Forsan Et Haec Olim Meminisse Iuvabit

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.

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"Missus Granger!" Hermione's Floo lit up with green incandescent flames. "Missus Granger, are you home?"

Hermione grumbled as she pulled herself out of bed, knocking Crooks off his pillow along the way. "This had better be good," Hermione mumbled as she rubbed her sleep crusted eyelids. She was bound and determined to sleep as late as she wanted, given that it was a Saturday. Whoever was yelling out of her Floo had better have a damn good reason for messing with her plan.

"Billy?"

If asked to give a list of the people she expected to see in her grate at an ungodly hour of the morning, Billy Mulciber wouldn't make the top hundred. He'd hover someplace around the bottom, near Albus Dumbledore and Bono. Although Bono did have the most annoying habit of showing up positively everywhere for no real reason at all.

"Ma'am, we need you at the prison right quick."

"Oh gods, is Severus okay?" Internally Hermione was chanting 'please let him be all right.' He was a drain on her time and resources, but he made a decent husband, given that she only had to deal with him when she felt like it. That, and if he did die, she only had a one year grieving period before being forced to take a new husband. A witch had to have her priorities straight.

"He's fine, Ma'am, just a bit stuck."

"Stuck?"

"Yes, well, he apparently unpacked quite a few large items from one of your boxes, and there was a large bed and desk and some other furniture involved and now he's trapped in the back corner."

"Well, get him out."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Ma'am."

"What?" she shrieked. "Why not?"

"I can't touch the prisoner unless he's a threat to himself or others. It's part of the new prison reform legislation. We're now supposed to inform his emergency contact or guardian."

"But that's absurd. Surely you could construe it as a threat to his life if he doesn't get out?"

"I'm sorry, but I could lose my job. This job means a lot to me, Ma'am; I could lose everything if I lost it."

Hermione wasn't going to ask why he sounded a bit desperate to keep his job. Billy wasn't a bad sort. And he didn't strike her as an idiot, either. For a brief moment, Hermione wondered why he ended up at such a place to begin with; it seemed a bit beneath him.

"All right, all right. Give me a minute and I'll come over."

Bailing out her stupid stupid husband was not what she had in mind for the day. Hermione hadn't even had her coffee yet. She sighed; coffee would be heavenly. She flicked on the pot and pulled out an extra large thermos. Might as well share with the others.

She hadn't taken a single step down his hallway before hearing Severus' smooth voice loudly cursing her name, the day she was born, and...oddly enough...her hair. What was it with people and their obsession with her hair? It was ghastly, but really, why dwell?

"Oh, do shut up!" Hermione commanded from right outside his door. The wards dropped, but true enough, she couldn't open the door given the cluster of furniture. Through the jailer's peep slot she could see an arm caught between a massive armoire and a gentleman's bureau, but she couldn't see the rest of him.

Slipping her wand through the slot, Hermione quickly reduced the oversized Victorian furniture down to doll house sizes.

"And it's about damned time too, witch!" Severus growled as he rubbed his shoulder.

"You know what...I think I'll just size these back up and leave you to deal with them, if you're going to be like that," Hermione huffed as she walked in.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you. Is this your idea of some kind of joke?"

"Not at all. How'd this happen anyway?"

"I overturned the contents of your last box on the floor, and they all resized themselves at once. As if you couldn't guess that."

"Oh, dear."

"Oh, dear is right. What the hell were you thinking, bringing a full bedroom suite of furniture here? I barely have space for what I've got now."

"I see that. I really am sorry, but I didn't pack this. I just told Jake to get you a small bed to replace your cot, and a bookshelf. I didn't think he'd take it to the extreme." Well, that wasn't entirely true. Hermione knew she told him to be generous, and he had a habit of taking an idea and running with it.

"Really? Just how many of my care packages have you packed?"

"Er... you had to ask that didn't you. Um... none. I made a list and delegated it to my assistant, Jake Edwards."

"The Hufflepuff? That milk-livered clown!" Severus raged, he looked furious enough to kill, especially sporting stubble and wearing his shirt sleeves rolled up, showing off his muscular arms. "He never could take proper direction. What were you thinking?"

"Well, it worked just fine until now." Hermione tapped her foot, lost in thought for a moment. "How 'bout a peace offering? Coffee?"

Coffee.

She said coffee.

"Coffee would be agreeable," he responded hoarsely while taking a thick swallow. "As long as you can make a decent cup. Nothing frou-frou."

Hermione nodded, "I grind my own blend of Colombian beans in an Italian roast. Is that decent enough for you?"

Oh, dear gods. Severus stared at her thermos. "It'll do."

