Chapter Three

Disclaimer: JKR owns all recognizable characters and settings. No copyright infringement is intended.

Severus Snape had known it was not going to be a good day the moment he'd heard the knock at his door. After all, it was rare for someone to visit him at Spinner's End, and of those who had, all but one were now dead...and he knew better than to show up uninvited. When he had opened the door to find Hermione Granger Malfoy, her expression a mixture of defiance and vulnerability, the hairs on the back of his neck had raised, as if his body had recognised the danger of her presence even before his mind.

His most pressing concern, however, was not her mere presence. Oh, no. She had shown up at his door pregnant...of some months, as well, if the bump he had felt pressed against him when he had halted her fall were any indication. Damn and blast. If she were anyone but Draco's wife .... But Draco had been more than just a former student; he had been a friend, and Severus knew he would honour his promise and help his friend's widow in whatever way he could.

Severus turned to face the witch, straightened his spine, placed his hands on his hips, and asked, "Just how pregnant are you, Mrs Malfoy?"

He immediately wanted to kick himself for asking the question in such an inane manner, but it wasn't every day a woman showed up at his door enceinte and seeking refuge.

"I assure you, Professor," Hermione replied dryly, "I am adequately pregnant."

Severus tilted his head in warning at her flippant remark, but he was grudgingly impressed with her temerity, given the situation.

After some moments had passed, she sighed and said, "The baby is due in three and a half months."

Severus nodded, relieved that the child's arrival was not imminent, and sat down in the armchair across from the sofa. "Why, exactly, are you here?" She opened her mouth to reply, and he raised a hand to halt what he fully expected was to be an angry tirade, judging by her red face and irate expression. "I mean to ask what circumstances have led you to seek out my assistance."

She seemed to deflate a bit, her shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. She stared at him a moment before answering, "I was evicted from my flat. My landlord expected certain ... privileges. As I was unwilling to consider such an arrangement, he felt it best that I leave and gave me three days to pack my belongings and find a new place to live."

"I see," Severus replied, carefully maintaining his blank expression. He was outraged by her revelation. Only the most contemptible sort of person would use such tactics against a pregnant widow. "I promised Draco that should the need arise, I would be willing to help you...and I am willing...but I am surprised that there is not another more ... suitable person whom you could approach for assistance."

He watched her jaw clench as she responded flatly, "There is no one."

His eyes narrowed; perhaps there was more to this story than he was aware. Whatever had happened, it was none of his business, and regardless, it would not negate his responsibility. His sense of honour and duty might have been a tad rusty, but they were still there...he would keep his word. He would help her.

He nodded abruptly before rising to stand in front of the hearth, his hands clasped behind his back. "Very well. You may stay here ... temporarily. There are conditions, however. There will be no visitors, no friends," he said with a sneer, "coming to call and traipsing through my home. I value my privacy, and you will do well to remember that. You will leave me alone, and I will leave you alone. I see no reason for us to interact beyond what is absolutely necessary. I have never been much on pleasantries, Mrs Malfoy, and I do not expect that to change in the foreseeable future. Any questions?"

"Yes, sir. I would like to pay you for my room and board. What would you consider to be fair?"

Severus was aghast. "I am offended that you would even dare to ask. I am honouring a promise to a friend. To accept money would taint that honour. I refuse. Any further questions?"

She shook her head, although her pinched expression suggested that she was not pleased. Severus knew, however, that she would comply. She had no choice, after all; she could not force him to accept her money.

"Good. Collect your trunk and come with me."

He led her through a doorway and into the kitchen to the narrow staircase. Once they reached the top, he stopped on the small landing.

"This," he said, indicating the door directly opposite the stairs, "is my room. You are not to enter." He turned, opening the door on his right. "You will sleep here."

She brushed past him, entering the small but bright bedroom. Severus watched as she directed her trunk to the foot of the bed. She removed her cloak, clasping the material to her as she looked about the room. He was certain she had not anticipated that such a space would be found in his home; the walls were a cheery yellow, and the furniture was a bleached white, as was the quilt covering the bed.

