XIX

Thanks, as always, to Keladry and Southern for taking the time to read through this. Any mistakes herein are mine alone, though.

---

Hermione managed to storm her way through most of the castle on her temper alone. However, about the fourth staircase up, her indignant thoughts of "How dare he!" slowly turned to the more contemplative "Why did he," and by the time she reached her room, she'd reached several conclusions.

The most obvious one was that Severus was a miserable, horrible, no good, thoroughly rotten patient. When he was feeling sick or ill or off in any way, he achieved levels of crankiness, which were nearly unheard of in the land of normal people. She guessed that Voldemort probably had had the occasional bouts of nastiness to compare, but she quickly pushed that thought out of her mind, as she didn't feel comfortable comparing her husband to Voldemort.

To her knowledge, this was the second time she'd been around him in private while he was sick. Although this time he was much milder than he had been with the chickenpox, he was still oversensitive and moody and had a knack for pissing her off that only Ronald Weasley could have competed with.

It was a less than thrilling revelation. She hoped Severus wasn't prone to getting sick often, else their marriage was going to be a very rocky one.

The second conclusion was that he'd read more into what she'd said than she'd intended. She hoped this time it was just a side effect of being sick, but she needed to be careful about that in the future. She was pretty sure he'd been upset about her comment that the wedding dress was horrid, although why, she didn't know. Perhaps he thought she was commenting on their wedding or even being married. If that was the case, although she thought that was stretching meanings a bit too far, she could understand his defensiveness. However, she did think that it was a bit too far to reach, even for him, so she didn't think that was the case.

She supposed that he perhaps liked the dress, and so he thought she was insulting his taste when she insulted the dress, but the thought of Snape liking that monstrosity... It was preposterous. Wasn't it?

Of course, he possibly was fond of the dress for the same reason she was: sentiment. She could see him liking it solely because she'd worn it to marry him, just as she liked it because it reminded her of her grandmother and her youth. She couldn't add the wedding or being married to the list yet, but she hoped that she would be able to at some point. She supposed that when she insulted the dress, he had thought she was insulting the memories attached.

Bugger.

And then she came to revelation number three. He had tried to apologize. She wasn't certain of that, but she thought that when he changed topics back to the condition of her face, he was telling her he was sorry. He'd done it in a piss-poor way, but he had tried. Not only that, but she thought he might have been inviting her to visit him in the morning.

She cringed as she realized he must have been terribly busy, especially if his headache had wiped him out as he'd implied. He would have a lot of marking to catch up on. She cringed again when she reviewed what he'd said and found he hadn't actually kicked her out. She'd jumped to that conclusion all by herself. Granted his tone had been less than welcoming, but she guessed there were mitigating circumstances for that as well.

Well, if he'd been inviting her over, she'd made it perfectly clear that she wouldn't be coming. She lightly banged her head against her bedpost. She was an idiot. A rash idiot. And here she'd told Teddy that she wouldn't give up use of her brains.

Sighing, she made her way to bed, exhausted from all the emotional turmoil. She had to figure out some way to fix things. Probably going down there in the morning and apologizing would be the best course, even if it was the least appealing. His headache would probably be back, and he'd probably be as ill tempered as he had been that evening, if not more so.

But, she had helped make this mess, so she would help clean it up. The one thing she was happy about was that she knew Severus was an intelligent and...for the most part...rational human being. An apology would probably go a long way to making sure he remained rational.

Letting out an enormous sigh, she closed her eyes and tried to relax. It wasn't long at all before she fell asleep.

---

Due to the early hour she'd gone to bed, Hermione woke up early. Very, very early. Dawn was just making an appearance, and when she looked at the clock, she saw the hour hand hanging around the ungodly number of five.

She groaned and rolled over but found she was now wide awake. She stretched and yawned, noting that her face was indeed sore, as Severus had warned it might be. Thinking of Severus brought back the event of the day before, and then her mind was a-whirl with her current problem and how to solve it.

Finally, she decided it would be best to just head down to his room. Mornings were not her best time, but she figured that it would be better to get everything over with at the beginning of the day rather than let it hang over both their heads for the rest of the day. With any luck, she wouldn't wake him, but even if he was still asleep, she might still be able to get in if he hadn't changed the password since she'd moved out.