"Excellent," she replied rolling her eyes, "So glad to hear you can be so easily appeased."

"Don't start with me, witch. Now hand the coffee over."

Hermione repacked the rest of the tiny furniture except the bed and bookcase while Severus reverently inhaled the steaming brew, clearly enjoying its perfume as if it were a fine wine or Amortentia.

If she was going to remake his room, Hermione figured it was best to do it right. She pulled all the furniture into the center of the room, said a spell to even the walls, then added a layer of white color to them. Magically speaking, it wasn't quite the same as painting the room, but in the end the effect was still the same.

"Do you mind?" he inquired. "If you leave me with institutional white walls, I think I'll be climbing them within days."

"And I won't step foot in here again if you want them black."

Severus chuckled. "Typical. I suppose that's what all you Gryffindors think of me. Morbid and morose."

"Ha! That's exactly what I think of you. So tell me then, Mister Snape, which color would you choose then?"

He frowned, thinking less about his color choices and more about the way Hermione perceived him. "Perhaps a neutral color, something beige?"

Hermione concentrated on beige and added it to the walls.

"Less taupe, more tawny," Severus instructed.

Hermione amended the color.

"Brighter, but not so brownish," he insisted.

Again Hermione amended the color.

"Richer," he demanded. Once she'd adjusted the color Severus was satisfied. "Perfect."

"You could have just told me you wanted gold from the get-go, Snape."

"Oh what, and spoil the surprise?" He'd had enough of her for the moment, especially when the hot beverage practically screamed for his attention. "It seems the appropriate color for a gilded cage," he mumbled.

He was so preoccupied with sipping from his first cup Severus barely registered when Hermione stripped off his bedclothes, Evanesco'd his cot, and resized the elegantly carved sleigh bed into the space. The bookshelf was expanded to fit against the adjacent wall. It was a snug fit, but they were bound to bang elbows anyway.

The bed was remade with a change of fresh linens; Hermione left the red picnic blanket folded at the foot of the bed rather than argue with him. (That, and it was secretly satisfying to have a bit of Gryffindor color in the room of the world's most consummate Slytherin.) He seemed to growl like a possessive dog after a bone when she touched 'his stuff.' A neat orderly row of white boxes filled the bottom shelf of his book case, and on the whole, the room seemed a bit cozy.

It was at that moment that Severus' breakfast arrived. Hermione was then fully aware as to why Severus did not bother to classify the breakfasts served at the prison as edible. She supposed it was meant at one time or another to be porridge, but in her estimation it resembled papier-mâché glue. It was served with half a rotten orange.

Severus looked up at her expectantly.

"Please tell me you didn't do this to me this morning just to get me to fetch you breakfast?"

"No, but that is a rather interesting idea. So Hermione, would you like to join me for breakfast?"

Now there was a loaded question.

She was under no contractual obligation to stay with the wizard, nor was she there on business. Hermione really didn't have a valid excuse for staying. If she brought him food, would it be because she felt sorry for him, or because she wanted his company?

Did she?

The pair locked eyes, and he seemed to understand her dilemma perfectly. Severus silently challenged her, mocking her to stay with him.

"Fine, I'll get us some breakfast."

"Excellent. Oh, and Hermione... we'll need more coffee."

"Yes, dear," she replied wryly.

*****

Hermione wasn't gone long, and when she returned, she came bearing breakfast trays. And coffee. The pair lounged quietly on his bed as if it were a giant sofa and taking breakfast in his bed a regular occurrence. She also brought him the paper, and they divided it up between themselves as they munched, though Severus stole covert glances of her from behind the economics section.

He was beginning to reappraise her. Severus still wasn't sure if it was because Hermione was the kind of witch who would normally attract his interest or if it was because she was simply there, but regardless, she deserved a second glance.

Naturally, she had an intelligent face and her eyes clearly spoke of absolute conviction in her intelligence, but those eyes were also wide and quite lovely when she had more than a handful of hours of fitful sleep. Severus also hadn't seen many people with as perfect teeth as she had. One look at her gleaming straight teeth and you just knew she flossed every day. Severus snorted to himself; he was appraising her as if she were a horse.

The girl did not resemble a horse in any way shape or form. Oh, she had ample hips which Severus had described as 'mannish' to her face no less, but other wizards might have called them curvy, or sexy. And five Galleons said she could crack a brass cauldron between 'em.

No, she wasn't a ravishing beauty like Bellatrix Black had been...all luscious tits and fuckable lips. But then that bitch would steal the straw from her mother's kennel.

