Conversations

"So," Severus began casually as he carefully uncorked the phial. "Talk."

She raised her eyebrows. "Talk."

"Yes, talk. Words. Conversation." His tone reminded her of Neville Longbottom, shaking with fear in the dungeons.

"Okay," she said hesitantly, but she remained silent, watching him avidly as he poured the liquid into a silver cauldron.

After several moments of silence, he looked up at her, his annoyance written plainly across his face. "Surely, Miss Granger, the years have not addled your brains so much so that you have forgotten how to hold a simple conversation."

She handed him a stirring rod and rolled her eyes. "I don't know what you want me to say."

He leaned close to the cauldron and sniffed delicately. "Tell me how you have been these last seven years."

"Oh. I've been... fine. I've managed just fine."

"Thank you for explaining yourself so fully, Miss Granger. As always, you have such a gift with words."

She sighed. "Do you really want to know how I have been?"

He didn't look up from the cauldron. "Well, I did ask. Would you like me to repeat the question?"

She grabbed a small, sharp knife and began cutting the ingredients he had laid out for her. "Really, Severus, I've been fine. Not great, but fine. I love my job. I work quite a bit, and I have very few friends. I admire my boss. I still miss Harry every day of my life, and I see Ron only occasionally. Usually holidays. That's it."

He ladled out the potion and brought it to the level of his eyes.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley. I assumed you two would have married by now."

"I don't know what ever gave you that idea. Ron and I fought so much that I sometimes imagine we were only friends because of Harry. I suppose that's why we don't see each other very much anymore. Harry's not around to keep the peace. Besides that, Ron's married with three children and another on the way."

"Indeed? And who is the lucky woman to have captured his heart? Anyone I should send my condolences to?"

"Really, Severus, childish petulance does not become you. And he married Luna. Luna Lovegood."

"That addled Ravenclaw? Perhaps I should send Mr. Weasley the condolences."

"Oh, shut it. They're a good match."

"I'm sure," he mumbled. "Hermione, hand me that book over there." He gestured to a pile of books sitting on her kitchen counter.

"Which one?"

"The big black one, you foolish girl. And hurry."

Grabbing the book hurriedly from the pile, Hermione became a bit worried when the book started growling at her. She glanced at the title. Dangerous Droughts and Evil Elixirs.

"Here."

"Thank you. I have to cross-reference something." He began flipping through the book and muttering under his breath.

"Severus? Can I ask you what you are doing?"

"No."

"Can I help at all?"

"Just finish chopping those ingredients. And for Merlin's sake, stop pulverizing the blood stone."

"I think I could be of some use, if you'll allow it. As I recall, my Potions scores were always top-notch."

"Well, as I recall, your scores were mediocre at best, and your potions were barely above average."

"That is not true, and you know it, Severus Snape. I was your best student, and it would just kill you to admit it, now wouldn't it?"

He glared at her. "Quiet, woman. I'm trying to work here."

Hermione glared back at him, allowing herself to feel a tiny surge of victory. She felt that she had somehow won that round.

And it didn't disturb her in the least how quickly she and Severus had settled back into their old routine of witty repartee and barbed insults.

"But seriously, Severus, I need to know what you are doing. Technically speaking, I am in charge here, and I need to report in to Solomon tonight. Tell him about our progress."

He tensed. "The man who bound us, yes?"

"Yes. He's my boss, as I believe I said before."

"I didn't like him."

Hermione snorted. "Well, I'm sure he didn't like you either."

"Is he married?" he asked nonchalantly while he poured a sample of the potion into a small Petri dish.

Hermione stopped chopping. "No, he's not. I believe he was married once before, but he never talks about it. I've always got the impression that something horrible happened to her."

"Interesting," he murmured as he added a drop of some clear liquid to the Petri dish.

"So? Tell me what you are doing, exactly."

He huffed. "Fine. If only so I can get you to shut up."

"You were the one who started this whole conversation, Severus. Can you please just tell me what you're doing?"

