Chapter Four: The Possibilities are Endless

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Chapter Four: The Possibilities are Endless

"Honey, I'm home!" Harry called as he threw his robes over the hook in the hallway.

"How many times have I told you not to watch so many old American sitcoms, Harry?" Hermione chided. "Really, since we fixed the television to work here, you've done nothing but watch rubbish! There are plenty of decent programs on BBC2, you know."

Harry grinned. "Now, that's unfair. I get all the nagging of a relationship and none of the benefits. I could think of better things to do than watch television..."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione kissed his cheek and took him by the hand through to the kitchen. "Actually, I had a better idea. I was talking to Severus this morning, finally talking to him properly. Apparently, he was aware someone was holding his hand and stroking his face," at that she blushed, "while he was unconscious, but never knew it was us."

"Oh, Merlin. What did he say? I hope he wasn't too awful."

"No. That's the weird thing. He was grateful. He said he'd found it comforting, but when the Healers wouldn't tell him who had been visiting him, he believed he'd imagined us. That was why he was so angry that day. Harry, he was so stunned by the fact that anyone had cared enough to go and see him, it was as if he didn't believe he was worth anyone's time and attention." She felt tears gather again as she remembered Snape's reaction. "He was a little perturbed about my nose obsession, though."

"He was perturbed. Hell, Herm, I was perturbed enough for both of us! You really did have a thing about his bloody nose, love."

"Maybe. Anyway, I asked him if he would like to come to dinner with us. Do you mind?" Her watery smile pleaded for understanding.

"You've invited the competition around for dinner? That was brave of you, Herm." Harry chuckled at her bemused frown.

"Why was it brave?"

Harry's lifted eyebrow bore an uncanny resemblance to that of the wizard under discussion.

"Oh... So, you don't mind?"

"No, of course not. It will be good to see him again under more pleasant circumstances. When is he coming?" Harry asked.

"I'm not sure yet. He only agreed to think about it." She looked up into her friend's clear green eyes. "Why am I so nervous?"

"You really do like him, don't you? It's not just a joke any more." Harry's tone was gentle despite the weight of disappointment crushing his chest.

"I do, Harry." She reached up to cup his cheek. "But I love you. And I want you; I know that now. I think there's something wrong with me. I want you both. Does that make any sense? I mean, I barely know him, really, but..."

"You started falling for him when he was unconscious, or maybe it was the idea of him. The noble, self-sacrificing hero who gave up all hope of happiness and nearly life itself for us. Merlin, Hermione, I felt drawn to him too over those weeks. I thought I was going crazy."

"You did?"

"It was almost a relief when he woke up and pushed everyone away." Harry smiled as he remembered. "And now he's back, and we both have the opportunity to get to know him better. It's a bit scary, really."

Hermione laughed. "What, the great Auror Harry Potter is afraid he might like men?"

She squealed as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. The hardness she felt against her lower body left her in no doubt as to his preference.

"Perhaps the great Auror can be flexible. At the moment he's rather more interested in a certain witch of his acquaintance."

"Well, it seems we have ourselves a little problem. I fancy both you and Severus. You fancy me and maybe Severus. Severus was in love with your mother, and for all we know has a thing for house-elves now. We know now he appreciated our visits, but whether he's interested in either of us in any other way is a mystery." She frowned as the tangled web of possible relationships left even her prodigious brain baffled.

"Breathe, love. Let's wait and see if he accepts your invitation first. Then we can work out what he wants. If nothing else, we'll still have each other." He slid his hands lower, kneading her soft bottom and thrusting gently in counterpoint. "Of course, we could always practise a little in the meantime."

Hermione pulled away before her body betrayed her resolve to wait until Snape's inclinations were revealed. Harry's pout of frustration left her chuckling as she deliberately brushed her hand down the front of his trousers and squeezed him gently. "Soon, Harry. Soon. One way or another, you are definitely going to get to use that fabulous piece of equipment."

"Now, that really is a scary thought. I've never..." Harry blushed.

"You have so. Unless all your complaints about Ginny's expectations were fantasies."

"No, not that. I mean... with another bloke. I've never even thought about it."

It was Hermione's turn to redden as images of Snape and Harry together invaded her imagination. "Oh, gods, Harry. Stop it! I don't think I can take it!"