"It is small," he said gruffly, "but it should be satisfactory for your needs."

She smiled briefly as she ran her fingers across the quilt. "It's lovely. Thank you."

For a moment, he felt the absurd desire to smile back at her.

"Supper will be ready in one hour. Do not be late," he snapped. He exited the room, forcefully shutting the door behind him.

~o0o~

Severus was placing two bowls of steaming hot stew onto the table when she appeared in the kitchen, looking wary and out of place.

Rolling his eyes, he motioned for her to sit before placing a loaf of hot, crusty bread on the table and then taking his own seat. From the corner of one eye, he noticed that she ate ravenously of the stew and bread.

Supper was eaten in silence, and although that was exactly what he had wished, he found it disconcerting. The woman across the table had always been somewhat of a chatterbox...it was odd for her to be so quiet. Satisfied that he had discovered the source of his discomfort, he continued eating.

When they had both finished, Severus rose to his feet and began to wash up. As he stood at the sink, he informed his guest that he would be retiring to the sitting room to read for the remainder of the evening. "You may do as you wish." There was no response, and he turned to find the young witch asleep, her arms folded one on top of the other on the tabletop, her cheek resting against one hand.

Severus heaved a sigh and pulled out his wand, preparing to utter a quick Mobilicorpus in order to move her up the stairs to the guest room. He faltered when he remembered the pregnancy. He was unsure if the spell was safe for pregnant women. His eyes closed, and he groaned audibly as he realised he was going to have to carry the witch upstairs.

As he gathered her into his arms, her head lolled to one side, coming to rest against his shoulder. He shifted her to a more comfortable position and was startled by her slightness. Surely a pregnant woman of her height should weigh more than this, he thought before reminding himself that it was none of his concern. He was providing her temporary shelter...that was all.

Gritting his teeth, Severus carried her up the stairs to the guest room. He placed her gently on the bed, covering her with the quilt. "Just how much trouble are you going to be, Hermione Malfoy?" he whispered, his gaze focussed on her sleeping form.

Quietly, he closed the door behind him and muttered, "Already a nuisance."

~o0o~

Severus retired to the sitting room and poured himself a glass of brandy before sitting down in the chair by the fireplace to read. He could not seem to concentrate on the book, however, and soon abandoned his attempts at reading to stare out of the small front window, losing himself in his thoughts.

Draco. As much as the little bugger had annoyed him at times, they had been friends ... and Severus missed him. He had been proud of his former student; Draco had grown immensely since the end of the war. Severus' mouth curved into a small smile as he recalled the regal manner in which the young wizard had held himself at his father's sentencing and the restrained grief he had exhibited at his mother's funeral, just weeks after Lucius had received the Dementors' Kiss. His comportment had been a far cry from that of the spoiled, self-centered boy Severus had once known.

While he had been unable to attend Draco's marriage ceremony, Severus had noted how responsibility and married life had suited his former charge, giving him more to consider than his own scrawny neck. Severus had never been as pleased as he had been the day Draco had sold Malfoy Manor...a home rich in history and the pride of every Malfoy for generations...in order to pay the majority of the enormous debt incurred by his parents ... debt that had been passed on from father to son upon Lucius' incarceration. Draco had been determined to make the Malfoy name something to be proud of...not only for his own sake but for that of his wife ... and now, it appeared, for his child, as well. It was a travesty that the life of a young man had been snuffed out just as he had succeeded in turning that life around.

Severus remembered well the day he had received the desperate letter from Draco explaining the nature of his sudden illness. Bellatrix had been livid when Draco had not followed through with the murder of Albus Dumbledore; she had considered it a personal affront to the family name. In a fit of pique, she had cursed the boy...at the time he had been a mere child of sixteen...but when no immediate effect had been detected, Draco and his parents had assumed the crazy witch had either cast the spell incorrectly or missed him entirely. There had been no way of knowing that Bellatrix had altered the spell so that its effects would not be seen for years. It had not been until the incessant coughing had begun that Draco had suspected that something might be terribly wrong ... and by then, it had been too late. There simply had not been enough time to find a counter-spell.

