Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: The only dividend this pays is personal satisfaction.

A/N: The enthusiasm richardgloucester and sshg316 have for this story encourages me to be a better writer. Many thanks to those ladies for working on this chapter.

Severus awoke with a bitch of a hangover and spent the morning justifying his conviction that he should, in fact, visit the manor. He thought about it as he downed the hangover draught, as he cooked his breakfast, as he showered. It was his family home, after all, and he wasn't about to be kept away by some wallowing girl. Obviously she missed him, and without him to supervise he was sure that her attempts at renovation had been limited. Perhaps she would apologise.

It was settled then. He would go to seek her apology and supervise a major renovation. After all, he had to be certain that she wasn't making a mess of the manor.

**

The minute he stepped into the library, Pip appeared in front of him, enraged. Severus reckoned that he'd never seen Pip turn such a shade of red.

"You are angry with me," Severus said, keeping his voice calm.

"Pip is not being happy, Master Severus. Pip is not being happy at all," Pip said, folding his arms across his chest. "Master is making Miss Hermione very sad. She is not eating, and she is working too much."

"Has she been doing major renovations?" Severus asked, stunned.

"She is trying. And she is being so sad! Sad all the time. She is missing you, and you is not caring enough to come see her!"

"I...Pip..."

Pip pointed his finger at Severus. "Is you playing a game with Miss? Miss is caring for you, and I is going to hurt you if you hurt Miss." Pip glared at him, and Severus knew his face must be ashen. He leaned against the fireplace.

"I didn't realise..."

"Is obvious you was not realising."

"She cares for me?" he asked before he could stop himself. How pathetic was this, looking to a house-elf to help him in this... relationship? He inhaled sharply, prepared to move past his question, when Pip spoke.

"She is caring too much. She is not knowing you is real, but she is knowing how much Edmund is like Professor Snape, and she is wanting you. She is being very sad that you is a ghost."

"You can't be serious," Severus said, eyes wide. His heart started beating more quickly. Was it possible that she saw past the façade, that she saw him, even if she chose to believe the illusion?

"Pip is saying too much. Pip is betraying the one mistress who is caring for him!" Pip started banging his head against the fireplace, and Severus stooped down to stop him.

"Stop. Stop, Pip. Do not beat yourself. You said nothing wrong." Severus swallowed hard. "I'm going to go and see her. Where is she?"

"The master bedroom," Pip said, crestfallen, and Severus' heart clenched a little to leave him there. But he needed Hermione. Needed to see Hermione, he corrected himself.

Hermione was sitting on her bed, pen and notebook in hand, making a long list of the to-do projects for the manor. She'd been here exactly three weeks, and it was time to take stock of her progress. Admittedly, making such a list was rather discouraging; in comparison the to-do list, the "accomplished" list looked positively miniscule. The plumber and electrician had done their work, and Hermione had devoted the week to fixing the flooring and crumbling ceilings in various hallways and rooms...and cleaning, and cleaning out. Honestly, the majority of rooms in the manor hadn't been touched in years. She kept finding things that unnerved her...engraved stationery in a desk drawer, a deck of magical playing cards in a child's bed, a box full of perfume vials. She wondered why the home hadn't been more thoroughly cleaned out, but thinking about Professor Snape and his grandfather before him... she imagined they hadn't had the inclination or energy to weed out children's things. So the task fell to her.

She was going through the list of to-do items for the east wing when she heard his voice.

"May I come in?"

Her head jerked up. Edmund. She bit her lip, fighting the urge to allow him entrance. Two weeks, he'd left her here alone, without a word, all because of her impulsive reaction to an impertinent statement.

She could have sworn she heard the sound of a head hitting the door, but that was impossible.

"Hermione, please let me in."

The pleading in his voice twined its way around her like a vine, choking her resistance, making her heart feel so tight it was about to burst. "You may come in," she said, waving the door open, hoping her voice didn't betray how quickly her heart was beating.

He walked in, and the look on his face just about killed her.

"You look terrible," she said frankly.

He shrugged. "Pip was just telling me..." he started, and she bit her lip.