He flipped to a different page in the dark book and read quietly before answering her. "I am doing the same thing those dunderheads at the Ministry attempted to do, except I am going to succeed."

"You're trying to figure out what the potion is made of."

He nodded. "Potions are simply the sum of their parts, Miss Granger," he said in his best Snape lecture tone. "Once I identify each separate ingredient and characterize their possible reactions to each other, I can then discover why exactly this potion moves. And how it kills."

"Fascinating, I'm sure. But how are you doing it?"

"At the moment, I am not doing anything because of your incessant questioning, you annoying little harpy!"

Hermione smiled at the strange endearment. "I'm sorry. I'll let you alone after you tell me."

He let out a long-suffering sigh and closed his eyes. "I've already identified four ingredients...dragon's blood, moondust, gillyweed, and lacewing flies."

"How?"

"By smell, Miss Granger."

"Interesting. I only recognized the moondust and the blood."

"It is not my problem that your olfactory powers are substandard, Miss Granger."

"I do not have substandard olfactory powers!"

He smirked but said nothing. Really, he could irritate her to no end. Hermione was thoroughly enjoying herself.

"What else have you accomplished?"

"Breaking down the anatomy...so to speak...of a potion is not easy, Miss Granger. I've heated the potion in hopes that some of the ingredients will separate. All of the ingredients I've discovered so far are fairly innocuous, if somewhat expensive. What I'm really looking for at this point is the potion's base, Miss Granger. The most essential and powerful element. I've consulted some of my Dark texts to no avail. The bases of the Darkest potions consist of, oh, your intended victim's blood, for example. Or perhaps the innards of a slaughtered animal. A Dark potion, especially if it's intended to kill, is more potent if a violent act procured its base. Essentially, evil must be brewed into the potion. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded her head and shivered. Severus had never taught the art of making Dark potions at Hogwarts.

"However," he continued. "I am beginning to fear that this Angel of yours has created a new potion entirely. You are looking for someone with a high degree of intelligence, Miss Granger. If not a Potions master, than at least an apprentice. He has studied Potions extensively, and, it seems, he has an aptitude for the Dark Arts. I wonder where he was during the War...."

"Do you know anyone who could do this, Severus? Any of the Death Eaters, I mean. Or Voldemort's followers?"

He looked at her then, and his lips curved into a half-smile. "I believe you know my answer, Hermione. I could do this."

Hermione started. She had been enjoying their dialogue so much that she had almost forgotten who she was talking to.

Severus raised an eyebrow as he regarded her. "Close your mouth, Hermione. I assure you that I did not create this potion, nor did I kill those witches."

Though Hermione knew logically that he hadn't anything to do with the Angel case, she breathed a sigh of relief nevertheless.

"I knew that..."

She was interrupted mid-sentence by a loud, insistent knocking on her front door. Surprised, she abruptly stood up, knocking over an empty cauldron that clattered loudly on the floor.

Severus snorted.

"Are you going to answer that, Hermione? Or would you rather I take care of your pesky visitor?"

"No! I'll get it." She wanted as few people as possible to know that Severus was currently staying with her. If Ron found out, he would be furious.

She quickly made her way to the door and cracked it open.

"Grayson!"

"Granger!"

"What are you doing here?"

Her partner smiled, and Hermione couldn't help herself. Despite all of her solid resolutions to remain unaffected by the womanizing partner of hers, his smile got her every time.

"I missed you, Hermione. They've put me on background duty, and I'm going to kill myself. Or Solomon. Haven't quite decided yet."

"Ah, so you're following the paper trail."

"Until you get back, yes. Which reminds me. When are you getting back?"

"The Ministry gave us an allotment of two days before Severus will go back to Azkaban."

"So you'll be back on Friday then?"

"I should be. If all goes to plan."

"It better," he muttered darkly. "I find that I am completely lost without my brilliant, beautiful partner."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Like you haven't already tried that on me, Grayson."

