Exhibition

A/N:The third prompt: Hermione and Severus at the Harry Potter exhibit in Chicago. I've not seen the exhibition, so I was very grateful for the kind help of geminiscorp, machshefa and lulabelle who all have. I also cribbed off the Leaky Cauldron's report for the order in which the exhibition appears.

For lynelucas.

Many thanks as ever to septentrion for the beta and to sylvanawood for some much needed cheerleading.

For once, the bathroom mirror remained silent as it contemplated its owner shaving...the old-fashioned way, with his father's cut-throat razor at five o'clock in the afternoon...a fact for which Severus was profoundly grateful.

He tilted his head, stretching the skin on his neck. It was still new, this lack of pain, the absence of a wound that refused to heal. Gingerly, he scraped away his day's growth of beard. A pleasure, now, shaving. Something to be appreciated, not hurried. Not even today when... He grinned at his reflection, having something to smile about for a change.

Severus Snape had a girlfriend, and he was meeting her in an hour.

'Who'd have thought it, eh?' He dipped the razor in the hot water and shook it. It seemed there was hope for him yet.

And not just any old girlfriend, either. Hermione Granger. No one in their right mind would call her run of the mill. She was good looking, intelligent, witty...the sort of witch capable of minding your back in a wand fight should the need arise. And an Unspeakable to boot, whose meteoric rise through the ranks was causing something of a stir in the higher echelons of society. Impatient to get to the top, the indomitable Miss Granger was cutting a swathe through the Department of Mysteries with her high-handed reforms, discarding long established procedures and traditions along the way fast enough to make any pure-blood politician tremble in his handmade Italian shoes. But she had Kingsley's ear and was the Saviour of the Wizarding world's best friend. Not only Unspeakable but Untouchable. Oh, yes, Hermione Granger was top totty, all right, with many an eligible wizard vying for her attention. And yet, for reasons still unknown, she seemed to have chosen him.

Pinching his nose, Severus brought the blade to his top lip and paused, giving the matter some thought, before continuing. Perhaps it was because he'd taken the trouble to look past the Erumpent-hided facade she put on at work? Maybe he was the only one who noticed the straightening of the shoulders every time some low-ranking official called her a hard-nosed bitch within earshot? Or maybe it was because he recognised that, inside that shell, she was still the same, insecure little Muggle-born swot he remembered waving her hand around in his classroom, desperate to gain his attention, determined to make her mark in an alien world that treated her kind with suspicion. The fact she hadn't stopped in her struggle to be recognised, and to prove she was as good as the next witch, was only a credit to her fortitude.

Severus rinsed the soap residue from his face and grabbed a towel, wondering what the afternoon and, hopefully, the night would bring. This would be their third date, and this time, it was he who had chosen the venue. The second one, while it had ended most satisfactorily, had got off to a shaky start.

'Do you have a DVD player?'

'Naturally.'

He'd lied, of course, sooner than admit he had no idea what Hermione was talking about.

There had followed a rather frustrating morning in a depressing out of town industrial estate, firstly trying to identify said contraption and subsequently purchasing one...together with a state-of-the-art television set. In the process, a spotty-faced youth, bearing the name-tag "Darren" (presumably so he wouldn't forget) came within a Kneazle's whisker of being hexed for his impertinence. Unfortunately, despite his Herculean effort, when Hermione had arrived and he'd switched it on, the ancient electricity supply at Spinner's End, which he hardly ever used, had refused to co-operate and set fire to the fuse board instead.

So much for 'The Ladykillers.'

Then there was the takeaway 'pizza' she'd brought with her, if that's what you could call it. Severus shuddered at the memory. There was probably more taste and nutritional value in the cardboard box it had arrived in, and he'd told her as much, which hadn't gone down at all well. He smirked at the mirror before healing a small cut near his ear; he'd found some inventive things to do with the olives afterwards, though, which had gone a long way to salvaging the evening.

Severus was still smiling a few minutes later when he was putting on his shirt. It was very strange this... lightness of being. It took some getting used to; he had, after all, lived in a state of almost permanent melancholia for most of his adult life. It was not unwelcome, however. And it was the amulet he had to thank for this improvement to his temperament.

The animals, in their wisdom, had made it quite clear: all or nothing. Physical healing could only be accomplished if his mental and emotional state was given equal consideration. And so, one by one, they had made him face his worst fears and stripped away years of mental anguish and guilt. The last had been the most difficult to deal with: Unicorn's purity of spirit was almost unbearable to behold, and he'd tried to shrink away, afraid that the darkness within could only taint such a beautiful creature. But the mare had been insistent in her pursuit, finally bowing her head and touching her horn to Severus' heart.