"What was Pip telling you? He's been unnecessarily concerned about me," she said, suddenly feeling defensive. He was a ghost. She shouldn't feel this way about a ghost. It was unnatural. He reminded her of Professor Snape, that's all. Remembering that that man was also dead made her feel worse.

"He cares for you, Hermione. Don't dismiss a man because of that," Edmund said, his hands open in supplication, and she pursed her lips.

"He's a house-elf, not a man." Hermione hugged her knees to her chest. "You left without saying anything, but you have no obligation here. None to me, none to this house. You didn't have to return. I've accomplished much in your absence...I assure you, your coaching is not necessary."

"Have you been working?" he asked, and it sounded like his voice was cracking, but that was a figment of her imagination. She was hearing what she wanted to hear. She couldn't, she just couldn't.

"See for yourself. Go and look around," she said.

He turned slightly but then looked back at her. "I missed you, Hermione. I am sorry for my behavior. It was juvenile, and I beg your forgiveness." Then he walked out the door, whether to inspect the manor or go to wherever he'd been for two weeks, she didn't know.

She put her head in her hands and cried. He was back, but he was a ghost. He was a vapour of his former self. Could ghosts even develop new emotions? Could they feel? She was trying to start a new life, and here she was, in Professor Snape's home, infatuated with a ghost, of all things. Ghosts were people who hadn't moved on, people mired in the past. How appropriate.

Pathetic, Hermione, she told herself. Just pathetic.

**

She went downstairs half an hour later and was surprised to find him in the kitchen, examining the appliances. She stood, shocked, in the doorway until he looked up at her. If he was surprised to see her, he didn't let on.

"You've done a great deal," he said, casually looking around the kitchen. "You had a plumber and electrician come?"

"I...yes. You're still here," she said, shaking her head.

"You told me to look around, so as to appreciate the amount of work you've done, I presume. You've done quite a bit. But Pip said you haven't had much appetite."

"I get caught up in my work," she said. "It's not that I don't want to eat, I just... forget to."

He chuckled. "That sounds familiar. Pip must be around here somewhere. Have you eaten today?"

She shook her head immediately, and Pip popped into the kitchen as if Summoned.

"If you could cook Miss Hermione her lunch, Pip," Edmund said, and Pip set about doing so without a word.

"It's not your job to take care of me."

"Until you start demonstrating that you can take care of yourself, someone has to look out for you," he said.

"See..." she pointed her finger at him "...that is the kind of condescending bullshit I do not want to put up with from you. I don't give a damn how you treated women in your time, but I am a single woman and an almost-homeowner, and I don't need a ghost looking out for my welfare. I was doing just fine before you came along."

"And what, pray tell, were you doing?" Edmund asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"Figuring out my life," she said, sitting down at the table, the chair grating harshly across the floor.

"And how is that going for you?" he asked.

She sighed. "Like shit."

He chuckled. "Look who has a mouth today."

"Look who decided to show up today," she shot back.

"I apologised," he said, his eyes seeming to bore into her. "I cannot express to you how sorry I am, how much I missed you."

Tears filled her eyes, and she looked away, not wanting him to see.

"What is it?" he asked gently.

She turned back to him with a rueful smile. "Ghosts and humans aren't supposed to care for each other."

His eyebrows shot up. "That's news to me. I grew up surrounded by ghosts in this place. They were some of my best childhood friends."

"Not... I mean... never mind." She paused. "I was thinking of doing part of the library today."

"I think you should rest today. Not that you need to heed my advice," he amended quickly, "but it's apparent to me that you've attempted to take on a lot, and all those supposedly small jobs can weary a person. Given your diet, you need rest."

"What would you propose I do with my day off? Spend it with you?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow, and he chuckled.

"I...I think we're both a little off kilter today."

"Do ghosts even have feelings?" she asked before she could stop herself.

He was silent for a moment. "This one does," he said, looking straight at her. "Perhaps a trip to the coast or into town would do the trick."

She looked out the window at the back garden, which she'd been slowly tending back to life. "We'll see."

He pursed his lips. "I should go. I'll call on you tomorrow."

"Okay." She stared at the plate Pip brought to her for her meal, and didn't watch him as he went.