He shrugged. "I keep hoping I'll get lucky."

She laughed. As if in response, she heard something smash in her kitchen.

Grayson jumped at the noise and tried to peer around her shoulder.

"Is he... Is he in there?"

"Yes."

"Can I come in?"

"You want to see him?" she asked incredulously. "Henry, grow up. He's just a man, not some... sideshow."

"Well, he kind of is." At her steadily darkening features, he quickly added, "He's Severus Snape. He killed nine people, Hermione. It's not everyday that you meet a person capable of that kind of... evil."

Later, Hermione would not really admit to herself why she'd agreed to let Henry in. Because truthfully, Hermione wanted to make Severus a bit jealous.

"Fine. But you can't stay long. And don't be rude!"

"Don't worry. My lunch break is almost up anyways."

Her stomach twisted unpleasantly as she led Grayson through to her makeshift laboratory. This was more than likely not the best plan she ever had.

"Severus. I would like you to meet someone."

He was stirring the black potion, now bubbling, with a long wooden ladle. Ignoring her words, he held out a hand.

"Hush. Don't interrupt me."

"Hmmm," Grayson whispered in her ear. "Not the politest of murdering psychopaths, now is he?"

Hermione stifled a giggle and waited for Severus to finish.

"Ah," Severus said. "Crushed silkstone. I should have known. Combined with the dragon's blood and the elderflower... Undoubtedly, the reaction would be volatile. I wonder how he achieved stabilisation?"

Grayson continued his observations. "He's also a bit daft, carrying on entire conversations with himself."

"Stop, Grayson. Just stop. He's brilliant, you know. And he's doing our job better than we could have done it." She tried unsuccessfully to prevent admiration from sneaking into her tone.

Severus finally set his ladle down on the table and turned to regard Hermione and her partner.

"You wanted me to meet someone, Miss Granger," he said coolly.

"Yes, yes, I did. I do, that is." She wiped her sweaty palms on the front of her robes, hoping that this little introduction went smoothly.

"This is my Investigations partner, Henry Grayson. Grayson, meet Severus Snape, my... old professor."

Smiling and holding his hand out in greeting, Grayson stepped confidently towards Severus.

"Snape. You look exactly how I always imagined."

In response, Severus crossed his arms and glared at Grayson's outstretched hand.

"Quite coincidentally, Mr. Grayson, so do you." Severus' voice was infused with cold steel, and Hermione felt a thrill of foreboding.

"Henry, I think you should leave..."

"Not yet, Hermione." Grayson dropped his hand. "What exactly do you mean by that, Snape?"

Severus sneered at him. "The patented wavy blond locks, the shit-faced grin, and the designer-imposter robes. Let me guess, Mr. Grayson. You fill your bed with a different woman every night, and you tell yourself you like it that way. When in reality, you are too afraid to commit to one woman because she would recognize you for what you really are...an empty suit who likes his women loose and his alcohol cheap. At work, you ride off the intelligence of others and take the credit for work you never thought of doing. And people put up with it because of your dashing smile and your good sense of humour. But behind it all, behind this cheap façade you have so meticulously crafted, you have nothing more than an empty apartment and a long list of women who don't even remember your name."

Hermione gasped. Grayson was positively fuming, and before she could really register what was happening, Grayson had pinned Severus to the wall. Henry had drawn his wand and was currently digging it into Severus' throat.

"You don't know me," Grayson growled.

"Oh, but I do, Mr. Grayson. I do."

"You murdering bastard, Snape! I should kill you right now."

Impossibly, Severus actually smiled, his dark eyes dancing with amusement. "Go ahead, Henry. Kill me."

Hermione shrieked and threw herself towards the two men. With a strength she didn't know she possessed, she managed to tear Grayson off of Severus, though the blond Auror still trained his wand on her erstwhile Potions professor.

"Henry? Henry, come on. It's time for you to go."

"I'm going to kill him, Hermione," he growled.