Thinking about it some more, she hoped that he was asleep, assuming she could get in. Then she could sneak in and get comfortable before the coming confrontation. He might even appreciate it. She would be prepared for his hexes, just in case he didn't, but it was possible he would see it as the sign of affection it was.

She pulled on her robes and made her way down into the chilly dungeons. About halfway there, though, she changed her mind. She had virtually no experience with Snape in the early mornings. Judging by his mood at every other time of the day, it seemed unlikely that he would be a morning person, and considering how grumpy she was in the morning, she thought that Snape could very well be dangerous if woken up or otherwise confronted at such an early hour.

So she changed course and went for a walk. She wanted to go outside, but it was early enough that it would be literally freezing outside, and she didn't feel like going back for her cloak. She supposed she could do a warming charm, but felt it would be better to stay within the castle in any case.

She walked and walked, exploring nooks she hadn't come across before while letting her mind wander from subject to subject, though most of them seemed to center on Snape. He was just so confusing, and she didn't know what to do about him or her reactions to him. For some reason, he inspired her temper like no other. Even Ron hadn't made her as instinctively defensive as Snape made her. But he also inspired other, more primal, reactions.

At times, she wasn't sure she liked who she was around him. At other times, she felt she had the potential to be her best when around him. He made her want to care again, and there was something utterly enticing about digging through his outer shell to care for the vulnerable person who lay beneath. She wanted to be the person to care for him, even as she thought that might not be the healthiest base for their relationship.

She found herself staring out an eastern facing window, watching the sky catch fire. Orange and red crept steadily across the clouds until they flared with yellow highlights as the sun made its way up. The fire died slowly, until finally the sun peeked above the horizon, and the colors vanished into the blue of the highland sky.

Hermione basked in the young sunlight for a few minutes before turning around and heading to the dungeons.

It was eerily quiet as she made her way down the stone corridors of the dungeons. She almost expected to hear water dripping in the distance, although she knew the charms on the dungeons kept them comfortably dry. Still, it was eerie, so she hurried forward and made her way to Severus' quarters as fast as she could without actually running there.

Once there, she knocked quietly on his door, not wanting to wake him if he was still asleep. After waiting a few seconds and hearing nothing, she recited the password and let herself in. She didn't know who was more surprised, herself at finding Severus awake and at his desk, or Severus, seeing her come in. Whether or not he was more surprised than she, he quickly recovered and bent his head down to complete his thought on the parchment. As soon as he finished writing, he moved the pile of marked essays on top of it.

While he finished up his work, she came in all the way and quietly closed the door behind her. As soon as he was done, she shyly said, "Hi."

He stared at her with hard eyes for a moment before responding. "Good morning."

He got up a bit stiffly, stretched his back and then moved over to the sofa. He indicated with a graceful twitch of his hand that she should join him. Going over, she chose to sit in the chair by the fireplace rather than beside him on the sofa.

"What brings you down here so early in the morning?" he asked, conjuring a boiling kettle at the same time as he summoned the tea service. He put the tea on to steep in the same precise manner as he made potions, and Hermione was so engrossed in watching his process that she almost forgot he had asked her a question.

"I thought that last night's conversation didn't end well, and I just... I didn't want to leave it there."

He nodded and although he seemed tired, he didn't look like he was upset, so she wasn't prepared when he said, "And, knowing me so well, you knew that I'd be awake and ready for a chat."

Hermione scowled at his snide tone. "No, I didn't know you'd be awake. I came down early so that I might have a chance to get comfortable before we started sniping at each other, but I see it's never too early for that."

Severus shot her a warning look. "As I recall, I didn't invite you in, madam. You broke in."

Hermione reined in her anger, knowing he was right. "You're right, of course," she said almost contritely, although her tone wasn't conciliatory when she added, "Shall I come back later when you might not be inconvenienced?"

"Drop the sarcasm, Hermione. It doesn't suit you."

His comment lacked bite, and he seemed more tired than before. Hermione's anger dissipated as her worry increased.

"I actually came to apologize for snapping at you last night and to thank you again for the burn-healing salve." Severus frowned but nodded in acknowledgment. Hermione continued. "I also wanted to... well, I guess I wanted you to know that I didn't mean anything by the dress comment."