"Edmund is not being good for Miss," Pip said. "I was being quiet while you two was talking, but now I is saying my piece. He is being no good. He is ghost and you is not."

She sighed. "I know, Pip. I know."

**

Going into town turned out to be a good idea, though she wasn't about to thank Edmund for it. She picked up some yarn at Susan's yarn shop, and, on impulse, went into the herbalist's shop to see if the ever-elusive Lionel Smith was there. She was turned away by Caroline, who probably thought she was crazy, and she walked out of the shop so quickly that she ran into someone on the sidewalk, dropping her bags.

"I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, immediately kneeling down to collect her things.

"Oh, it's all right," the other woman said, and when they looked at each other, Hermione fell back on her arse, heart beating rapidly.

The woman looked exactly like Bellatrix Lestrange, but Hermione didn't think she'd ever seen a genuine smile on Bellatrix Lestrange's face.

"You must be Hermione Granger. I'm Andromeda Tonks," the woman said, extending her hand, and it took Hermione a moment to pull her thoughts together before she shook hands with the older woman. When they finally stood, Hermione could see that she was the same build as Bellatrix, only curvier and healthy-looking. Her hair was black as night, as curly as Hermione's, and went half-way down her back. She was strikingly beautiful...what Bella might have looked like, had she lived a saner life, Hermione thought. She realised that she was staring, and she looked away, feeling awkward and entirely out of her depth.

"Would you like to get tea, Hermione?" Andromeda asked, looking Hermione right in the eye. Her eyes were kind, but they looked so much like Bellatrix's, and Hermione had spent far too long one afternoon looking straight into that woman's eyes, and her nerves flared so badly her hand trembled.

"I wouldn't want to presume, or to disrupt your afternoon, or..."

"Nonsense," Andromeda said. "I wouldn't presume to disrupt yours, either, of course...do you have plans?"

"No, I just...we petitioned your testimony for the trials...you never seemed too keen to meet with me..." Hermione said, cursing her nerves and her reckless words.

"The Minister excused my absence from court," Andromeda said, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I'm inviting you to tea as a friend. There aren't many of our kind here."

Hermione blanched. "I'm so sorry...I didn't meant to offend..."

"You just don't know why I'd want to talk to you?" Andromeda asked, a bemused smile on her face.

"In short, yes," Hermione said, letting out the breath she'd been holding.

"Well, I would like to chat, and I'm in dire need of tea, and there happens to be a lovely café just down the street," Andromeda said. "You're welcome to join me."

"I...yes, of course," Hermione said, feeling silly.

The two women ducked into a café and were quickly seated next to one of the big, floor-to-ceiling windows, steaming cups of tea sitting in front of them.

"Do you live here?" Hermione asked, feeling entirely awkward as she fidgeted with her rings.

"Oh, this is delicious," Andromeda said as she set her teacup down. "And to answer your question, I have a home near Penzance. I just come to Coleworth to do some shopping...the yarn shop and the herbalist are the best in the region, and travel is easy enough." She winked, and Hermione laughed.

"I've thoroughly enjoyed both shops, as well. I keep trying to stop in to catch the owner, but he's never there." Hermione sipped her coffee. "Have you ever met him? Lionel Smith?"

Andromeda nodded, staring out the window. "I've known Lionel a long time...vaguely, though. He's a bit prickly. Likes to keep people at arm's length."

"Does Teddy know him?"

"You're curious aren't you?" Andromeda said, and she waved a hand when Hermione began to protest. "No, Teddy doesn't. We're not friends."

"Is Teddy with you today?" Hermione asked, a bit hopeful. She hadn't seen Teddy in years.

Andromeda shook her head. "He's visiting a friend of mine. It's good for him to get away from this old woman for a while, spend time with people who can keep up with him," she said wryly.

"How old is he now?" Hermione asked, warming her hands with her cup.

"Seven. They grow so fast," Andromeda said softly.

"Can I ask a question?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"I remember your reputation for being... inquisitive. But I did ask you to tea, so I suppose I've invited it, haven't I?" Her warm smile belied her words.

"You haven't attended any of the ceremonies," Hermione said. "I know they're controversial and that everyone has their reasons, but... you've been missed."

