Multum In Parvo

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything recognizable to the HP-Universe, JK Rowling does. I'm not making any money off the writing of this fanfic.

Severus was gracefully lounging on his armchair reading when Hermione silently peered through the jailer's slot. She held off Mulciber for the moment, intrigued by the novelty of silently observing the enigmatic man. In some way, it was a strange retribution for the many times he had silently stalked her in the halls. A thin, wry smile was playing at the corner of his lips, and Hermione itched to know which book had him captivated.

"Prisoner 11652, present yourself!" Mulciber yelled.

"Oh, bloody hell!"

Severus scrambled to find a scrap of parchment to mark his page; he was too much of a bibliophile to ever consider dog-earring the pages. Scowl firmly affixed in place, Severus stood and held his arms out wide to show he wasn't carrying anything dangerous.

The heavy door swung inward as his wife stepped through, causing his chest to seize up. Hermione looked as casual as always, dirty trainers, trendy indigo jeans, and a snug t-shirt loudly proclaiming her to be Mugglicious, but her glossy brown hair hung in perfect doll-like corkscrew curls. Well, that was one mystery solved.

"Mrs. Granger, I thought you didn't use your hair products."

"I don't usually," she replied flippantly. "Meeting with the distributors. Rat bastards."

"Indeed?"

"You don't want to know."

Truth be told, she spent way too many hours fighting them. They provided no other service but to move her product to the market, took a way bigger share of the profits than they should, and were forever giving her a migraine between her eyebrows that she just couldn't shake. But then there was nothing for it; it was the 'cost of doing business.' She'd take on the task of doing it all herself, but then there was only so much of her to go around, and she was already stretched thin enough.

"No, I suppose I do not." Was he really trying to make polite conversation with the girl? It wasn't possible that he was actually interested in her day.

Hermione held out another white box for him, no doubt loaded with more loot he wasn't certain he wanted. "Here, some things I forgot. And I wasn't sure if you liked milk chocolate, dark chocolate, or white chocolate, so I got them all. Though you strike me as the dark chocolate type."

"I am," he interjected. Hermione was wringing her hands, obviously nervous to see him again. "Thank you, you didn't have to... what I mean is... I appreciate your thoughtfulness."

"Even though you haven't unpacked your other items?" she said pointing at the stacked white boxes peeking out from under his cot.

Severus arched an eyebrow. Was the girl really picking a fight after he had unnecessarily thanked her? "And just where do you suggest I unpack them to?" he remarked in his coldest voice, "The lounge? The study? My opulent bathroom perhaps?"

Hermione closed her eyes, berating herself for not thinking clearly. "You're right of course. I haven't thought this through as properly as I thought I had. I've been a bit distracted lately. I'm sorry."

She chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip; she needed to find an item with enough matter to Transfigure it into shelving, but nothing that he'd miss. Hermione spied the smoothed down pile of red tissue paper. There was probably just enough to get three shelves, at least until she could bring something more substantial. Carefully aiming her wand, Hermione poured her concentration into its construction.

It took several minutes, and the finished product wasn't as impressive as she would have liked. A more solid substance would have provided the raw matter necessary for a proper Transfiguration, but for the moment, the slightly rickety white bookshelf was adequate. That, and it fit against the wall at his bedside.

"Will that do for now?" she asked, looking to him for approval.

Severus nodded and was briefly rewarded with a dazzling smile. My gods, this girl is emotionally starved, he thought to himself.

"So... you found everything all right then. Did the robes fit? I wasn't too certain of your measurements; I can take them back if it's necessary." Hermione couldn't hide the disappointment in her voice that he was still dressed in his drab prison gray robes, or that he still looked vaguely like a pirate. A slightly cleaner pirate, who smelled faintly of herbal soap, but the beard and wild hair were still a bit disconcerting.

"They are. I simply don't wish to dirty them," Severus gestured to his filthy cot and rotting mattress.

Hermione immediately took the unsubtle hint, and with a careful swishes and flicks treated the offending piece of furniture to a barrage of industrial cleaning spells. "This will also have to do for now. I'll bring you something more permanent next time. I really must apologize; I'm not usually this absent minded. I should have thought, I just don't know what's wrong with me. I don't mean to insinuate that I'm not taking my obligations seriously. I am, I truly am. It's just sometimes it's like I forget to think past the details I wrap myself up in and ..."

"Hermione," Severus softly interrupted. She was babbling again. "You haven't been sleeping have you?"

She turned to him with damp, frightened eyes. "I'm fine, really. I'm just a bit behind."

Severus sat on the cleaned mattress and gestured for her to take his armchair. He watched with a slightly amused expression as she collapsed into it. "Are you? Are you really?"

"A bit behind? Yes, but only just. I figure if I can burn through my quarterly reports this weekend I might be able to have a leg up on next week. We've got our annual production meeting coming up, and well, it'll throw everything else off... you know," she gave a nervous laugh, "Not like I was going to do anything else this weekend anyway."

"That's not what I meant," he said frowning. "Are you fine?"

"What? No, I'm fine, really."

He gave her another appraising look. She looked too well rested to possibly be this upset. "Hermione, you're not fooling me. Drop the glamour."

She touched her face with a look of shock wondering how he possibly knew. "Oh, this silly thing? It was just for the distributor's meeting."

"Then you won't mind dropping it."

"I can't possibly; I look ghastly without makeup on."

Severus nodded and crossed his arms across his chest. "Making excuses, are we?" It must have been worse than he expected.

"I don't take orders from you, Snape. Besides, let's not deceive ourselves; you needn't pretend to care."