Hermione was an earthy pretty. A regular wholesome Muggle-next-door pretty. An obtainable pretty. He dismissed his mental wanderings. It was pointless; the chit had not been lying...she was a frigid ice queen. He'd seen Hermione shyly smile at him and nervously ramble on and on like many young witches with low self confidence did. But she was not flirting.

He'd have known if the witch were interested in him and if she were, he'd have pounced long before. It had been a very long time... Severus was forbidden from actually penetrating her, but as he so disturbingly put it before, 'there were other ways to fuck.' And for the first time in years he was beginning to think about that again.

When her plate was cleared, Hermione politely thanked him for his company, collected their trays, and left. She was completely oblivious to where his mind had taken him.

*****

Severus was reading over an academic journal when noises in the hallway alerted him to a visitor. It was nearly dinner time, but the footsteps in the hallway weren't accompanied by the squeaky-wheeled meal trolley.

This time Mulciber kindly requested the prisoner to present himself for inspection. Well, that was a new development; maybe the chit's influence on them did have some positive effect on him.

"Twice in one day? Just can't keep away, can you?" he asked with an amused grin.

As the door swung open, Hermione smiled brightly, "Eh, I had a taste for pizza..." What else could she say? Hermione certainly couldn't confess to being a little starved for company.

As Severus greedily inspected the boxes of deep dish cheese and inhaled hand tossed pepperoni, Hermione pulled a case of Belgium white from her satchel and resized it, gaining his attention immediately.

"I brought you a case of bitter," she said sheepishly. "You strike me as the bitter type... But the boys snatched it up."

"The boys?" Severus' fists clenched. "The boys have my bitter?"

"Try the Hoegaarten; it's very good."

"The boys have my bitter."

"Beer and pizza go together," she made a face, "but bitter and pizza? Yuck. I think I just did you a favor."

Severus glared at her with an intimidating stare, one she knew very well and expected to hear that she had a full month's detention with Filch. "You gave my bitters to my jailers!"

Hermione blanched, "Fine... fine... I'll go get another case. See if I ever do anything nice for you again."

As she stalked out of his cell Severus smirked. He still had it, and he didn't have to threaten her. And a good thing too, if Hermione hadn't relented he might have found his fingers closing inadvertently around her neck. Severus gave the Belgian beer a scornful sneer.

Hermione wasn't gone long, and returned as promised with a case of Boddys and a glare, which didn't faze him a bit.

After cracking open the beers and fixing plates of gooey pizza, Severus claimed his arm chair and Hermione sat Indian style on the floor, her back leaning against his new bed. The pizza hit the spot, as did the beer, and Hermione felt utterly content.

Severus closely watched her unwind and popped another beer for her.

"Trying to get me drunk, Severus?"

"You get drunk off of two beers?" He arched an eyebrow in silent challenge.

Hermione snorted before eyeing him thoughtfully. It was a fact; the man was thin and scrawny. He hadn't touched a drop of alcohol in the years he'd been locked away, unless you could count the vino they'd shared. And that had hardly been tying one on. Theoretically, she should have been able to drink the Potions Master under the table. What would that be like? Inquiring minds wanted to know.

She raised her bottle, tipping it slightly towards him. "Salute."

Severus gave a lusty laugh, his eyes filled with mirth, before returning her gesture. In his mind he was already contemplating what mischief he could get into, and Hermione was always good for a laugh, whether she realized it or not.

When his beer was consumed, Hermione kindly cracked open another one for him. It was the polite thing to do.

"So tell me, I've always wanted to know, how's it you always knew exactly when and where to show up when we were getting in trouble?" There had to be ugly icky dark magic involved, nothing else could explain it.

"Vixen, it'll take a lot more beers than this to get that answer out of me."

This time it was Hermione's turn to arch an eyebrow. "Oh, come on, don't be such a sour puss." Her hand flew up to cover her mouth, it came a bit more playful than she would have liked. Perhaps she needed to make sure her stomach was full.

"Well then, let's try this. You tell me how you managed to crack into my storeroom and I'll consider answering that."

"Consider? Not good enough." Hermione grabbed another slice of cheese. "But if it's tit for tat you want, I'm not averse to the idea. You stir my cauldron, and I'll stir yours. I admit I'm more than a bit curious about some things about you, and trust me when I say I have a lot more interesting stories than the one about breaking into your storeroom. I am, after all, Harry's best friend."

Severus didn't bother to hide a sneer upon hearing Harry's name, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

Suddenly Hermione giggled, and waved off Severus' questioning look. How could she explain to him that she was seized by an overwhelming urge to break into Rodgers and Hammerstein's 'Getting to Know You.' He wouldn't appreciate the gesture at all, though he would make an excellent King of Siam. Hermione did her best to compose herself back into the kind of expression suitable for hanging out with a Death Eater. Murdering, bastard, traitor, fucking Death Eater, with a bit of cheese stuck to the corner of his mouth.