"I've always kept to myself, away from wizarding society at large. Ted and I were never too social, and without him, I find it far easier to continue keeping to myself," Andromeda said.

Hermione wasn't quite sure what to say. "Would you consider attending the next one?"

Andromeda chuckled and wrapped her shawl around her shoulders. "Forgive me the impropriety, Hermione. I don't hear much, but what I do hear suggests that you have also withdrawn from wizarding society at large. After all, I found you here in Coleworth, of all places, a town without any magical inhabitants. Indeed, the Prince manor is the only magical presence in all of Cornwall, save my home, of course. Which is to say, I wonder at why you would wonder at my withdrawal."

"Call it morbid curiosity," Hermione said. "There's no good reason for asking... your family was always just so mythic, so unreal. None of us knew you."

"That was by design," Andromeda said, her tone pointed.

"So I've gathered."

"The... Light, as they call themselves... are far less accepting than they appear. Muggle-borns are brought into the fold without question, but those who were members of the most traditional, oppressive Pureblood families... let's just say that we are less welcomed. Especially when we transgress family lines for love rather than ideology," Andromeda said, her voice full of feeling.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione said quietly, and she had a feeling that Andromeda knew precisely what she meant.

"I appreciate that, Hermione. I do. My daughter was very fond of you...of all of you." Andromeda sipped her tea. "Are you still in touch with your friends, in spite of the seclusion?"

Hermione nodded. "Harry and Ron are family and always will be, no matter what changes. Same goes for Blaise. Other than that, I'm in touch with Minerva, to a small extent."

"I recall that you worked extensively with the Minister on Severus' trial. That took gumption."

"Did you know him?" Hermione asked, leaning forward with a renewed intensity.

"At school," Andromeda said. "Afterwards, less so. But I was very sorry for him."

"He was a hero," Hermione said, her voice hollow from saying it so many times.

"But a hero without love, and that is a sadder fate. All that ideology left him alone."

Hermione shook her head and stared at the table for a few moments. "The war has left many people alone. And the survivors, the young survivors, at least, got caught up in marrying and procreating, and I don't even think they stopped to think about what they'd want if there was no war, if our people hadn't been so ravaged."

"An astute observation. The birth rates have spiked over the last few years," Andromeda said. "I take it you're not planning to contribute to that phenomenon?"

Hermione shook her head. "Pip, the house-elf at Lyonesse, seems to think I'm seeing Blaise, since he sends gifts on occasion, but no, I'm not planning to have a family any time soon."

Andromeda grinned. "Blaise's mother seems to think you're his best shot at a respectable marriage."

Hermione laughed so hard she snorted. "Oh sweet Merlin, I am sorry for her. Blaise and I would never...no, never."

"She will be sorry to hear it. But," Andromeda said, "how goes the restoration?"

"How do you..." Hermione started, and then she remembered. Harry. "It goes well," she said, smiling.

"You must be so pleased, having your first home," Andromeda said.

"Well, I'm renting it. I was ready to buy three weeks ago, but...bureaucracy." Hermione waved a hand. "So, I'm renting and renovating the manor."

Andromeda gave a small snort. "I hope you have an iron-clad agreement with the Ministry. That's work they should be doing, if they're the owners."

Hermione nodded. "They've agreed to sell it to me after a three month trial period. They want any items of value to revert to them...not that there are any items of value. Ones they'd want, I mean. The manor is beautiful, full of so many treasures, but nothing they'd raid for, you know? I don't think they're in such dire straits that they'd come for the dining room silver."

Andromeda sighed. "I've learned that the Ministry has very peculiar ideas about value, and justice, and property boundaries. Remember, they're not looking out for you, and there are some who will swindle you any way you can. That's unsolicited advice, I know, but keep a wary eye."

"Constant vigilance?" Hermione asked, arching an eyebrow, and Andromeda chuckled.

"Indeed." Andromeda sipped her tea. "Has anything surprised you about the manor? I imagine being up close and personal with so old a piece of wizarding history must be thrilling for you."

"I find new things every day, though I'm most struck by the everyday...finding sachets or perfume oils from an old mistress, children's toys still being in their rooms and such. It's a reminder that a family was there, you know? A place so grand can often feel distant, removed, and those details, they bring it home for me." Hermione paused. "And then, there's the ghost. That was a surprise."