Harry's face fell. "Does it disgust you that much?"

"No, you idiot! The two men I want... together... naked... It turns me on that much!"

"Oh."

"Exactly. Now, can we please talk about something else for a while?"

The hours of weekend passed like treacle as Hermione wondered and waited for Monday morning. Finally, the day dawned, a few clouds hanging in the sky as if to watch the unfolding of the day.

Hermione looked up as Snape joined her.

"I hate weekends," he muttered without preamble.

"Why?" She caught the attention of the waitress with a raised hand. It appeared coffee was needed sooner rather than later. Snape's scowl and subsequent silence intrigued her. Reaching for his hand, she continued. "Come on, Severus. You can't make such a statement and then refuse to explain."

He sighed and lifted his head. For once, his expression was unguarded, unsure. "Hermione, since the war my life has been a matter of existing one day after the other. I didn't know how to live. All those years of playing a role, hiding my feelings, my fears, my very thoughts, left me socially inept, a misfit. My history as a Death Eater and Dumbledore's murderer has not endeared me to people, not that I blame them. I've tried to avoid inflicting myself on others as much as possible, and those I'm working with at St Mungo's appear to appreciate my efforts."

She squeezed his hand as his voice faltered, urging him to continue.

"These last few weeks... finding someone who wanted my company, even after I had scorned her advances..."

Tears threatened Hermione's composure once again as the depth of his loneliness sank home.

"I finally found a reason to wake up in the morning. A point to my existence. The few minutes we spend, just sharing coffee... Like I said, I hate weekends." His mouth lifted at the corner in a rueful acknowledgement of his own weakness.

"Well, I look forward to seeing you, too, Severus. More than I ever thought I would. I know I'm lucky; I live with Harry, so I'm not alone, but..."

"You live with Potter?" A mask slid over his expression as he withdrew his hand.

"Not like that, well, not yet."

"What do you mean?" The words were forced out through tight lips.

Honesty compelled her to explain. "We're thinking about reviewing our relationship."

"Oh."

The trace of disappointment in that single syllable spurred her on. "But, you see, there's someone else I'm interested in, only I don't know if he feels the same." She watched his face, willing him to understand without the need to spell it out.

His expression flickered from disappointment, to contemplation, to startled comprehension.

"Yes." Her almost whispered confirmation floated in the air between them.

"Yes." His answer was barely audible.

She looked into his eyes to find a hitherto unimagined vulnerability seeded with a glimmer of hope. Allowing her own insecurity to surface, she reached up to caress his cheek.

"Please come to dinner with us, Severus."

"Do you really believe Potter would desire my presence in his home?"

Hermione held back a smirk. "I think you'd be surprised at how welcome your presence would be. Don't forget, Harry spent weeks holding your hand and talking to you as well. He's looking forward to seeing you again."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Severus scowled. "A friendly Potter. I'm not sure whether I should be pleased or terrified."

"Well, as you were never one to show any fear, I suggest you go for pleased. And call him Harry."

"Harry." Severus tried out the sound of the young wizard's name. "I suppose I can manage that."

"Don't strain yourself, Severus. I think I prefer you whole and unharmed."

"That's more than I can say for most of the wizarding community," he muttered.

"I'm not most of the wizarding community. And neither is Harry. So, you will come?" She glanced up at his face, anxiety clouding her features.

"Very well. Tell me when, and I'll be there." He sighed. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather meet somewhere else, just you and I?"

"Certain. Although the idea does have a certain amount of charm. Perhaps another time?"

Snape's lips quirked in the closest Hermione had ever seen to a smile as he stood and took her hand.

"Until tomorrow." His eyes never left hers as he kissed her hand and strode off.

Much later, Severus Snape sat in contemplation of the morning's events. An unfamiliar, yet not unwelcome, feeling had stilled his hand as he reached for his customary glass of Firewhisky. She wanted him. The warmth of her regard had left him floundering for the rest of the day. Unaccustomed as he was to anyone seeking out his company, the knowledge that she liked him, and perhaps... perhaps more... His eyes closed as his imagination took him on a journey of love, fulfilment, and redemption. Maybe, just maybe, he was ready for it.

"Guess what, Harry?" Hermione had followed Harry up to his bedroom, eager to share her news.