He lifted his brows. "Why should I be bothered that you think the dress is horrid?" he asked with a small, tight smile.

"I don't know, but you seemed to be. And if you were bothered by it, I want you to know that all I meant was that the design itself leaves something to be desired."

"Ah, and here I thought it was the paragon of wedding attire," he said completely deadpan.

"You are joking, aren't you?" she asked hesitantly.

He snorted softly and said, "Yes, my dear. Have no fear. I am no more fond of frilly masses than you seem to be."

She let out an exaggerated sigh of relief and was glad to see his lips twitch in amusement. Thinking about it, she looked around for the dress but didn't see it anywhere. Suddenly, she was concerned that he might have tossed it out.

"Where is it, by the way?"

"What?"

"The dress."

He looked slightly uncomfortable and her fears increased. "I might have said it was horrid, but I hope you didn't throw it out or destroy it. After all, it does hold sentimental value."

He shook his head and stood up, gesturing for her to follow. He led her into the bedroom and pointed into the corner and there, in the same chair as before, was the dress, looking just as it had when she'd picked it up the night before. It struck her as an incredibly sweet sentimental gesture on Severus' part.

"Oh. Thank you," she said lamely.

He gave her a curt nod. "I knew it was your grandmother's."

"Yes." She looked at him and thought he still looked a bit uncomfortable. Deciding to chance it, she added, "But it is also my wedding dress."

His discomfort increased slightly, confirming her suspicions. Pleased, she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

He looked pleased, but even more uncomfortable and said rather sharply, "What a lot of fuss over this horrid thing."

She smiled. "Yes."

They made their way back into the sitting area and settled upon the couch. Severus poured their tea and they sat beside one another in an amiable silence. At least the silence was friendly to begin with, but after a few minutes, Hermione felt it was a bit strained.

She looked over at Severus, who seemed to be concentrating on his tea, though she guessed he was lost in his thoughts. He looked sad and tired.

"You look tired."

"I was up late marking," he said in a rather short tone.

"Ah." She felt awkward, as if he was deliberately subverting attempts at conversation. Annoyed, she was tempted to 'prattle' just to annoy him, but curbed that impulse. She had no desire to be malicious, even if it was tempting in the face of his bad manners.

Finally, after a few more minutes of awkward silence, Hermione asked, "What's wrong?"

His expression suddenly turned rather chilly. "Nothing."

"I don't believe you."

"Shall I award Gryffindor points for uncharacteristic perception?"

"Oh!...you... Perhaps you should dock me points for inappropriateness?"

He put his cup down and looked at her. "Perhaps I should."

"Severus, I just want to help."

He looked like he wanted to growl. "Of course you do," he said with quiet venom. "Of course you just want to step in and hold my hand and say soothing things, like 'Everything's going to be all right' and 'Don't worry, be happy,' and ignore the fact that it's none of your bloody business to begin with!"

"And how am I supposed to know that it's none of my business?" Hermione said back in a surprisingly calm voice. "All I know is that you're upset, you're avoiding me, and you are acting like the git you used to be."

"Of course I'm upset! Bloody Gryffindors are knocking at my door at all hours trying to save me from myself. I imagine you'd be upset, too!"

"That is not fair, Severus. All I offered was comfort."

"Comfort, curiosity, it's all the same bloody thing."

"You know bloody well that's not true!" she argued, starting to raise her voice. "I may be curious--"

"I'm actually surprised you're curious at all," he said, cutting her off. He shot up off the couch and started pacing, hands clenched at his sides. "After all, you're the lauded Gryffindor know-it-all. Surely you have a theory to share?" he said mockingly, his voice rising as well. "Tell me what's wrong with me! Go on."

Hermione pursed her lips at his sarcastic tone, but was too angry not to rise to the bait. She stood as well, though she stayed by the couch.

"Believe it or not, I don't know. It obviously has something to do with the trip to the Ministry, but I can't think of what it was that set you on edge. Of course, that's because I don't know enough about you to have a clue as to what might be wrong, and of course, that would be because you haven't told me anything, like, for example, what's wrong!"

