Chapter Two: If At First You Don't Succeed...

Disclaimer: The characters and settings belong to JKR. I just took them for a little outing.

Chapter Two: If at First You Don't Succeed...

After seeing Snape passing at the same time every morning the previous week, Hermione deliberately avoided the comfy couch and took her cup outside to one of the small, round tables on the footpath. Placing herself at one of the outer tables, she waited for him to appear.

Sure enough, at exactly seven forty-five, the black-clad wizard appeared around the corner. Schooling her features into calm, she smiled and nodded when his eyes met hers as he passed. Cold, dark, and bitter, they betrayed a mere flicker of surprise as he continued walking without pause.

For two weeks, Hermione persisted with a simple acknowledgement; her only reward a scowl, a glare, or occasionally a harrumph as he passed. Once, she was certain she detected a minute quirk of his eyebrow. He must have been in an exceptionally good mood that day.

"Why doesn't he speak, Harry? Were we that awful at Hogwarts?" she complained one evening.

"Must have been to him. Horrible, brash Gryffindors, we were." Harry grinned. "And you were the worst of the lot, Miss Know-it-all Handwaver."

"I was not! He hated you the most, Potter!" Hermione scowled as Harry simply laughed.

"Maybe he did. But what do you want him to do? Sit down for coffee and tell you the story of his life?"

"As interesting as that would be, no. Just a smile... Oh, shut it, Harry. I'm sure he's capable. A nod. Something to say he knows I'm a person, not a flobberworm he's scraped off his boot."

"Always one for high ideals, Herm. Hey, he could always have started walking on the other side of the street. He must fancy you!"

"Oh, very funny, Potty. Next thing you'll be telling me you fancy shagging Dolores Umbridge."

Harry shuddered. "Now, that was uncalled for. You're a cruel witch, Hermione Granger."

"You know you need someone like me to keep you grounded. Wouldn't want the saviour of the wizarding world to get too cocky."

"Yes, dear."

"Good answer, Harry. You're learning."

Hermione's obsession with Severus Snape grew as the days passed without any response from the dour wizard. She had been certain he would give in and speak eventually, if only to order her to sod off and leave him alone. The quiet snort which erupted into her pre-dinner glass of wine was met with a curious stare from her housemate.

"What's funny?"

"Nothing."

"Must have been something; you nearly inhaled your wine."

"If you must know, I was wondering why Snape hasn't told me to get out of his line of sight yet."

"Oh. Snape."

"What do you mean, 'Oh, Snape,'?" She frowned at Harry's resigned expression.

"It's just he is all you ever talk about nowadays. I know you feel sorry for him, but I... I dunno..." He shrugged and without any further explanation left the room.

Hermione's determination not to ask eventually lost the battle with her curiosity. Harry had been unusually quiet over dinner, watching her with an odd expression, and had been lounging on the couch since his shower, clad only in his favourite, tatty towel.

"What?" she asked after the umpteenth soft sigh.

"Pardon?"

"What's the problem, Harry? You've been behaving out of sorts all evening."

"Oh. Well, I've been wondering... It's probably crazy, but... do you think we could ever... you know...?"

"No, I don't know. We could ever what?"

Harry blushed and rose to stand before the fireplace. "Do you think we could ever be more than best friends?"

Hermione studied him as he shuffled from foot to foot. "Do you want more, Harry?"

"That's the thing. I don't know. I know I love you and you love me. We've always assumed we're only friends, but how do we know it's not more if we don't try?"

"But what if it changes everything? Ron..."

"Yeah. I know."

"Besides, then I couldn't slop around like this," she indicated her old dressing-gown and slippers, "and you would definitely have to shower before dinner and stop running around in only a towel."

"What? Are you saying I pong?" Harry tried hard to look offended.

"Yes, when you get home from work, you're usually quite whiffy." She screwed up her nose and grinned.

"Why haven't you said anything before?"

"I have. You just haven't taken the hint. But don't worry, I'm used to it. I'd kick you out of the kitchen if you were too high."

Harry rolled his eyes, then finally realised what else his friend had implied. "And the towel thing. Does that mean...?"

"I'd probably want to jump you all the time if we had that sort of relationship and you kept running around half-naked." She grinned.

The dark-haired wizard smiled for the first time that evening as he posed. "So, you think I have a good body?"