"No, you're not. Come on, let's go." She steadily backed him out of the kitchen, towards her front door. He never took his eyes or his wand off of Severus.

Once they were outside, Grayson turned to her with his eyes flashing.

"Granger! How can you stand working with him? That man belongs in Azkaban. Why hasn't he been Kissed? I am going to recommend that he be Kissed. I'll file a petition or something."

"Which would be ignored due to personal grievances, Henry. You know that Severus wasn't Kissed because he gave up several Death Eaters after the War."

"That man doesn't deserve to live, Hermione."

Hermione knew Severus' faults and his sins better than anyone, but she still felt a stab of anger at her partner for his quick dismissal of Severus' worth. Severus valued his own life so little that it pained her to see that the rest of the wizarding world likely agreed with him. Someone, she thought, should at least allow Severus the benefit of life. It was rather ironic that this burden fell on her, the one person whom he had hurt the most.

"Henry, you're just saying that because he insulted you, and you couldn't think of anything to say."

"Are you... are you siding with him, Hermione?"

"No. I'm just pointing out the facts. Now, it would be best if you left. Go back to work."

She turned to leave but stopped as Grayson grabbed her wrist in a loose grip.

"Wait," he said softly.

She turned around, curious. "What is it?"

Grayson swallowed heavily. "It's not true what he said... is it?"

Hermione's eyes widened in sympathy. "Oh, Henry. No, it's not true. Not completely true, anyways."

He looked down at the pavement beneath his feet. He laughed bitterly. "But it's mostly true."

Hermione didn't know what to say, and so she remained silent.

Finally, her partner looked at her.

"Hermione, would you please do me the honour of having dinner with me tonight? I'll take you somewhere special."

Again, Hermione didn't know what to say. He looked so sad, so forlorn, after what Severus had told him.

"Grayson, I have work to do. The autopsy is later this afternoon. I have to be there."

"The autopsy! Completely forgot. I doubt we'll find anything different from the other four."

Hermione shifted. "Are you going to be there?" she asked, her voice slightly amused. Henry avoided autopsies whenever he could. His last excuse had consisted of the mumbled words "my aunt" and "babysitting."

"Are you bringing Snape?" he finally asked.

"Of course. He'll most likely add insight into the crimes, Henry."

"Then I'll be there."

"Okay then," she said.

Henry smiled at her. "Well? Are you free afterwards? When's the last time you really took time off for yourself, huh? I promise you, it'll be fun."

She shifted uncertainly. "I don't know, Henry. I don't know."

"Come on. Just as friends, I swear. I know better than to try anything with you!"

She smiled. "Fine. But I can't stay too long."

He grinned back at her. "That's great."

"We'll talk about it later, okay?"

Grayson suddenly pulled her in for a hug, and he brought his lips quite close to her ear. "Thank you, Hermione. You mean... you mean the world to me. I hope you know that."

******

Hermione couldn't help but smile as she closed the door on her partner. Henry was a good guy who was perhaps, thanks to Severus, just now beginning to discover he had faults. She thought he would be a much better person for it. And she would enjoy dinner tonight.

Now, however, she had to deal with Severus. She entered the kitchen with trepidation.

"Severus?"

He was sitting on a chair, sipping from a large mug of tea.

"Yes?"

"Oh. Well, you stopped working."

"Hmmm," he murmured.

"Look," Hermione said, slightly exasperated. "I shouldn't have brought Henry in here. Clearly, I wasn't thinking."

He chuckled before taking another sip of tea. "Miss Granger. There is no need to apologize. I quite enjoyed meeting him. Do be sure to send him my regards."

Her brow furrowed in frustration. "There was no need to be mean, Severus. He never did anything to you. He... he's a good guy."