What could he say to that? Severus couldn't argue with her. He'd be an idiot to suggest he did care. "Do as you please," he said casually. "I'll not inquire after your welfare again. It only seemed the polite thing to do, but I see my efforts are wasted." There. That should put her off.

She checked her watch hoping to see her hour had run out. It hadn't. A change of topic was definitely needed. Hermione couldn't remain there for another minute if it meant listening to yet another person badger her about taking better care of herself. Just who did he think he was? A Weasley?

"I noticed you were reading a book when I came in..." There. That sounded decidedly neutral enough, and truth be told, she was still just a wee bit curious.

"Yes," he picked up the hardback book, thankful for the change in conversation. "You loaded me up with plenty of Muggle literature."

"I didn't know what you liked to read, but I figured you hadn't read any Muggle titles before."

"And there you've assumed correctly." Another mystery solved. Severus figured she was just trying to shove her culture down his throat.

At least he was able to get a fairly intelligent conversation out of the deal, as they debated the merits of Muggle versus wizarding literature. Although Severus had very few superlatives to say about Muggle literature, it did have one thing going for it. Science Fiction. Wizarding Science Fiction novels were abysmal. Very few bookstores were willing to carry them, and no self-respecting witch or wizard would take a crack at writing them for a wizarding audience.

Witches and wizards had absolutely no genuine appreciation for Science Fiction, for no other reason than they couldn't find an audience that was able to suspend their disbelief or understand the concept of fantasy. When confronted with Science Fiction, wizards overwhelmingly shrugged their shoulders and didn't get it. Most lofty and outer-worldly ideas were either part of everyday life or taken as a suggestion of something to try. He recalled with amazing clarity a daft Hufflepuff wizard in his graduating class who had taken it upon himself to hunt the Giant Squid simply because he believed it was in the habit of attacking some Muggle submarine.

"This one though is fairly amusing," he said, holding up the book he'd been reading while the evil minx had been spying on him. "Robinson Crusoe. I must say, I now finally understand the phrase, 'Only Robinson Crusoe had everything done by Friday'."

"Oh, if only we all could!" She gave a light laugh.

"The house-elves should be a great help to you in getting things done, you know. Unless you're not letting them work for you." Severus frowned; the thought of a house full of idle lazy elves was not appealing. It wasn't pleasant when elves were unable to serve or left too long to their own devices. They had a habit of going quite mad. The pathetic excuse for an elf, Kreacher, was only one example of that.

"What? No, I haven't moved into your Homestead yet. I've been far too busy to move."

"Madam Granger, was that not a term of our contract! You are obligated to move in."

"You never stipulated when I had to move! Besides, I've still got six months left on my flat's lease. You can't expect me to break a previous contract; clearly it should be grandfathered in."

"And in six months will you then have the time to move, or will you be just as dragged out and harassed as you are now?"

"I'm not... I'm not... Oh, screw it, we're done here. I shouldn't have to put up with this crap from you." Hermione glanced at her watch; it just wasn't moving fast enough, she had another fifteen minutes of her required visiting hour left. She stood, intent on reaching the door, when his hand caught her shoulder. Severus pinned her back against his chest.

"Hermione, please stay." Did he have to say he was sorry? "You're right; it's unfair that I've asked you to uproot your life without considering your other responsibilities." He really was trying to be gentle, and Severus felt a touch of pride as she relaxed into his embrace. "Don't break your lease, stay the six months, but I do want the old house occupied. It's been vacant far too long."

Hermione closed her eyes, it felt good just to be held, comforted. When she realized she was still standing in his embrace, Hermione quickly stepped away.

"I should still be going. Even though it's Friday night, I've got a lot to do."

He nodded his understanding.

"I assume seeing you next Tuesday will work with your schedule? Perhaps we can keep this going fairly regularly. Tuesday and Friday nights, I mean."

Severus only shrugged. If she hadn't told him it was a Friday, he wouldn't have known otherwise. "That sounds agreeable."

"Fine; I'll pencil you in." She pulled a strange black plastic Muggle device of some sort from her satchel and began playing with its buttons.

"What is that?" he asked as his curiosity got the better of him. Muggle technology had never held a particular interest for him, but she was staring quite intently at it as if it held great importance.

"My crackberry. It won't synch up here, but once I'm back in the so-called real world, it'll hook back up with my Outlook. I think it has to do with the electromagnetics involved with wizarding wards that plays havoc with Muggle technology. If I can find a work-around for it, I'll have more gold than Gringotts."

She glanced up at Severus and noted his dull expression. Obviously he was trying to cover up his ignorance for feigned disinterest. Perhaps a translation was in order.

"It holds my calendar, among other things," she explained.

"Oh."

"Until Tuesday then?"

"Yes. Good night, Hermione."

She gave him the slightest hint of a smile. "Good night, Severus."

As the door closed behind her, Severus fell into his armchair as if all the support had been knocked out of his knees. Severus took a long moment to absorb the entire night's proceedings, turning their conversations over and over in his mind as he'd do every day until Tuesday.

When he opened his eyes, the new white box drew his attention. The witch had mentioned chocolate, hadn't she?

Oh, the box contained chocolate and as tempting as fine Honeydukes bars and truffles. But Saint Hermione truly earned her nickname by sending him an enchanted self-heating teapot and a generous box of Fortnum & Mason tea. Severus' fingers softly caressed the proper eight cup brown betty. This meant more to him than a perfect cuppa. This meant access to hot water. Real hot water.

He might just start to feel human after all.

A/N:

Chapter title: Multum In Parvo - A lot in a little

Thanks to Christev20 who poured her time and talent into beta'ing this fic. If it weren't for her, every sentence would end in a preposition.