Draco's entreaty that Severus be of aid to his soon-to-be widow had been in that very same letter. Severus had been shocked at the request, even though he was well aware of the rift between the young Mrs Malfoy and the Weasleys, as well as Harry Potter's continued absence. Her parents had died soon after their return from Australia in, of all things, a Muggle car crash. The witch was bright and resourceful, however, and Severus had felt certain that she would never require his help ... and if she ever did, there would most certainly have been someone else to whom she would rather go for aid.

When she had shown up at his door that afternoon, Severus had instantly suspected her purpose, and this had quickly been confirmed when he'd seen the familiar piece of parchment clutched in her hand. Stunned by the implication the presence of the letter presented, he had taken a step back as he had realised that his carefully constructed, self-imposed exile was about to be temporarily suspended. The momentary lapse in control had been misconstrued as reluctance, however, and the young widow had raised her stubborn chin and set off to places unknown ... until she had run into that damned trunk.

Severus cringed at his show of insensitivity. The witch was grieving, and he regretted that his perceived hesitation at fulfilling his promise to her late husband might have added to her pain in even the smallest amount.

And then there was his own pain to consider. Draco had been his friend...one of the few people he had ever called such...and now he would be reminded of his absence day in and day out, almost certainly until after the holiday. He did not want to be reminded, he did not want to have company, he did not want to be her friend. He wanted to be left alone. In Severus' experience, friendship with him always ended in someone's death.

"Enough," he whispered harshly.

There was no need to reflect further upon such maudlin thoughts. It was bad enough to be forced to relive such moments in his dreams.

~o0o~

Severus woke early, as he did every morning, and was about to go down the stairs in his nightshirt to grab a cup of coffee and the Daily Prophet when he remembered a certain Gryffindor witch was currently residing in his guest room. Irritated that now he would have to dress before having his morning coffee, he turned to the cupboard. He was pulling out a pair of trousers when there was a knock at his door.

"What is it?" he snapped. Good gods, it wasn't even seven o'clock, and she was already proving irksome.

"Pardon me, Professor, but I was wondering if you could tell me where the bathroom is?"

Severus rolled his eyes as he noted the hint of desperation in her voice; she hadn't used the loo the previous night before she had fallen asleep. He momentarily considered telling her that the only bathroom was the communal one outside, but then he sighed and said, "Tap your wand three times on the wall across from your door ... slowly. Then say Alohomora, and the door will appear."

"Thank you, sir," she replied, the words muffled by the closed door.

He stood very still and listened. Tap ... tap ... tap. "Alohomora!" Then came the sound of the door quickly opening and closing. He swore he could almost hear her relieved sigh. Severus felt his lips twitch in amusement.

After he finished dressing, he checked the bathroom and found it empty. He quickly performed his morning ablutions and had just finished shaving when he smelt it ... coffee. And bacon and eggs. Perhaps even some toast.

She was making breakfast.

First, he had been forced to carry her to bed, then she had ruined his morning routine, and now she was cooking her breakfast in his kitchen with no consideration for his needs whatsoever. A muscle in his jaw clenched, and then he was pounding down the stairs.

"Mrs Malfoy..." he said sharply as he entered the kitchen. He came to an abrupt stop as he took in the sight before him. At his seat at the table was a plate, piled high with eggs and bacon ... and toast. He loved toast. Severus shifted his gaze to the oddly beaming woman standing next to the stove, a cup of freshly brewed coffee in her hands.

"Good morning, Professor!" she said cheerfully...too cheerfully.

Severus scowled. It was indecent to be that happy first thing in the morning.

"I hope you don't mind, but I cooked breakfast this morning, since you made supper last night." She glanced down at the cup in her hands. "Oh! Here is your coffee, sir."

He watched her suspiciously, grunting his thanks as he took the cup and sat down in his chair, staring the plate of food before him. Picking up his fork, he took a bite of eggs and then the bacon. It was ... good. Very good, in fact. He sipped the coffee. Dear Merlin in his crystal cave. It was the best coffee he'd ever had...it was rich and dark and bitter, just the way he liked it. He glared at the cup and then at the witch who brewed it.