He'd wept then, for the mistakes of his youth and the life he should have lived, eventually waking up on the floor of Hermione's office, red-eyed and embarrassed. She had handed him a box of tissues but made no comment.

'It is over,' he said, removing the amulet from around his neck. 'Take it. I never want to see it again.'

'Thank you for all your help, Severus.' Hermione walked to her desk and pulled out a bottle of firewhisky and two glasses from the bottom drawer. 'Drink? You look like you need one.'

And somehow he knew that life was about to get a whole lot better...

~ ~HGSS~~

Hermione was waiting for him in the Leaky Cauldron at six as arranged, looking rather fetching in her Muggle clothing. She held out a beer mat. 'International Portkey to Chicago as requested, activating in fifteen minutes so we have time for a drink first. I had to call in a few favours for this.' She grinned. 'I'm expecting something special, Severus.'

'Then I trust I shall not disappoint you, Hermione...'

~~HGSS~~

Hermione stared at the sign on the door in disbelief.

Closed for refurbishment.

'You brought me all this way for a pizza?'

'Yes, I...'

'To a restaurant that isn't going to re-open for another week?'

'I thought you liked Italian...' Severus sighed resignedly. He should have taken the time to make a reservation, but the friendly staff had always managed to squeeze him in somewhere in this, one of his favourite, out of the way restaurants in the Americas. Just his luck, really. He'd been hoping that this little family run establishment would have woven some of its Neapolitan magic and shown Hermione what a real pizza should taste like, thus providing a romantic prelude to what he hoped would turn into a night of frenzied passion. By the expression on her face, however, he'd blown any chance of that right out of the water.

'I'm sorry...' He trailed off. Hermione was staring past his shoulder, mouth open in horror.

'What the hell...?' She lifted a shaky arm and pointed. 'Severus, look.'

He turned around just in time to see a bus turning a corner.

'Did you see that?' Hermione asked.

Nodding, Severus kept his eyes fixed on the disappearing bus. 'Yes.'

'"Harry Potter: The Exhibition"?' she almost shrieked. 'What, in Merlin's name, is that?'

'I've no idea,' he replied, taking her arm. 'Now, shall we try and find somewhere else to eat?'

'How can you even think of food...?' Hermione regarded him suspiciously, her Unspeakable antennae twitching. 'Severus Snape. If you know anything about this, anything at all, you'd better tell me. Immediately.'

~~HGSS~~

It took Hermione and Severus an hour to discover the location of the exhibition and to subsequently find the Museum of Science and Industry. 'This is becoming a habit,' Hermione muttered as she and Severus wove their way through a group of excitable Muggle women in what appeared to be fancy dress. They started nudging each other and staring at them...or rather, at Severus.

She glanced around warily as they descended the stairs. 'How peculiar...'

Severus merely shrugged.

There were still a lot of people milling about even though it was early evening. Fortunately for them, the opening hours had been extended, and so there was no need to break in. That would have been the least of their worries, though, Hermione thought, more concerned with the logistics of a mass Obliviate as she walked around the exhibition space, unable to grasp the enormity of the secrecy breach. The set of the Gryffindor Common room was eerily true to life. Could a Gryffindor be responsible? It didn't bear thinking about. And what involvement, if any, did Severus have in all this? He may have been a spy all those years, but despite the poker face, his flat denial hadn't rung true, somehow.

Following behind, Severus kept his face impassive while his mind raced. It was a mistake to bring her here. I should've known something like this might happen.

'Who could have done this?' Hermione asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. 'They even know about Quidditch!'

'Who indeed?' Severus hesitated before putting a hand on her shoulder. 'Shall we leave, now?'

'Oh, no. I want to see everything!'

'Very well. I believe the next exhibit is through there...'

~ * ~

'So... ' Hermione's eyes swept around the Divination Classroom, taking it all in. 'Sybill Trelawney seems well represented... Do you think it could have been her?'

'I hardly think that's likely. Sybill may be deluded, but she's no law breaker.' Severus smirked and nodded at a group of Muggles, who were taking it in turns to stare into a teacup. Unconsciously, he slipped his arm around Hermione's waist, and much to his relief, she reciprocated. Drawing her in closer, Severus took a moment to relish the feel of her pressed against him. Sybill could have gazed in her crystal ball for all eternity and never envisaged this piece of good fortune.

'What do you think those two can see with their inner eyes?' he whispered.

His breath on her ear was just so... Hermione snorted. 'Such rubbish. Realistic, but rubbish, nevertheless.'

Severus smirked. 'You're reading my mind. Seen enough?'

'No.'

They turned the corner...