Severus raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"He is," Hermione insisted. "Actually, I'm going to dinner with him tonight. Hope you don't mind staying here alone for a few hours." Her stomach fluttered nervously, fearing his reaction. She knew that she shouldn't care what Severus thought. He was going back to Azkaban on Friday. Two days. And she was slightly annoyed with herself...despite seven years of resentment and misery, she apparently had absolutely no control over her thoughts and emotions where Severus was concerned.

"Dinner," he said, his voice low and steady. "I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself," he continued, though his lips curled into a smirk.

"I will. I plan on enjoying myself very much," Hermione countered, hoping to antagonize him into some sort of reaction. She watched him closely.

His eyes darkened, and Hermione felt a thrill of pleasure that sent shivers up and down her spine.

He turned from her and calmly set his teacup on the counter. With a slight frown, he slowly stood up and once again turned to face her, a predatory gleam upon his face, and Hermione forgot how to breathe. He brushed a strand of his dark hair from his face and started walking towards her. Hermione thought that he looked eerily like an animal hunting its prey. And she felt decidedly like the prey.

Gasping, she steadily backed up until she collided with the wall. Severus half-smiled at her then and continued his advance. Hermione's heart was pounding fast, and the tension between them was so strong and tangible she felt that she could reach out and touch it. He was but mere inches from her, and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to press her body against his and tangle her fingers in his hair. He smelled of smoke and tea and books. She was quite simply overwhelmed.

"Hermione," he whispered, and he placed his arms on either side of her, effectively pinning her against the wall. "It's been so long since I've had you this close. Much too long." He brought his lips to her cheek and caressed her skin lightly. His lips were dry.

"You smell good," she sighed into his hair.

"Mmmm," he muttered. Drawing back from her only slightly, he placed his right hand flat on her chest, trailing a lazy finger across her collarbone. His eyes glittered intensely, and Hermione did not have the willpower to stop him.

He dipped his fingers lower, caressing the swell of her breasts, and she gasped again.

"Now," he said softly as he nibbled at her ear. "Why is it you are leaving me tonight?"

"Ohhhh," she moaned when he gently cupped a breast and squeezed.

"I'm flattered, but that's not what I asked, Hermione." He took her nipple between two talented fingers and squeezed until pleasure blossomed into pain. Hermione was almost past the point of reason.

"Stay with me tonight, Hermione." And he pressed his body urgently against her, grinding his erection into her stomach. She whimpered.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, his voice rough and unsteady. "Because I will take you here and now, against your kitchen wall, so help me."

Hermione couldn't register the words he was saying.

His eyes gleamed as he slowly lowered his lips to hers, and she realized that he was going to kiss her. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. She could feel his breath hot on her face.

His breath on her face. Hermione groaned in frustration, placing a hand on his chest.

"Stop," she whispered. "Please stop."

His eyes darkened at her words, but he withdrew from her, scowling deeply.

"Sooner or later, Hermione, you are going to have to make a decision," he snapped.

She nodded, averting her eyes from his malevolent gaze. "I know... I just need time."

"You've had seven years."

She straightened her robes. "I know, Severus. It's just... I've thought one thing for so many years. I... I don't know what to do. Please believe me."

His features softened slightly, though he was still scowling. Hermione wondered how he could appear so foreboding and yet somehow still open.

"Hermione," he said, his voice strangled. "It was never my intention to hurt you."

"I know... I think that I've always known that."

He looked down at the floor. "I'll tell you if you ask, Hermione."

She brushed a strand of hair from her face.

"I know," she finally said quietly. "And I will. When we have more time. We need to work now. I have to Apparate to the department soon. For the autopsy."

He smirked at her. "Always the eager student, Miss Granger," he drawled affectionately.

She smiled softly in return. "Yes," she agreed.

Hermione could not say how, exactly, but she recognized a subtle shift in their relationship. A shift in the right direction, perhaps. A step forward, away from the past that had haunted her for so long.

******

A/N: As always, thanks to my beta, mgm86, and the admins at TPP. Special thanks to reets67 for her considerate offer and her hard work. And thanks to reviewers--I am blown away by some of your theories.