A Room with a View

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Many thanks to Sempra for her prompt betaing.

His "patch", Severus discovered, was the only place where he could get any peace. The house-elves couldn't get to it, mercifully—no doubt he would now have a garden to rival that of ancient Babylon had they been able to gain access. Grunting, he plunged the fork into the ground, then stopped momentarily to roll up his shirt-sleeves. The weather was unseasonably warm, and with hardly any wind in the courtyard, Severus was starting to sweat with the physical exertion of digging over the soil in preparation for planting.

High above, two pairs of eyes watched his endeavours with interest.

'Severus seems to be settling in well,' Minerva said.

'Hmm?' Hermione tore her eyes away from the figure toiling in the courtyard below. 'Oh, yes. Yes, he is, but...' Hermione sighed. 'He's nothing like the man I remember—it's like all the fight has been knocked out of him.'

Minerva shrugged. 'Age does that to you, and... Well, have you considered the fact he no longer has anything to fight for?'

'True enough.' Hermione looked out of the window again. 'His teaching hasn't been affected, though, and the Slytherins look up to him like he's some sort of minor deity...'

Despite his initial enthusiasm, the minor deity in question was thinking that this gardening lark was back-breaking work and regretting his decision not to employ magic. But Severus also knew that the best quality potions ingredients were grown naturally and that he would eventually reap the benefits of his labours.

At the sound of fluttering wings, Severus spun around to see a raven settling on a clod of earth. 'You again. I'm not doing this for your benefit, you know.’ Picking up an earthworm, he tossed it towards him. 'Catch.' The bird cawed and took off with his free meal.

Minerva moved to the edge of her frame. 'Judging by the way you're chewing your lip, I take it that Severus' new-found divinity is a problem.'

'Slytherin's Head of House seems to think so.'

Minerva sighed. 'Professor Burbage.'

'Yes, Professor Burbage.' Hermione turned as Purdy popped in with her morning cuppa. 'He's complaining because the kids keep going to Severus with their problems and not him. Thank you, Purdy.'

'Severus?'

Hermione blushed. 'And another thing,' she added quickly. 'How come that raven can get into the garden when I can't?'

'That's obvious,' said Dumbledore. 'Founders’ magic. It has to be.'

Purdy's ears were flapping as she poured the tea.

'So-oo, how long has it been Severus?' Minerva asked, smirking.

'Oh,' Hermione waved her had airily, 'since I've been helping him with some Arithmancy calculations—and what do you mean by "Founders’ Magic", Albus?'

Dumbledore coughed. 'Hogwarts was the culmination of a long-held dream: four lifetimes worth of ambition, energy—not to mention magic—poured into the creation of a school. That energy still lingers, which is why the castle appears sentient on occasion.'

'But that still doesn't explain...' Hermione frowned. 'Why have you never mentioned this before?'

'You never asked.'

Resolving to look into the matter further as soon as she could find a spare moment, Hermione picked her mug up and returned to the window. Purdy followed.

Watching Severus struggling to break up the hard earth, Purdy shook her head, clearly perturbed. 'Headmaster Snape is not letting elves help.'

'I'm sure he finds it therapeutic.' She smiled at the elf, who didn't look in the least bit convinced. 'Sometimes, Purdy, creating something with your hands, without using magic, gives you more of a sense of achieve—’ She froze, mug poised at her lips, as Severus began unbuttoning his shirt.

Mouth slightly agape, Hermione stared as Severus pulled his shirt out of his trousers and slipped it off. She was treated to the sight of strong, sinewy muscles and a long, pale back ending at a pair of trousers that looked set to lose its battle with gravity at any minute.

Purdy looked up at the Headmistress, down to Severus and back to Hermione again.

Hermione rubbed the back of her neck as the hairs there started to prickle.

Severus carried on digging.

Hermione took a large gulp of tea.

With a broad grin on her face, Purdy disappeared abruptly.

Licking her lips, Hermione watched mesmerised as Severus paused to wipe his brow, conjure a glass of water and thirstily drink it down.

Someone coughed behind her.

'When you've finished ogling the arse of our illustrious former headmaster, I have something I would like to discuss with you.'

Caught red-handed, Hermione flushed. 'What is it, Phineas?'

'It's about that Mu-uggle-born you've put in charge of my house.'

Hermione sighed. 'We've had this conversation before. I know you don't like it—'

'Not that,' Phineas interrupted impatiently. 'I can't get into the common room. He's removed the portrait of Betty the Bloodthirsty.'

Hermione rubbed her temple, feeling the beginnings of a headache. 'I’m sure Professor Burbage has good reason—’

'According to Betty,' Phineas interrupted again, 'who, incidentally, is now residing in a broom cupboard, it was for “restoration".'

'There you are, then.'

'Since when has a magical portrait needed "restoration"!' he spat. 'He's up to something. I don't like him, and I don't trust him.'

'I know; you've told me countless times.’ Hermione sighed. 'But he's doing a good job—'

'Tell you what...' Phineas twiddled with the ring on his finger. 'Ask him about Betty, and I'll tell you about the Raven.'

Purdy returned to the kitchens, an idea forming in her head. She knew it wasn't an elf's place to interfere in a wizard’s personal life, but Headmaster Snape was dear to her. They shared a bond, even though he was unaware of it. And he'd made his feelings clear thanks to the Vinoveritas she'd given him... And what Headmaster Snape wanted...

Mind made up, Purdy grabbed a rolling pin and banged it on the nearest table. The usual chattering ceased as the elves looked to her expectantly. 'Purdy has good news.' She beamed happily. 'Headmistress Granger is fancying Headmaster Snape!'

A/N: Big hugs to the lovely, and very talented, Camillo, for the drawing.