"Harry, you know you have a great body. Any woman would be pleased to get her hands on it. Although, for all I know, you might be as lacking as Ron in certain essential departments." Hermione brought her thumb and index finger together two inches apart.

"Oi! I'll have you know I'm perfectly well endowed," he retorted.

"All right then. Prove it. Drop the towel," she challenged.

Much to Hermione's surprise, Harry obeyed. Impressed despite herself, even though the topic of conversation had obviously helped, she sighed. "Okay, you can put the towel back on now. I'm done."

"Pervert!"

"Exhibitionist!"

"It was okay, wasn't it? It's just... I've never had a chance to ask a girl before." Harry was still in need of some reassurance.

"Magnificent, Harry. Haven't seen one better." She rolled her eyes. Men. They were all the same.

"Like you've seen a lot of naked men."

"Well, I've seen Ron's and Charlie's. And it's not only you boys who look at magazines, you know," Hermione admitted.

"Charlie? I don't remember you ever going out with him." Harry frowned, thinking he'd missed something important.

"I didn't. I walked in on him in the bathroom at the Burrow when I was sixteen. Awfully embarrassing it was, too."

"Didn't stop you having a good look, I'll bet," Harry teased, resuming his position on the couch.

"I was embarrassed, not blind."

"So, Ron's was..."

"Smaller. Happy?"

"Yeah." Harry couldn't stop the wide grin appearing on his face.

"Mind you, it's not how big it is, it's how you use it."

"I don't mind practising," Harry offered helpfully.

"Oh, go to bed, you idiot!" Hermione slapped him on the arm as she passed to take the cups back into the kitchen, the enormous what if stamped on her awareness carefully hidden.

Thinking of her best friend as a man rather than simply Harry kept her tossing and turning long into the night, to finally wake sweating, breathless, and confused after dreams of not one, but two dark-haired men.

The next morning found Hermione fussing with her hair before she went down for breakfast. Fastening a recalcitrant curl back with a clip, she muttered under her breath, "Dammit, I never used to bother. Why did he have to bring it up now?" The awareness that their unspoken but mutual avoidance of the issue of their relationship had been irrevocably breached was terrifying yet exciting. Hermione hesitated in the hall, taking a fortifying breath before opening the door to the kitchen to find the tea brewed and her plate already loaded with scrambled eggs and bacon. Peering around the door to see if there had been an overnight invasion by house-elves, she only found Harry: clean, tidy, and wearing an apron.

"What's the occasion, Potter? Or have you been subjected to too many misfired spells at work lately?" Humour was the best defence against the conflicting emotions threatening to give her the headache from hell.

"Nothing like that. I decided if I wanted to convince you I could be suitable as a boyfriend rather than a housemate, I'd better look after you better." His hesitant smile endeared him to her even more.

"Oh, Harry. Are you really serious about this? You want to take the risk?" Hermione studied his face closely as he poured the tea.

Clear, green eyes regarded her steadily as he met her gaze. "I think we have a good chance of working out as a couple. We've already proven we can live together without trying to hex each other over every difference of opinion, we like the same movies, and we can even have the occasional intelligent conversation." Harry listed some of the points he had prepared earlier while cooking the eggs.

"I suppose that's a lot more than I can say for my relationship with Ronald," she replied. Hoping she wasn't about to ruin the best friendship she'd ever had, Hermione continued, "All right, Harry. You have a month to convince me. Just remember, I'll be taking notes."

"I wouldn't expect otherwise, Herm. You'll probably bloody grade me!"

Half an hour later, Harry's words were still circling through her thoughts as Hermione sat at the café. When she saw Snape, she smiled as usual, met his eyes, and returned to her musings until startled by a smooth voice in her ear.

"Why?"

Turning to find Snape looming over her, an odd expression on his face, she replied, "Why what, Professor?"

"I'm no longer your professor, and why do you smile at me?" he asked, scowling.

"Why not? People usually smile at acquaintances who pass by."

"Not in my experience." He pulled up a chair and sat, studying her silently for a minute or two.

"Perhaps your experience is not representative of humanity in general, sir."

"Most likely." His sudden departure without a backward glance was unsurprising. He was Snape.

Hermione stared after the retreating black figure and shook her head. At least he had spoken this time. It seemed she was destined to have confusing relationships with men.

"Hermione? Hermione!"

"Oh, sorry, Reggie, I was miles away." She frowned at her own weakness. Being caught fantasising about stimulating conversations with Severus Snape only served to underline the lack of challenges she faced at work.