"Was that all one sentence?" He raised his eyebrow mockingly.

"Severus..." she said in a warning tone.

"Don't take that tone with me, madam."

"If you insist on keeping me out of your life, then I must insist that you call me Miss Granger, since the word 'madam' implies that I might, in fact, have a spouse."

"It could also imply that you are a whore."

Hermione stepped back breathing hard. She took several quick, shallow breaths, trying to suppress the overwhelming need to cry.

"That was a joke," Severus said, noting her distress. He took a step toward her, but she backed up in reaction, so he stopped. "It was poor joke; I wasn't calling you a... I was illustrating the semantics."

"I'm sorry I married you," Hermione said as calmly as she could while restraining a sob. She turned to leave, but before her hand reached the handle, strong arms were around her, reeling her in to his chest, not letting go even as she struggled.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I am sorry!" Severus crooned into her hair. With her ear against his chest, she felt and heard his breath hitch.

"That wasn't just a joke," she cried, finally giving up her struggles of escape.

He rocked her to and fro and held her tighter to him. "I was being clever. I didn't mean it." He gripped her arms and pulled her far enough away to look her in the eyes. "Please forgive me, Hermione. I didn't mean it."

She looked at him for a painful, breathless minute, then shook her head. He let her go instantly, almost as if she had given him a shock. The despair and remorse that filled his face at her motion spurred her to speak quickly.

"I want to forgive you, but, Severus, I'm not going to be your whore in any respect. You cannot toss me aside when it suits you. You can compartmentalize your life all you want, but you have to accept that I am not going to stay in a box of any size or shape."

"I refuse to corrupt you with the secrets of my soul," Severus said forcefully. "If that is what you are asking of me..."

She shook her head. "No. I don't want your secrets. I'll admit I am curious, but I will never demand you tell me your secrets. However, if something is wrong and it is because of a secret, you need to give me a reason not to go there. You can't just shut me out altogether and then insult me when I start to pry!"

He sank down onto the sofa, resting his head in his hands. "And I get no privacy? No time for rumination?"

She sank down onto the coffee table in front of him. "Not if it means you shut me out of your life all together. I'll give you all the time in the world, but only if you give me some of your spare time in return."

He bowed his head. "I've been giving you all my spare time," he muttered, head still bent.

She sniffed, overwhelmed by everything. "You weren't here this weekend, and I missed you."

He looked up. "I've been in the castle the entire time."

"Your body has, but on Friday, when your body was having tea with me in my room, you weren't there. Saturday not even your body was there to walk me to my room, and yesterday... Yesterday you went from here to not here in a heartbeat, and I left feeling more alone than I had on Saturday. Same thing this morning." She sniffed again. "Besides which, you'd asked for time on Friday, and although I missed you and wanted to see you, I didn't want to seem like I was pushing you, so I stayed away."

"And coming down here and pressing me for answers doesn't constitute being pushy?"

Hermione stood to leave, but Severus caught her arm and pulled her down to sit beside him. He looked at her, his eyes miserable. "I've always been an all or nothing person, Hermione. That's who I am."

"How is that an explanation?"

He looked away as if searching for answers. "I'm not... If a problem is on my mind, then it consumes me. I will spend all of my time trying to solve it."

"So you do nothing but obsess on it, day and night?" Hermione asked, eyes narrowed slyly.

"Nothing."

"Not eat or sleep or teach?"

He looked back at her through his own narrowed eyes. "You know very well I meant spare time."

Hermione bit her lip until she could control herself. "And what am I? Where do I fit into your schedule?"

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." She paused to control her breathing, sensing she was on the verge of sobbing again. "I mean, how do I rate on your scale of importance? Above rounds but below obsessing? Or perhaps rounds are more important as well?"

"That's part of my job, Hermione," Snape said warily. "And to answer your question, you rank very highly, probably just below breathing."

"Then why do I feel like I'm underneath Filch?"

Severus's eyes shot open and he paled. "That is a thoroughly disgusting thought, Hermione!"

Hermione wondered about his reaction until she reviewed her words and realized the double entendre. She then caught Severus' eye and they grimaced at the same time.

Something about that struck her as funny, and she started giggling.