"What, Herm?" Automatically shedding his clothes, Harry stood nude before her.

"Er, what?"

"Hermione, stop looking at my bits and tell me what you came up here for." Grabbing yesterday's towel from the back of a chair, Harry removed the distraction.

"Oh, sorry. Couldn't help myself. Anyway, Severus said he'd come. We only have to set a date."

"Great. She comes up here to tell me the competition is coming to dinner, and then she spends five minutes ogling my wares. You really are a pervert, Granger!" Harry rolled his eyes at his friend.

"And that bulge in the towel is your way of showing disapproval, Potter. Nice one." She grinned as she leered at the evidence of his disapprobation. "You know you're looking forward to it as much as I am. Now, off you go and make yourself presentable, and I'll go and finish dinner."

"Yes, miss. What's for dinner, anyway?"

He almost choked as she replied, "Oysters, asparagus, and truffles."

"That's a bit exotic, isn't it?"

"I'm just experimenting. They're all supposed to be aphrodisiacs, according to Muggles. I'm practising cooking them so we can feed them to Severus."

"How do you know they'll work?" Harry's doubt surfaced.

"They don't need to. He's a half-blood. He'll know what they're intended to do, and that will be enough."

Her self-satisfied smile brought a quirk to his lips. "Ron had one thing right. You truly are scary, Granger."

"Don't forget brilliant, Harry."

"Mmm. I don't know about the aphrodisiac qualities, but this is bloody delicious." Harry scraped the pot to salvage the last few mouthfuls of the risotto Hermione had concocted with the asparagus and truffles. "Although, I'm not sure about the raw oysters. Tasted a bit like seawater to me."

"Raw is best to stimulate the senses," Hermione explained, clearing the dishes.

"Just a suggestion, love, but I think that sort of meal might be a bit much for our guest on his first visit. You don't want to scare him away."

"But I thought it would send him the right message..."

"What, that you're after him for sex? Surely you want more than that? I know you, Herm. You need more than a quick shag. Hell, if that's all you wanted, you could have had me any time in the last few weeks." Harry's cheeky grin softened his words.

"Oh, give over, you idiot. I wouldn't use you for a quick shag either, you know that. I see what you mean though. As much as I'm starting to wonder what's under all those layers of his, I do care more for him than that. And, if I'm not mistaken, so do you." She smiled as his grin morphed into a more serious expression. "I don't even know why, Harry. You barely know him, really."

Hermione could have written a three-foot essay about the expressions dancing across Harry's face as he considered his reply.

"I think it was all those weeks sitting by his side. I know we didn't actually talk with Snape, but I spent a lot of time thinking about all those memories: his awful childhood, his friendship with my mother, the way my father and the others treated him. And then I thought of how many times he had stood there and protected me, even though my face and actions must have reminded him so much of my father. I realised the man lying there unconscious was a good man, an incredibly brave and powerful wizard, and someone I could trust.

"I don't know, Herm. All this talk of competition, and who wants to shag whom is really beside the point. I just want to get to know the man I discovered in St Mungo's. I think even if you chose him over me, I'd be happy if we could all be friends." Harry's conclusion, a surprise even to himself, was simple in its sincerity.

"Oh, Harry. I don't want to have to choose between you both. Let's find out if we can all be friends first before we explore any other possibilities." She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. Resting her head on his shoulder, she sighed. "I really think you should start thinking of him as Severus though, love. I'm sure that will help."

Harry hugged her back then kissed the top of her head. "I'll do that. Now, I suppose as you cooked, I have to wash up. Do you think there are any dishes in the kitchen you didn't use, Granger?"

She accepted his light-hearted change of subject gratefully. "No. I'm pretty sure I didn't miss any. Fine cuisine takes a lot of preparation, you know, Potter."

"Please, promise me you won't ever ask Fleur for any French recipes!" Harry ducked the well-aimed dishcloth and started scrubbing pots, wishing heartily they had bothered to learn a few common household charms from Molly Weasley while she was still talking to them.

"Any more cheek from you, laddie, and it'll be toast and marmalade."

A/N: This was written as a gift for southern_witch_69 in the 2010 SSHG Exchange on LiveJournal.

Thanks and smooches go to karelia for her superb beta skills.