"What did you do to my coffee?"

Her smile faltered. "Does it taste bad? I've never made coffee before. I'm not a coffee drinker, and neither was ..."

Draco's name was left unsaid, and Severus caught the flash of profound grief that crossed her features before she delicately shrugged one shoulder and smiled again.

"It is an acquired taste, or so I am told," Severus murmured softly.

She nodded, that ridiculous smile plastered on her face, filled her own plate with a spoonful of eggs and a slice of toast, and sat down to eat.

Breakfast was as silent as supper had been the previous night, but it was a comfortable silence; perhaps he was already acclimating to the troublesome creature's presence. Or maybe...and more likely...he was thinking with his stomach. The meal was very good.

When they had both finished, Severus noticed that the young woman was about to return upstairs, reminding him of something he needed to discuss with her.

"Mrs Malfoy..."

"Hermione, please, Professor. Mrs Malfoy is Draco's mother, and I'm afraid I have rather ... unpleasant memories of her."

His eyebrows raised; he hadn't realised that Narcissa had ever met Draco's Muggle-born wife. Given Narcissa's warped views on Muggles and Muggle-borns, Severus could certainly understand not wanting to recall such an association.

"Hermione," he emphasised, "I have reset the wards to recognise your magical signature. You may feel free to Apparate directly to and from the guest room."

"Thank you, sir," Hermione said. Then her cheeks flushed, and she continued, "And thank you ... for putting me to bed last night. I hadn't realised I was so tired."

Severus nodded stiffly. "Indeed. See that it does not happen again."

He picked up his edition of the Prophet and began to read, pausing a moment when she stood to leave the room.

"Oh, and Hermione? Don't pretend to be cheerful for my benefit. Your morning disposition makes no difference to me."

Her angry stomps up the stairs were not wholly unexpected, and Severus finished reading the Prophet in the peace and solitude to which he was accustomed.

~o0o~

The next few days followed the same routine, the exception being that rather than the smiling young witch he had come downstairs to the first morning, he now found an irritable young witch who very much resembled something the Kneazle dragged in. A morning person she most certainly was not.

Each day, Hermione cooked breakfast, and Severus prepared supper. She was surprisingly quiet...they rarely spoke more than a handful of words to each other during the course of a day, and most of those were courtesy exchanges such as, "Please, pass the jam." After supper, Severus excused himself to the sitting room to read, and Hermione would spend the remainder of the evening in her room. He assumed she was either reading or retiring early; perhaps the pregnancy was draining. Whatever the reason, it was fine with him, as her intrusion into his life thus far did not seem to have had as much of an impact as he had anticipated.

Things might just work out after all.

~o0o~

Severus was going over a file in his cellar office when he heard the sound of a Floo call in the sitting room. As he headed up the stairs, he caught the urgency in the voice and hastened his steps.

"Professor Snape? Professor Snape, are you there? This is of vital importance!"

Severus strode into the room and then stood before the green flames. He recognised the bone-and-wand insignia on the witch's robes. What would a Healer want with him?

"I am here, madam."

The woman appeared relieved. "Thank Merlin! We weren't sure who to contact, but as you were listed as the emergency contact on the late Mr Malfoy's records, we assumed it would be safe to..."

"It is never safe to assume anything," Severus snapped. "Now would you please get to the point?"

"Oh! Yes, of course," she said, apparently flustered. "Hermione Malfoy collapsed at the Ministry this morning, and we need you to..."

"I will be there shortly," he interrupted before ending the Floo connection.

Damn it! He should have known something like this would happen. Things had been going much too smoothly, and that should have been the first indication that trouble was brewing.

Severus stepped into the fireplace, threw down a handful of Floo powder, and shouted, "St Mungo's!"

My thanks, as always, to DeeMichelle, Subversa, and LettyBird! You ladies are the best!

Another evil cliffhanger. Sorry! But never fear, the next chapter will post in a week.