"Why'd you have to go and get Lupin fired? Please tell me it wasn't petty schoolboy grievances. He was the best Defense teacher we had."

"No, I was the best Defense teacher you had. And I didn't have anything against Lupin personally, other than the fact that he's tried several times to eat me. His presence put the entire school population in jeopardy, as you'll no doubt remember the time he tried to rip you into small bite-sized pieces. Don't bother trying to defend him, you know it's true."

"It still seems pretty damn petty to me."

"Hermione, it would only take one instance of a child getting injured before the Ministry would sweep in, and you know they wouldn't have hesitated to put him down like an animal."

"Well you needn't worry about him any longer. He's dead."

Hermione expected a scathing retort, something along the lines of 'good riddance,' but she was thrown completely off track by the look of honest remorse that flitted briefly across his features and slumped shoulders.

"Albus still had no business inviting him into the school."

Hermione snorted loudly. "Five out of seven of my DADA professors were Death Eaters; none of them had any business teaching at the school. Geez, you'd figure with the entire Order to draw from, the Headmaster could have found better candidates."

Severus shook his head, his dark hair concealing his face. He was in no mood to disparage Albus. "Few of the Order would have it... Five out of seven? I'm sorry, I didn't really think of it that way."

"Yeah, it's surprising we learned anything useful at all. First was Quirrell, and though not technically branded by the Dark Mark, I'd say being the vessel for Voldemort's return qualifies him for Death Eater status. Then I had Lockhart and Lupin. Lockhart didn't teach us anything at all, and as much as I loved Professor Lupin... he was absent for so many classes. Fourth year I had Barty Crouch masquerading as Mad-Eye, Death Eater. Then Umbridge..."

"Who wasn't a Death Eater," he interrupted.

"Yes, she was. Umbridge was in his pocket. Came out at trial about a year ago. Not that anybody was surprised. Then you taught us."

"And did a damn fine job. Somebody had to make sure you actually learned something."

Hermione nodded, "That you did, but it doesn't negate the fact that you're a Death Eater. Then Professor Carrow had the class."

"Which you never attended. Tell me... what were your N.E.W.T. scores? I always wondered if you would beat mine."

"I never took them," she sighed. Noticing his shocked face, Hermione added, "They just didn't seem as important after all that had happened, and by the time the Ministry was ready to start testing again I had launched my first product line. I've been too busy ever since."

"Regret it?" If someone had told Severus Snape that Hermione Granger took a pass on her N.E.W.T.s, he'd have told them to pull the other one. There was no comprehensible way that could have happened.

Hermione shrugged and took a long swig of beer. Severus averted his eyes quickly; he was unable to watch her suck from the bottle and not react. "I have so many regrets, my N.E.W.T. scores hardly rank. But this is depressing and I don't want to talk about it any longer. That, and it's my turn to ask the questions."

Severus merely nodded for her to continue; it was good sportsmanship and all that. Despite the drink in hand his throat was dry... and his balls achingly heavy. He took a fortifying slug.

"So Snape... during my years at Hogwarts did you ever have a girlfriend?"

He spat his bitter. "Are you honestly asking if I ever got laid?"

"Yeah, because Ron always figured..."

"I know what Mr. Weasley figured." He tried to sop up the spilled drink from his robes whilst giving Hermione his best glare. She seemed quite underwhelmed by it. "As a matter of fact I did. I dated a lovely witch in Hogsmeade between your second and fourth years... Why Hermione, with your mouth gaping open like that, one might get the impression you were giving out free blowjobs tonight. How charitable indeed."

"Fuck you."

"Not precisely the comeback I was expecting, but if you're offering that as well..."

Hermione's stony glare could have given Snape in his heyday a serious run for his money. "What, couldn't keep her after my fourth year?" She pretended to count on her fingers. "Don't tell me you were slumming it with an ill-bred witch? A Death Eater with a tainted girlfriend, what gossip! Whatever did the other purebloods think?" she said with as much icy malice as she could muster.

If her comment cut to the core as it was meant to, Severus didn't take notice. "As if I'd bring any witch I cared about to the Dark Lord's attentions. Really, what kind of monster do you take me for? And if you're really so goddamned curious as I suspect you are, Kathleen happened to be a half blood like myself. And she was a very talented belly dancer, used to do the most incredible things in bed. She would roll and contract her stomach muscles while I was in her. I swear I've never had a tighter pussy in my life."