"I noticed. Do me a favour, love, and fetch some sandwiches. I'm dying of starvation here. All this damned paperwork." He brandished the sheaf of papers Hermione had spent hours dealing with earlier which were merely awaiting his signature.

"Of course. Wouldn't want you falling behind this afternoon due to lack of adequate nutrition. Back in a jiffy." Wouldn't want you falling asleep during your chess game with Douglas from Filing. Rolling her eyes as she left the office, Hermione took her time strolling to the staff dining room and placing the order with the house-elves in attendance. It wasn't as if Reggie would miss her unless one of the dozen or so witches or wizards he usually tried to avoid called by.

Turning off the heat under the potatoes and checking the sausages, Hermione took a moment to flick her wand at her clothes to remove any food splatters. The dining table was set with a tablecloth for once, and even the cutlery matched. She wasn't trying to impress Harry. Really. But after much introspection, between imaginary philosophical discussions with Snape, she had decided to give Harry a little encouragement.

Five minutes later, the wizard himself rushed in from upstairs, hair still damp and fully dressed.

"That's a pity," Hermione declared as Harry poured the wine.

"What?"

"You're dressed." The twinkle in her eyes could have outshone Albus Dumbledore.

"I'm trying to be respectful, Miss Pervert."

"Spoilsport. How do you expect me to imagine you as a sex god if you cover up all your finer attributes?" She moved behind his chair and ran her hands over his well-formed biceps.

"Here I was thinking you were a sweet innocent, and all along you've been ogling my wares." Harry leaned back into her touch and sighed.

"Well, a girl's got to have some thrills. It's not like I've had many offers lately."

"I suppose I should be grateful for that. Mind you, you're still obsessing over Snape. I'd hate to think I had competition," Harry growled as her cheeks flushed. "I do, don't I? You fancy him!"

"Do not. I think he's fascinating, is all," she explained.

"Ask him to join you for coffee."

"I thought you didn't want competition." Hermione was confused at her friend's sudden change of tactic.

"I don't. What better way to eliminate him than have you spend a few minutes talking to him. It's not like he has suddenly developed social skills or anything." Harry smirked.

"I might just do it, then. And you might be surprised, Harry James Potter."

Harry laughed and filled his plate. "Herm, so might you."

When Snape appeared the next morning, Hermione decided to call Harry's bluff. "Good morning, sir." His slight nod as he approached gave her the confidence to continue. "Would you like to join me for a coffee?" Despite his brusque, "No, thank you, Miss Granger. I have work to do," she did not miss the slight faltering of his stride and his quickly suppressed expression of astonishment.

Three mornings, three invitations, and two curt excuses later, Snape finally agreed.

"Oh, very well. If you insist. Although, I have no idea why it is you appear so interested in my company." His protests were belied by the trickle of warmth in his dark eyes as he sat, disgruntled, at the small café table and ordered a coffee, black, no sugar."

"That would be an espresso, sir," the waitress explained patiently.

"Fine. Bring me one, then." Snape's snarl had the girl scurrying off back to the kitchen.

"Are you sure you don't need any sugar?" Hermione dared.

"Quite, Miss Granger. My disposition does not improve with sweeteners, I assure you."

"No, I suppose not. Perhaps a muffin?" she countered.

"I'm sure you didn't invite me to sit here just to ply me with food. Now, what do you want, girl?"

"Civility would be a good start, sir."

"Don't push your luck, Granger." Snape's coffee arrived, and he took a sip. "Merlin, how do they make this stuff? It tastes nothing like the coffee at Hogwarts."

"That's because the coffee at Hogwarts is weak and poorly brewed. That's real coffee. Personally, I prefer the milder flavour of this latte, with a spoonful of sugar to counteract the bitterness, but you appeared to know better." She glanced at his face from under her lids and caught a slight upturn of his lips before he schooled his expression into its usual dour lines.

"Obviously not." He summoned the waitress and requested the same drink Hermione was enjoying. Upon tasting the new beverage, complete with sugar, he nodded, then finished it without another word.

"Better?" she asked.

"Indeed. Good day, Miss Granger." He stood and left without awaiting her reply.

"Good day to you too, Snape," she spoke into the empty space beside her.

A/N: This was written for southern_witch_69 in the 2010 SSHG Exchange on LiveJournal. Many thanks to karelia for her amazing beta skills.