"It isn't funny," Severus said, still looking ill.

"Yes," she countered, nodding vigorously as she laughed harder, "it is!"

"No, it isn't," Severus said, though his lips were starting to twitch. "Filch and sex is a vile idea at the best of times, and the thought of you mixed in..."

Hermione laughed even harder even though the subject was thoroughly disgusting. Perhaps it was because most students felt the same way about Severus. That thought – and the subsequent thought that maybe Filch wasn't as horrid as he seemed, either – calmed her down.

"You're right, of course," she said, not looking at him directly. "But you are the one who brought it up."

"I beg your pardon!" Severus cried, insulted. "You were the one who mentioned him."

"But you were the one who has the filthy mind misinterpreting what I say," she said with a slight twinkle.

Severus didn't say anything, though he did look a bit shifty, as if he'd been caught out.

"Severus, why do I have the feeling that you were goading me?"

His lips twitched. "You know as well as I do the reason to that."

"Because you insist on riling me up?" Hermione growled.

"No. Because you're paranoid."

Hermione laughed in surprise. "Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean you're not out to get me," she said, still laughing.

"But I've already got you," Severus said, twining an arm around her and pulling her closer.

Hermione pulled away and stood up, her good mood gone. "Have you, though?"

He sighed, frustrated. "I had hoped that marrying and courting you would do the trick, but perhaps I was misinformed about that."

"Then why aren't you courting me?"

"Excuse me?"

Hermione frowned in his direction, although she wasn't frowning at him specifically.

"You were courting me up until we left for the Ministry on Friday. You've been everything I could ask for, even throwing in a bit of romance with that lovely rose and letter. Then the trial comes up and that vanishes alongside you. After a couple days alone, I try to find out where you've gone, and..."

She sighed. "I want my beau back."

She focused on him, easing her frown as she did so. "It may seem utterly selfish, but I want you paying attention to me. I also want to learn more about you, especially as you were just getting really interesting, but you're not making it easy."

"Some things are private," Severus growled.

"Very true. And let them stay private. But please, don't spend all your time obsessing on private matters. It doesn't help me feel like you want me in your life, which I've always thought was the purpose of courting."

Silence met that, though it wasn't hostile. After a long pause, Severus said, "Indeed."

"Thank you. So, next time please tell me it's private, and I won't pry." She paused, then added, "Oh, and if you call me a whore again, even if it is in jest, I'll hex you into next week and won't forgive you so easily."

"Does that mean that you forgive me this time?"

Hermione made a reluctant face, then nodded. "Yes. But that was still very bad form."

He'd stood up as soon as she nodded and came over to stand in front of her. "Yes, it was, and I promise I shan't do it again."

He then wrapped his arms around her in an almost painfully tight hug, which she relished despite the squeezing. It made her hopeful that he wouldn't retreat again. She did, however, find it a bit difficult to breathe, and she made a slight noise of distress. He immediately loosened his hold, but he didn't let go. Instead, he cradled her against his chest, holding her like a precious treasure. At that moment, she felt so loved and cherished, she started crying.

She let out a shuddering breath that caught Severus' attention. He pulled away and tilted her chin up to see her better. She knew she must look a mess, but she smiled up at him anyway.

He scowled in response, even as he tenderly wiped her cheeks dry with his thumbs.

"What's wrong now?"

She shook her head, still smiling. "Nothing."

"You cry over nothing?"

"No, but nothing's wrong."

He looked a bit upset and hurt, and she guessed he thought she was lying to him. Instead of explaining her feelings and voicing things she wasn't ready to face yet, she merely smiled again and then kissed him.

He hesitated for two seconds before he took her face in his hands and started kissing her back. When he did, she melted into his embrace, savoring the way his lips moved over hers, feeling like silk as he ghosted across her skin. It was gentle and tender and completely frustrating.

She pressed herself against him, trying to deepen the kiss, but he backed away, never enough to lose contact, but enough to keep it light. She tried again, and he reacted the same, though this time he let out a slight chuckle as he retreated.

She pulled back, breaking their kiss, and scowled up at him.

"What game are you playing?" she asked, trying to be upset, though it was hard in the face of his obvious delight.