"Stop!" Hermione interrupted, holding up her hand. "I don't want to hear it."

"Why, Madam Granger, you're positively blushing. Please don't tell me you're embarrassed to hear your husband talk about another woman. Or perhaps you're jealous?" he asked with a quirked smile.

"Just spare me, Snape. I'd really prefer not to think of you as a sexual being at all, if you don't mind."

"And yet you asked the question. What am I to make of that, hmm?"

"It was a mistake. I know that now." Hermione cradled her head in her hands, trying to disappear into her palms instead of meeting his gaze.

"Fine. You stole from my locker; you brewed a potion that was way above your year and skill level. Cocked it all up by using feline hair of all things." If Hermione had bothered to look up, she would have seen pure amusement dancing in his dark eyes. "Why? What was so important that you risked expulsion?"

"Harry and Ron Polyjuiced themselves to be Crabbe and Goyle to interview Malfoy about him being the heir to Slytherin. I was supposed to be Bulstrode, but other than the hair sample the potion was perfect. It was obviously not above my skill level," she replied with more than a hint of indignation in her voice. She lifted her eyes to the sound of Severus chuckling.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," he continued laughing.

"And why's that?"

"If you'd bothered to do your research, my dear, you'd know that the Malfoy line doesn't date back to Slytherin's time. The long and illustrious pureblooded Malfoy name only goes back a couple of generations at best," he said amongst a fit of more laughter.

"Why do you think they were so obsessed with fantasies of pureblooded superiority and all that other rot? You've never heard of old money versus the nouveau riche? Lucius practically had to spend his entire fortune to buy a Black bride, and he didn't even get the desirable sister. That witch ran off and married a Muggle rather than have him."

Hermione groaned. "I spent weeks humiliated as a half-mutated cat. I had hair... everywhere."

"Oh, it gets better than that," Severus said gasping for breath.

"I don't know if I want to hear this," she said softly.

"Tell me, what did you think of the boomslang skin you pilfered?"

Hermione made a face wondering where he was going with the question. "It was fresh... Intact... And from what I can remember it was fairly good quality."

"Well, I know for a fact it was excellent quality, but then I always have a ready supply of boomslang skin."

She groaned, not willing to hear what was coming next, and yet somehow instinctively, she knew.

"You wanted to know how I could silently creep along the corridors, how I was always aware of where students were and could suddenly appear right behind them? Oh, sweet Vixen, I am an Animagus. Now guess what my form is."

"Ugh! That's foul!" She dropped her beer and it sloshed.

Hermione began to dry heave as if the Polyjuice might still be in her system, as if the taste of Snape could still be felt in her mouth. She choked as Severus busted out into new peals of laughter. When it was evident that Hermione couldn't stop choking, he rushed over to her and rubbed her back.

"Are you all right?" he asked with tears of laughter in his eyes, but Severus was completely serious.

"I'll be fine," Hermione gasped. "I just... ugh... I need a moment."

Hermione tried to calm her head and stomach by thinking about other things. After a regaining her breath she asked shakily, "Then what keeps you here? I bet you could slip out of this cell and all of Azkaban without much trouble?"

"I keep myself here, Madam Granger," he replied with deadly calm.

It was true; there were many times Severus contemplated simply leaving. Hermione also had an atrocious habit of absently leaving her wand laying within his reach. If he dared, pinching it from the witch would make his escape a simple affair, but it didn't change the fact that he knew deep within his foundation that he deserved to be locked away.

"And this morning? You weren't trapped at all! You could have slipped between the furniture and yet you didn't. You wanted me to get called! You used me, you made me somehow feel guilty and bring you breakfast!"

"Stop being so melodramatic. Didn't you see my shoulder was pinned? I couldn't have transformed if I wanted to."

She sighed loudly and heaved herself up until standing. "I don't think I can handle any more honesty, and I don't know if there's anything more about you I want to know." Hermione shuddered. "I think it would be wise if I left."

Hermione collected her satchel and put a warming stasis on the pizza boxes to keep them fresh for Severus, in case he wanted pizza for breakfast. He didn't look like the 'pizza for breakfast' type, but then she realized she didn't know him very well either. That, and Hermione now knew for a fact that breakfasts at Azkaban were rank.

As she was making a swift exit, Severus called out to her. "Hermione, wait," she turned at the note of soft pleading in his voice. "You never asked about the Headmaster. Why didn't you?"

She gave him a small smile of understanding. "It's not my place to pry."

*

A/N:

Chapter title: Forsan Et Haec Olim Meminisse Iuvabit : Perhaps someday we will look back upon these things with joy