"A ghost?" Andromeda asked, eyebrows arching in surprise. "I wasn't aware that Lyonesse had a ghost."

"I'm beginning to think it's one of the best kept secrets. Pip refuses to say a word about it."

Andromeda chuckled. "Pip was always an odd duck."

"You know Pip?" Hermione asked.

Andromeda nodded. "Knew him briefly, during my Hogwarts years. I was at Hogwarts with Severus, you know, and his grandfather held a party for him one year that all Slytherins attended."

"You were in Slytherin?" Hermione gaped.

"Prejudice, prejudice," Andromeda tsked, and Hermione immediately felt chagrin. "The grandfather hoped that Narcissa might wed Severus. But though the Princes rivaled the Malfoys in wealth, back then, Severus just couldn't compete with Lucius' looks or charm."

"Did he want to?" Hermione asked quietly, staring at the table.

Andromeda looked thoughtful. "I don't think he would have minded. Narcissa was very lovely and aloof in a way that was attractive rather than alienating."

"Surprising."

Andromeda shrugged. "There were several years between us and Narcissa, enough so that when we went off to school, Narcissa was practically an only child. Cissa has more attributes of an only child than a baby of the family. And...this is meant as a compliment, Hermione...you remind me of her, in some ways."

Hermione gulped. "Me?"

"Reserved, driven, desperate to be taken seriously, loyal to a fault, and...perhaps a bit ruthless," Andromeda mused, pouring hot water into her teacup. "As I said, I meant it as a compliment. And I am only judging by your reputation, of course, and what Harry tells me."

Hermione had no idea how to take that. "I would never marry a..."

"She loved him," Andromeda said, holding a hand up. "But enough of my sisters. Tell me more about this ghost."

Hermione shook her head as the butterflies in her stomach fluttered their wings. "Edmund is... a gentleman. And overly concerned for my welfare, though that's possibly because he's from the late eighteenth century. He looks... sweet Merlin, he looks like Professor Snape. It's frightening. But he comes by to visit and chat and coach me through some renovations. He recommends books for me to read, and we talk about his family history and music and books and silly things. He's very kind." Hermione stared out the window, watching a couple pass by on the sidewalk, holding hands. So solid, so corporeal.

"You enjoy his company?" Andromeda asked.

"Yes. I...I care for him."

Andromeda looked thoughtful. "I must have forgotten about him. A shame, as he sounds lovely."

"It's silly, I know, to feel so... fond... of a ghost, but he's...he's a good man. Was a good man. Is any of this making sense?" Hermione asked, staring into her teacup.

"I imagine that it must be strange, moving to a place where you've no truly human company for companionship," Andromeda said. "I'm sorry to run out on you so quickly, but I really must collect Teddy from my friend's."

"Of course. Perhaps you could come round to Lyonesse sometime," Hermione said before thinking.

Andromeda smiled. "That would be lovely. Enjoy your afternoon, Hermione." She rose, slinging her handbag onto her shoulder in one smooth motion, and she walked out of the café.

Hermione sat at the table a while longer, sipping her tea long after it went cold, watching the couples and families walking by, telling herself that at any moment now, she was going to get a grip and stop acting like a lovesick teenager.

Andromeda walked up the gravel path to the house, and Teddy came bounding out the front door.

"Guess what I did, Gran? I beat Lionel at draughts! I beat him! I finally beat him!"

Andromeda mussed his shock-blue hair. "Good job, Teddy. You want to run around out here for a bit?"

"Yes!" Teddy said, excited, and he ran off into the field as Andromeda silently cast a perimeter spell.

She looked at the house and steeled herself as she walked up the steps and into the house. "Severus?"

"In the kitchen," his voice called out.

Andromeda walked to the kitchen, where she found him standing over his kitchen table, clearing away the draughts board. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the doorway.

He grinned. "You look scary, Meda. What's got into your knickers?"

She examined her fingernails. "Care to tell me why you're masquerading as the ghost of Lyonesse Hall?"

A/N: For American readers, draughts = checkers.