up his mind on the matter.

Epilogue

Years after his peaceful resignation from Hogwarts, Severus Snape hardly noticed the change of semesters anymore. In fact, on that crisp September morning, he only noticed with slight nostalgia that it was the start of term. He had received a letter from his godson and his godson's delightful wife telling him that it was Scorpius's first day. If it had not been for Draco and Camille's letter, he might not have noticed that September had come. He was so secluded out in his lake house.

He strolled out onto the deck with a cup of tea in one hand and his cane in the other. He noted with some surprise that he hadn't really left the lake for a few weeks. He was so content in the place where his old mentor had once lived out his summers. He found an inner peace that everyone noticed, especially his doctor. The cane was mostly precautionary at that point. And, happily, he was down to taking two potions a night for his joints and heart. Life was serene and easy as he spent his days working on a spell and potion book including all his originals and variations.

He hardly ever had visitors, so when he heard a tapping on the door that evening, he assumed it was another pesky woodland animal. But he walked across the room anyway to be sure, since he was feeling particularly lonely that night. He opened the door, not really expecting anyone, so when he saw the face of a woman he hadn't spoken to in about fifteen years, his cane clattered to the floor and he had to grab hold of the door frame to keep himself from falling with it.

"Hello, Professor," she said.

"Hello, Miss Granger."

He leaned down to snatch his cane off of the floor.

"Well," she said once he had assumed his full height. "I'm actually Mrs. Weasley now."

"Oh," he said. "My mistake."

"So are you going to invite me in?" she asked, tucking a stray bit of hair into her loose bun.

He gave a noncommittal half-smile and then nodded. "Won't you come in?"

She laughed and stepped past him. She tilted her head back, casting her eyes into the rafters. He noted that she looked incredible for a mother of two. Her body looked almost the same as the days when she had worked at Hogwarts so, so long ago. She paced the open room, over the rug in front of the sofa, and then into the kitchen and around the dining table. It was all located in a large room, which was usually abundant in sunlight. But in the waning hours of the day, everything was bathed in a surreal shade of pink.

She apparently had finished her examination, for she turned to face him expectantly. He suggested that they sit, and she sunk into his favorite section of the sofa. He leaned his cane against the coffee table, feeling positively ancient as he lowered himself into a rocking chair. She waited happily, seeming not even to notice his wince.

"It's so beautiful here," she commented, smiling. She didn't seem to feel the least bit awkward.

"It is," he agreed redundantly, still a little disconcerted by her presence. "I apologize if I seem a little blunt here, but I'm not quite connecting the dots."

"Pardon?"

"I mean, we haven't spoken in a decade and a half, and here you are at my door, commenting on my living arrangements."

She laughed and put her forehead in her hands. "This must seem so odd." She peered up at him through her fingers before laughing at herself and leaning back against the sofa.

"A little out of place, yes," he smiled.

"I was at Platform Nine and Three Quarters today," she admitted, as though this might explain everything. When it clearly didn't suffice, she continued. "I was thinking about you. I mean, it was totally out of the blue. And it just felt wrong that I haven't spoken to you in so many years."

"Well it's understandable that we haven't spoken," he said quietly, casting his gaze onto the floor.

"Yes," she pressed on, "about that."

"What about it?" he wondered, meeting her gaze again.

"I never really got to explain myself."

"Well there wasn't much to explain." A coldness settled over him; a defense mechanism he hadn't needed in years.

"I was so all over the place then. I was so confused. I was so afraid, so self-conscious. I think maybe I got involved with Draco..."

"Please," he interrupted, holding up a hand to stop her. "I don't need to..."

"Yes you do!" she said. "When I told you I loved you, I meant it. I did, deeply. I was so scared of it that I had to run to Draco. But then I loved him too. Not because he loved me, but because of the things he said, the way he made me feel. I guess I couldn't separate the real thing from whatever it was I felt for Draco." She took a steadying breath. "I'm not going to say it was the past so none of it matters. It matters in a distant sort of way. I married Ron and we are so happy. We have two beautiful children. We have a happy home. But on our wedding night, all I could think about was that it wasn't you."

She stopped, looking shocked at her own words.

"How much did you practice that?" he asked, a little mockingly.

"Not enough, clearly," she laughed. He laughed with her and all the tension was released. They were just two people again.

"Does your husband know where you are?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, pressing her palms to her eyes to blot away the quivering tears the laughter and shock had drawn out of her.

"Well, then it wouldn't do for me to kiss you," he joked with a grin. She laughed a little, then sniffled.

They both stood, both in a kind of silent agreement. He enveloped her in a hug. She rested her head on his chest and he kissed the top of her head, rubbing her back a little bit with a flat, friendly hand.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, so quietly he hardly caught it.

"I know," he said, wiping a tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb, "I know you are."

-fin-

A Note To My Dedicated Readers: I love each and every one of you and thank you so much for sticking with this little story. I have definitely heard an earful about how disappointing this ending is, and I want to sincerely apologize for how let down all of you are. To make it up to you I am now working on another Severus/Hermione story that is in a lot of ways a huge departure from my comfort zone (in a very exciting way, I think!). It's called "To Be Or Not To Be" and I hope you can expect its validation within the next few weeks!

-_Levicorpus_