Chapter Two: Tea and Conversations

Disclaimer: The characters and settings within belong to J.K.Rowling. I am just giving them a little outing.

Chapter 2: Tea and Conversations

"What happened after Hermione left him the chocolate? Did he tell her what was happening?"

"No, dear. He was busy trying to find out what Draco Malfoy was up to, much as Hermione and her friends were doing. Things carried on much the same for some weeks until the day of her Apparation test. Many years later, Hermione realised that was the day their relationship really started."

Hermione walked along the corridors, wondering whether Harry was having any luck obtaining the memory from Horace Slughorn. Using the Felix Felicis was the best chance he had. They seemed to be stalled in their search for information, but hoped the memory Dumbledore so desperately wanted would be the key to understand just what Horcruxes were.

Reaching Snape's door at the end of her rounds, she knocked softly.

"Enter," he called.

"Good evening, sir."

Surprisingly, he stood and ushered her into the room. "Good evening, Miss Granger. Please, sit down."

She sat, curious as to the change of routine.

"Would you like some tea?" he asked, as if it were a perfectly normal thing for him to suggest.

"Er... yes, thank you," she replied.

After pouring the tea and passing Hermione a cup, Snape sat back in his chair and studied the girl before him for some time while they sipped. Eventually, he spoke. "So, how did you fare with your Apparation test?"

"I passed first time." She grinned with pride.

"Congratulations. Not that anyone would have expected otherwise."

Hermione's baffled expression at the Defence professor's pleasantries was apparently a source of amusement for the dark wizard. "Miss Granger. You appear surprised. Am I so poorly mannered that I surprise you with a little compliment?"

Her mouth took charge before her brain could override. "Well, sir... Yes, you are usually." Horrified, she clapped her hand over her mouth and awaited the expected points loss and detention for impertinence. To her surprise, his lips merely formed a self-deprecating quirk, and he nodded in agreement.

"I suppose I deserved that. Although, I would appreciate it if you kept that to yourself." He frowned slightly as he finished his tea. "I'm sure you have rounds to finish now, Miss Granger. Good night."

Still bemused, Hermione drained her cup and stood. "Thank you for the tea, sir. Good night." Opening the door, she looked over her shoulder to find Snape with a rare smile on his face as he watched her leave.

The memory of that smile carried her back to Gryffindor tower without any conscious effort. Harry had not yet returned, which was unsurprising – he had expected to be out rather late with Hagrid and Slughorn's love of conversation. No doubt he would relate his success, or lack of it, in the morning. Meanwhile, she had the odd behaviour of Snape to contemplate. What was he up to? Why the sudden pleasantness? Had he finally accepted she meant him no ill-will? Was he prepared to see her as a friend, rather than just an annoying student? Thoughts tangled in her brain until, with a sigh, she climbed into bed and bade them goodnight.

In Charms class the next morning, Harry explained all that had happened the night before. The evil nature of Horcruxes came as little surprise to Hermione. It had always been clear Voldemort would stoop to anything, however base, to further his insane ambition. The likelihood of six more Horcruxes being in existence was terrifying, but the knowledge was at least a start.

The news of Ron and Lavender's break-up had amused her, but that was not the only reason for her elevated mood that day. She had decided that with the simple act of offering her tea the night before, Professor Snape had demonstrated his view of her had changed. She finally felt her silent support of his efforts had been noticed and appreciated.

Katie Bell's return from St Mungo's had opened up another Pandora's box of questions without answers, and Harry's unrelenting obsession with Malfoy's activities was concerning. Classes and homework continued, and the extra hours spent in the library reading everything she could find on soul magic had so far been fruitless. She wished she could simply ask Snape for advice but knew she could not.

The soothing rhythm of her footsteps as she patrolled the corridors of Hogwarts on her rounds eased the turmoil of her thoughts. Her final stop at Snape's office became a highlight of the evening with the simple acceptance of his nod and smile as she poked her head around his door a balm to her overstimulated brain. He remained sarcastic and ill-tempered in class, but Hermione noticed as long as she kept her head down and worked quietly, she escaped unscathed.

One night, two weeks after her Apparation test, Snape bade her enter when she called by. Closing and warding the door behind her, he once again offered her tea. After a few minutes of congenial silence, he put down his cup. Watching her curiously, he asked, "Why?"

"Why what, sir?"

"Why do you come? What are you here for?"

Hermione flushed as she tried to explain without causing offence. "I just felt... after that night..."

He closed his eyes and sighed. "I don't need your pity, Miss Granger."

"No, that's not it. You just seemed so alone. I have known what you do since fourth year, and I had never realised how difficult it must be. To be disliked by everyone simply because you are doing such a bloody good job of the role you have to play. It's not fair. You deserve more appreciation and support and someone who gives a damn, and I know I am explaining this badly, but I give a damn, even if you don't want me to!" she cried vehemently.

Professor and student faced one another for long moments, pride warring with compassion, austerity resisting warmth until suddenly, with a gasp, Snape gripped his left arm.

"You must go. Now." Without waiting for her to leave, he turned and left the office by a door behind the desk.