He said nothing, but pulled her close and lowered his lips hers again. It was the same light, teasing kiss as before, but this time she didn't move to deepen it. He made a noise of approval, deep in his throat, then stroked her hair and her face and continued lower until his hands had crept down to her bum and came back up until they rested at her waist.

And then, just as she was starting to get irritated with the light kisses, he tightened his grip and pulled her to him, deepening their kiss as he did. She responded with equal feeling, and soon they were melded against one another, trying to devour the other in their need to get closer.

She had no idea how long they had been kissing, nor when they had positioned themselves on the sofa, but there they were, she on her back and him on top of her as he lazily stroked her hair and continued kissing her as if his life depended on it. Although, at this point, he wasn't quite as fervent with his lips since his attention had shifted to what his hands were feeling.

She was enjoying his hands as well, very much in fact. When his hand brushed against her nipple, she let out a moan of approval, which only encouraged him to spend more time there. But then a noise from the bedroom jarred her attention away from Severus' ministrations.

"That sounded like a phone!" she exclaimed, breaking away from his kiss. She looked at him curiously, though the curiosity was temporarily shelved when she saw how red and swollen his lips had become. It was a beautiful sight, especially when they lifted up at the corners into a soft smile.

He chose to ignore her question and started kissing her some more, which she willingly submitted to until she heard the buzzy, ringing noise again, this time twice.

"Severus, what was that?" she asked, this time not letting him distract her with another kiss.

"It's my alarm. Breakfast is over."

"What?" she exclaimed, shoving Severus to the side in her quest to sit up. "I'm going to be late!"

Severus, however, wasn't letting her go so easily. He grabbed her shoulders and brought her back to the couch and pinned her down, smiling as he did so.

"But I've only just begun, my dear," he purred before kissing her more purposefully than before. Her body responded eagerly enough, but her mind was fairly quick to recover control.

"Severus," she panted having escaped his lips, "If I don't leave now, I'm going to be late!"

"So?" he asked, nibbling on her ear.

"So, if we're both late for our classes, people will talk!"

"So?"

"So I'd rather we not draw attention to ourselves!"

He withdrew enough to look at her clearly. "In case it escaped your notice, we are married. Married couples are expected to have intimate moments now and again."

"Yes, but do you really want your students to speculate on that?" she countered.

She was mostly pleased when he scowled, heaved a big, hard-done-by sigh and released her. "Fine," he said petulantly as he sat up. "Wouldn't want to terrify the little blighters anyway. I've enough melted cauldrons as it is."

She smiled at him as she stood up and straightened her robes, which were now creased. Darting forward to give him a quick peck, she took one look at his mussed hair and red lips before realizing she must look even more ravished. Feeling panicked about the time, she darted through his bedroom and into his bathroom.

She thanked the heavens that she'd thought to check because she was a mess. Her hair was hopeless, her robes wrinkled and her lips looked bruised, they were so swollen. It also was pretty obvious that Severus hadn't shaved by the condition of her skin around her mouth.

She was about to cast a few healing charms when a bottle of lotion presented itself before her.

"Murtlap lotion will work just as well," Severus explained, lowering her wand from her face. As he poured a portion onto his hand, he added, "And with less risk of mishap."

She had forgotten about the lotion, but she eagerly reached for it only to have him keep it away from her.

"Tch, tch," he teased, raising an eyebrow. "Patience is a virtue."

"I don't have time to be virtuous right now," she muttered, still trying to reach the bottle.

His smile quirked into a lascivious smirk. "Is that so? How about a sin or two?"

She gave up reaching for the bottle with an aggrieved sigh. "There's even less time for that," she said.

He twisted his face into a rueful look. "Pity." He then gently, but efficiently, coated her face with the murtlap lotion. She was surprised how much better it made her feel, even if it did leave a shiny gloss making her look like she'd been sweating copiously.

"Thank you, sweetie," she said distractedly, pecked him on the cheek and was out the door in seconds. She was so intent on getting to her class on time that she didn't even register the look of shock Severus showed at her new term of endearment. She certainly didn't see the slow, ecstatic smile that had crept across his face, as she was halfway to her room before it came to fruition. She did hear rumors later that day from anxious students, however, that said Professor Snape had been caught smiling to himself when he thought no one was looking.