What the fuck?

... and found themselves in the Potions classroom.

~ * ~

They could only stare in amazement.

A woman in front of them let out a long sigh. 'It's just how I imagined it in the books.'

'Books?' Hermione mouthed to Severus, letting her arm fall. She stepped away to take a closer look.

'I'm not so sure...,' the woman's friend replied. 'But look! Snape's costume!'

'Oh, look at all those buttons! It's fabulous!'

Severus stared, his eyebrows almost reaching his hairline. A frock coat? Were they mad?

'Yeah. If only the Potions master were really here...'

They sighed in unison. 'Yeah.'

Filled with indignation, Severus turned to Hermione for support, only to find she had her hand stuffed in her mouth. 'Shall we continue?' he asked.

Coughing, she replied, 'One minute, I want to find out more about those books. Excuse me ladies...'

Severus could feel a headache coming on.

~ * ~

A few exhibits later, somewhere between the greenhouses and the Quidditch display, a thought struck Hermione. 'Have you noticed something?' she asked.

Severus smiled as he spotted Hagrid's Hut. 'I've noticed a lot of things, Hermione. Could you be a little more specific?'

'Well...' She gestured around her with a broad sweep of her arm. 'These, er, sets are pretty accurate for the most part, and some of the... props, uncannily so. But the costumes...' Hermione made a face.

'Quite. They are consistently bizarre.' That get-up Lockhart was supposed to have worn had given them both a much needed laugh; it had almost made up for the frock coat. 'It would seem these Muggles have a very peculiar idea of wizarding dress.'

'Yes. I wonder why. Artistic licence? Perhaps robes are too drab and boring? She shrugged. 'Come on. There can't be much more to go... Ooh, look! The Forbidden Forest! Now what do you think they have in store for us through those arches...?'

~ * ~

'Merlin!' Severus sucked in a breath, the room devoted to the Dark Arts and the Death Eaters taking him by surprise, although he recovered quickly. 'Look at those ripped excuses for robes,' he whispered. 'Can you imagine Lucius ever joining Voldemort's ranks if he'd been expected to wear that outfit?'

'No,' Hermione replied, shuddering, 'I can't. But I've seen enough, now. This place is giving me the creeps.' And that Dementor is way too realistic, she thought, increasing her pace as she led the way towards a familiar set of double doors. On the other side, as expected, she found herself in the Great Hall.

Still trying to digest everything they'd seen, Severus dropped back. He'd have to tell her something, but how much? What was relevant? Lost in thought, he had to stop abruptly to avert a collision with Hermione, who was staring, arms folded, at yet another display of elaborate costumes.

'Pink,' she said weakly. 'With my complexion?'

'What?'

'That... dress. I'm supposed to have worn it to the Yule Ball, apparently.'

She was looking at him expectantly. What was he supposed to say? He knew nothing about formal gowns. 'Oh. I see... It's a bit on the small side, isn't it?'

Evidently, not that.

'Are you saying I'm fat?' she snapped.

'No, of course not,' Severus said hurriedly. 'That actress is, ah, smaller than you, that's all.'

Hermione's eyes were blazing. 'She's nothing like me. Did you see the hair? How straight it is...?' Narrowing her eyes, she scowled at him. 'You'd prefer it like that though, I bet. Pity it isn't red.'

'What? That was totally uncalled for.' Sighing, Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. With all of his carefully laid plans for the evening in tatters, it was time to concede defeat. 'This has been a trying evening for both of us, Hermione. I think it's high time we went home.'

~~HGSS~

'Did you see the chap playing me?' Severus asked as they left the building, more to bridge the awkward silence that had grown between them anything else. 'Nothing like me, at all.'

'Hmm...' Hermione replied. 'He's a bit old, isn't he? But he's definitely got... something...'

Severus stopped and gaped at her. 'Don't tell me you fancy him?'

Hermione smirked. 'Had you going there for a minute, didn't I?' She sighed when he didn't smile back. 'Look... I'm sorry I overreacted earlier...really, I am...but it was just the final straw...' She reached for his hand. 'Am I forgiven?'

'There is nothing to forgive.' He gave her hand a squeeze. 'You had a nasty shock, after all.'

'You can say that again.' Stepping closer, Hermione stroked his cheek with her free hand. 'Severus, I don't know what's been going on here, and I do intend to investigate this, but we're supposed to be on a date. Now. There's a good Indian restaurant near my flat. What say we get a takeaway, hm?' She stood up on tip-toes and kissed him gently. 'Hm? Plan B. What do you think?'

And Severus had to agree it was a very good back-up plan, indeed. Clever witch.

A very cracky conclusion will follow:)