Hermione stared at the door, presumably to his private chambers, long after his hasty exit. She knew the significance of what had just happened. The spy had been summoned to his other master to face the risk of betrayal and death at the slightest slip of his tightly held defences. Having studied a little about Occlumency after Harry's experiences the previous year, she understood how much magical and physical effort Snape would have to employ to maintain his shields around a Legilimens as powerful as Voldemort. With a shake of her head at her own foolhardiness, she poured herself another cup of tea and prepared to await his return. He might not be pleased to find her there on his return, but she was not abandoning him now.

Three hours later, a noise from behind the door stirred her from the light doze she had fallen into while reading one of Snape's Potions journals. Realising her professor had returned, she vanished the contents of the teapot and brewed a fresh pot from the hot water she had prepared and left under a warming charm earlier. As the door opened, she poured a cup and placed it on Snape's desk.

"I thought I told you to leave, Miss Granger," Snape growled, running his hands through his hair wearily.

"So you did. I chose to stay," she replied. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." His curt answer was belied by the way he dropped into his chair and closed his eyes.

"No, you're not. You're exhausted. And you can't sleep there." Without stopping to second-guess herself, she moved to his side and offered an arm. "Come on. Let me help."

"I don't need help, Miss Granger. Just leave!" he ordered.

"Not until I know you are resting properly," she retorted, determined to stand her ground.

"I'm not some errant first-year you have to hustle off to bed!" Despite his fatigue, Snape managed to imbue his protest with some of his usual vitriol.

"And I'm not going to leave until you cooperate, sir. Take points off me or give me detention if you feel the need, but I am helping you." As she spoke, Hermione led the protesting wizard through the door to his rooms.

"All right, all right. I'm going. You don't need to tuck me in!"

"I have no intention of doing that. But I will wait here for ten minutes, and then I am going to check you are in bed." She stared at him until he turned and headed for the bedroom just as her adrenaline-fuelled bravado left her trembling at what she had dared say to her professor. True to her word, she knocked on the door and peeked around it ten minutes later to see Snape bootless, but otherwise fully dressed, fast asleep on top of his bed. Smiling, she Transfigured a warm blanket from a cushion in the sitting room, tucked it over him, then extinguished the lights. On the way out, she warded his chambers and his office with the best spells she knew and traipsed off to her own bed, amused she had ended up tucking him in anyway.

***

Hermione approached the Defence classroom with anxiety gnawing away at her self-confidence. Unsure of Snape's reaction to her once again bearing witness to his vulnerability, she looked to the professor himself for reassurance. The brief flicker of a smile as she entered the room ahead of her classmates lifted her spirits far more than she had expected. Sending the Slytherin Head of House to bed was not a task she had ever envisioned herself attempting and surviving it unscathed was surprisingly gratifying.

As the lesson on avoidance of hexes progressed, Hermione found herself duelling with Neville, who was performing tolerably well despite Snape's constant chiding. Shielding herself effortlessly, she made use of the unoccupied part of her brain to watch the Defence professor. Elegant and understated movements belied his speed and agility as he demonstrated the often forgotten tactic of simply dodging hexes rather than expending valuable magical energy blocking them.

After the practical part of the lesson was over and the class was industriously taking notes on the techniques they had practised, Hermione startled to hear a smooth, masculine voice in her ear.

"Exactly what was fascinating enough to make you ignore Longbottom's attempts to breach your shields, Miss Granger?"

Smiling infinitesimally, she turned to Snape. "I was simply admiring your technique. But don't tell anyone – I'd hate to ruin my reputation."

A soft snort was the only reply as he moved away, no doubt to torment poor Neville again. The realisation he had forgiven her for peremptorily ordering him to bed and was prepared to continue their odd, undefined relationship left her pondering its nature once again. Not friends by any means, yet more than teacher and student. Could she become friends with this acerbic, careworn wizard? Would he accept her as an equal outside the classroom? Did she want him to, or did she feel more comfortable with him as an authority figure? His role in the war had never been more vital with Voldemort building up his forces and Dumbledore needing all the information he could obtain, and hers as Harry Potter's best friend and research expert was equally demanding. Could two such disparate people develop enough trust to become true friends?

The previous night had shown he had some faith in her, falling asleep while she was still present and trusting her to ward his rooms securely. Hermione felt the warmth of his belief in her goodwill toward him as she wondered just how many other people he would have accorded the same privilege.

After dinner, she spent several hours studying, completing essays for both Charms and Transfiguration, and, of course, helping Harry and Ron create something coherent from their inky ramblings. Setting them the task of re-reading a chapter or two to get their facts straight, she put away her books and set off on her rounds. No-one ever asked why she was putting in extra time patrolling the castle – Hermione, the perpetual over-achiever, was simply expected to do these things. For once, her reputation worked in her favour.

A few desultory rounds of the most likely spots to find miscreants later, she headed for Snape's office and knocked quietly.

"Come in, Mother Granger," the professor called with a smirk.

"Mother Granger?"