That, apparently, unnerved some people. Especially the ones who had seen him. She supposed she had a bit of sympathy with them because it was one thing to see him being chivalrous to his wife, quite another to imagine him actually being happy. It was like a one-way portal to an alternate universe.

She, herself, found that she was also quite prone to smiling, but no one commented on that. Or, she was smiling until she made it to Arithmancy. She had handed in her paper with a smile, but it died at the frosty reception in which Professor Vector received it. Fortunately, Teddy was there to offer her a comforting hand squeeze before class got underway, but it still hurt to know that Vector's opinion of her had changed so dramatically over something Hermione herself couldn't help. It had been the logical choice to marry Snape, after all. Surely Vector could see that.

But no matter what logic dictated, Vector was horrid to her, so it was a somber Hermione who descended to the Great Hall for dinner after having retreated to her room for some solitude. She was so distracted that she almost missed Severus' call.

"Ms. Granger!" he said, having raised his voice to be heard over the din. She looked up and was surprised to see him standing by the open doors, frowning at her.

"Yes?" she said as she made her way to him through the crowds.

He didn't respond except to hand her an envelope. As soon as it was in her hand, he gave a short bow and headed off to the staff table, robes billowing behind him dramatically.

She fingered the letter and kept looking over at him as she walked to her seat, not really paying attention to anything around her. He'd looked rather cross, but she couldn't think of anything that might have made him cross. Unless he'd heard the rumors. And then it was his own fault.

But he was known for being unfair...

Hesitantly, she opened the envelope and took out the parchment within. Scrawled across the top of the page was a note, saying:

Your presence this morning interrupted the completion of this note in its original intent. It also made it rather redundant, but upon rereading it, I found that I was reluctant to just let all my work composing it go to waste. - S

Hermione,

You've just left here, and unless I am much mistaken, you are upset. I suspect that it is due to something I said or, more likely, how I acted.

I am not going to apologize, however. You cannot expect me to apologize for getting upset when you come bothering me with matters that anyone else could help you with. I am a very busy person, after all.

True, I told you that I was lying down, but I was busy doing that. In fact, I'll have you know that I was very happy being perfectly miserable when you came in. And you ruined everything by being comforting and pleasant. You even had the gall to ease my pain. Such nerve!

So, dear wife, can you not see how I was perfectly entitled to take such a cool tone with you. You had disarmed me, stripped me of my hobby and then insulted my chambers as mussed with a horrid object. No. I will not apologize for my tone. Especially as the horrid object in question belongs to you. And, worse still, you left the object here, reminding me of your presence and all that you have done to me these past few weeks.

I find it rude for you to even expect an apology, as I'm sure you do.

However, I can understand your mood might be affected as much by your injury as by my actions. I do hope that you don't suffer any more than you have on account of that burn. I suppose, if you must, you may come to me for the murtlap lotion, as I believe it is not something that Poppy keeps stocked. But don't expect me to appreciate your intrusion into my brooding nature.

Reluctantly yours,

Severus

PS: Perhaps next time you come by at an unreasonable hour, you will at least be courteous enough to refrain from arguing until we have finished the tea. It is terribly uncivilized to let the tea go cold.

Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The note was such a perfect representation of Severus that she was tempted to do both. Before she could do either, however, her thoughts were interrupted.

"What's that?" Ginny asked.

Hermione looked up. Her face was flushed, and her eyes were probably sparkling with tears; it must have looked bad, for Ginny frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied and gave in to the urge to smile, though she also sniffed. "Absolutely nothing."

"Happy tears?" Ginny asked, her frown receding.

Hermione laughed at Harry's confused scowl as he joined them. "Something like that, although it's a lot more... It's just a lot more."

Ginny smiled softly, then turned her attention to Harry, leaving Hermione alone to reread her note and consider whether the post script was the invitation she thought it was. By the time Severus came to escort her to her room for the night, she decided that she wouldn't ask him if it was; she would just show up.

On the whole, it was a happy Hermione who went to bed that night, lips swollen once more from Severus' parting kisses. She fell asleep thinking that perhaps the Fates weren't the cruel harpies she'd thought them to be not so long ago.