A Bit of a Dilemma

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

Big thanks as ever to my betas Septention and Sempra.

Hermione said a hurried goodnight to Gary in the Entrance Hall. Judging by the look of disappointment on his face, he'd been expecting something more, but Hermione hadn't even looked back. She had been right to suggest drinks in the Three Broomsticks, she thought wearily, stepping onto the spiral staircase. It had been an informal, not-quite-a-date, way of testing the waters to see if she wanted to take things further. And now, after a few hours in Gary's company, Hermione was absolutely sure that she did not. It had felt awkward: the conversation forced, stilted, and mostly about work.

Yawning, Hermione closed the door to her quarters and hung up her cloak. The evening had started off okay, but when they'd veered off the subject of reforming Slytherin house, it had soon became apparent that Gary's favourite topic of conversation was himself. Time had dragged by after that, and she'd found herself wondering what Severus was doing and wishing she was helping him instead. Then, as they were leaving, she'd casually mentioned the commissioning of Betty's new painting and noticed a flash of annoyance cross Gary's face. He'd hidden it well, but not quickly enough. What was that all about?

She kicked off her shoes and lit the fire. Rubbing her arms briskly in the welcoming glow, Hermione frowned in consternation, unable to shake the nagging suspicion she was being manipulated. Why was Gary opposed to reinstating Betty in a less offensive setting? Whatever the reason, Hermione's confidence in the man had suffered a blow. And she was normally such a good judge of character, too, but... had Gary's charm and flattering attention affected her objectivity? Hermione snorted in annoyance. Maybe Phineas...? No, she wasn't going down that road, but... from now on, she would be a lot more wary.

Later in her bedroom as she brushed out her hair, Hermione was still berating herself for being taken in by a pretty face. 'Stupid... stupid...'

'How did it go with Professor Burbage?'

Hermione jumped. 'It's late, Minerva, and I'm tired.'

'Not good, then, I take it.'

‘I don’t wish to discuss it.’

'Well,' Minerva pressed on regardless, 'if the object was to make Severus jealous, you've succeeded. He hit the whisky again.'

Hermione groaned. 'That's not why...' She walked over to the window and peered out. There didn't seem to be any lights on in Severus' apartments. 'Is he okay?'

'His elf put him to bed.' Minerva sighed. 'Hermione, I would generally advise you against mixing business with pleasure—'

'I know, I know. Spare me the lecture. It won't happen again.'

'I was about to say that Severus is different. He knows what it's like to be in your shoes. He understands, and he does care for you, but if you're expecting him to come crawling, you'll have a long wait.'

Hermione shook her head. 'I don't want him to crawl. I just want him to be sure it's me he wants. I want to be sure it's me he wants.'

'For Merlin's sake! What will it take...' Minerva counted to ten. 'Do you know how many headteachers have died in that bed, alone and unloved? And more importantly, do you want to be the next one?'

'No, I...' It wasn't something Hermione wanted to dwell on.

'Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, my girl. Hogwarts is your job. Not your life—and get some sleep. You look exhausted.'

Too tired to argue, Hermione was soon snuggled down in the bed where Severus had once slept, dreaming of knot-gardens, rosebuds and a man with the biggest trowel she'd ever seen.

~HGSS~

Approaching the Head Table for breakfast, Severus noted with no small satisfaction that Hermione, who had her nose stuck in the Prophet, was largely ignoring Burbage's attempts to draw her into a conversation.

A bowl of steaming porridge appeared as he slid into the seat on Hermione's left. Bile rose in his throat as the smell of food hit his nostrils.

'Morning, Severus,' said Hermione, putting her paper down.

Severus grunted a reply and picked up his spoon.

'You look a bit peaky. Are you not feeling well?'

'I'll survive.' His liver screamed in protest at such a rash pronouncement.

Despite a double dose of hangover potion, Severus was still feeling rather delicate. He tried to force down a spoonful of porridge.

'If you need help in the lab,' Hermione said, a bit too cheerily for his liking, 'I'm free this evening.'

Turning towards her, his prepared caustic remark froze on his tongue when he saw her concerned face.

He swallowed. 'Thank you, no. I need to go to London for supplies, and—'

'I'm having lunch with my parents,' Hermione interrupted. 'I can return via Diagon Alley, no problem.'

'I would... appreciate that.' Severus managed a weak smile. 'Thank you.'

~HGSS~

Later that evening, Hermione was beginning to regret her offer of help as she dissected the wings off yet another Chinese horned dung-beetle. 'This is just like being in detention,' she grumbled.

'You wanted to help.' He scanned his notes once more.

'This was what put me off Potions as a career, you know.' Hermione wrinkled her nose up in disgust as she ground the beetles to a paste in the mortar and pestle. 'At least with Arithmancy, all you get on your hands is ink.'

'Really?' He looked surprised. 'You hid your revulsion well in class, I must say.'

Hermione grinned. 'I saw how you treated the squeamish. I wasn't about to let that happen to me.'

'Are you sure you want to stay?' Severus smirked back. 'No doubt Professor Burbage could find you a more... pleasant task.'

'We-ell...' She pretended to consider it. 'On the whole, I think I'd rather be up to my elbows in beetle goo.'

'That bad, eh?'

Hermione didn't bother answering and carried on pounding. It was strange, really, but there was nothing awkward about the silence, no need to fill it with meaningless small-talk. She looked up to find Severus looming over her.

'Hair,' he murmured, tucking a stray lock behind her ear. 'You should know by now to tie it out of the way.' Severus hesitated a moment before cupping her cheek. 'Hermione...'

Her breath caught at the look of intense longing he gave her, and she wanted nothing more than to lean into his touch, however...

Gently, she peeled his hand away from her face but kept hold of it. 'Severus, if you were to cast your Patronus, what form would it take?'

His expression darkened abruptly, and he pulled away. 'Leave. There is no more to be done here tonight.'

'I disagree.'

Unperturbed, Hermione stepped towards him. 'So you know, I care about you. Very much.' She placed her palm on Severus' chest. 'If you ever find room for me in here, talk to me. I'm not going anywhere.' She stood up on tip-toe and kissed his cheek.

The Bloody Baron chose that moment to float through the wall. Glancing at the scene, he moved quickly across the room and disappeared up the chimney.

'Has he mentioned the key?'

'No,' Severus replied, touching his cheek. 'But I expect news of our... liaison will be all around the castle by morning.'