"Well, if you must insist on mothering me, what do you expect?" he replied as he poured her tea and added milk and sugar just the way she liked it.

Hermione laughed outright at the preposterous notion of Snape being mothered. "Someone has to make sure you look after yourself, because you are doing such a bloody awful job of it!" she retorted.

"Yes, Mother." He sighed and rolled his eyes.

His mocking expression stirred Hermione's indignation. "In that case, I'll tell you what I really think." A raised eyebrow invited her to continue. "You don't eat enough, you drink far too much coffee in the mornings, and you need to relax more," she ordered.

"Relax? Fine chance of that in this job," he scoffed.

She knew he was not referring to his teaching duties. Placing her cup on the side table, she rounded the desk and positioned herself behind him. Reaching forward, she began to massage his neck and shoulders once again. "Maybe the job is not conducive to relaxation, but there is no need to be as tense as you are all the time," she soothed as he leaned back into her touch.

"Mmm. Yes, right there," he moaned as she found a knot in the muscle. "Where did a chit of a girl like you learn how to use your hands like that?" he asked.

"My dad gets a sore neck and shoulders from bending over his dentist's chair all day. Before I came to Hogwarts it was always my job after dinner to massage him. He loved it, but I guess the last few years he's had to make do with Mum."

"I can see why. You really have a talent for this." Straightening, Snape turned to meet Hermione's gaze. "Thank you, Hermione. You didn't have to do that."

"My pleasure, sir." Her eyes widened as she realised he had addressed her by her first name.

He appeared to realise his slip and apologised. "Forgive me, Miss Granger."

"No. It's OK. I don't mind you calling me by my name. I never did understand why professors here call the students Miss This and Mr That. It's so old-fashioned."

"We are an old-fashioned society, Miss... Hermione. Using the honorific maintains a distance between professor and student, which is considered desirable."

"Remus Lupin used our first names, and Hagrid does too." She looked at him curiously. "Would you rather keep that distance, sir?"

He studied her, one finger pressed to his cheek. "No. I don't believe I do. And you can drop the "sir" when you are here. Professor, or simply Snape will suffice. I don't think it would be appropriate for you to address me by my first name."

"Good heavens, no, Professor. I wouldn't dream of it." Hermione was horrified at the thought of speaking to Snape so familiarly. It was one thing to offer comfort and even a neck massage, just like she had done for her father, but entirely another to be addressing a teacher by his first name.

"Well, I'm pleased that is sorted out," he declared. "Now, the other problem. Whatever shall I do with you?"

"Do with me?"

"Have you swallowed some of those Weasley twins' Parroting Pastilles, Hermione? Never mind." He waved aside her protests. "I meant I am at a loss as to what to do about your apparent need to act as my nursemaid."

"First, I was your mother; now, I'm your nurse? Can't I just be your friend?" She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth, wishing only for the floor to swallow her whole. "Sorry... that was presumptuous of me. I'll just leave."

Snape looked startled at her admission. "No... Wait." Eyes peculiarly bright, he watched her intently. "A friend? Why would a student want to befriend me, of all people? Don't you know what that would do to that reputation you mentioned earlier today? Not to mention raising eyebrows amongst the staff and the Board of Governors and quite possibly causing Dumbledore to lose his only spy in the Death Eater camp?"

She met his gaze squarely, brown eyes meeting glittering black. "Firstly, why do you see yourself as not deserving friendship? Everyone needs someone who cares. Secondly, I would not suggest openly chatting in the hallways or meeting for sandwiches on the lawn. I'm neither stupid nor do I have a death wish. Associating openly with you would, I suspect, be as dangerous for me as it would be for you if certain factions found out. I have no wish for your true loyalties to be discovered, for both our sakes and the rest of the wizarding world. Why do you think I only ever come here late at night when everyone else is in bed and check the dungeon corridors thoroughly before even considering knocking at that door?" She sat back in her chair awaiting his reply.

"Hermione," he said, voice uncharacteristically quiet, "you aren't harbouring any... feelings... towards me? Because, if that is the case, I must insist you leave and not return. It would be most... inappropriate."

The laughter bubbled out of her before she could control it. "Feelings? You think I have a crush on you? Oh, dear. I'm half your age, Professor, and tall, dark, and striking you may be, but I fancy Ron. Unfortunately, he is an insensitive prat, but one day..." She sobered instantly at his slight frown. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it to come out that way. It just hadn't occurred to me to think of you like that. I do care, but not... you know. Can't we be friends? Merlin knows I could do with someone with an attention span longer than a gnat's to talk to."

Snape's relief lifted the corners of his mouth in a genuine smile. "I think I would like that. But absolute discretion is necessary. No-one, even your two idiot friends, must ever suspect you and I no longer hold each other in disdain."

"I think I can live with that," Hermione replied with a grin, handing him a piece of chocolate.

***

A/N: This was written for the Hermione Big Bang on LiveJournal, which celebrated Hermione's thirtieth birthday. Many thanks go to my friend and colleague, quaffswinegaily, who helped along the way, my beloved beta, ladyinthecloak, and my cheerleader, Michelle.