Chapter Thirty-one: Plots Abound

Disclaimer: I still don't own them. I wish I did.

Chapter 31: Plots Abound

Armed with the determination to shed her hormone-driven, sex-addled immaturity in favour of her previous levelheaded intelligence, Hermione rose early to complete her homework essays and re-organise her school bag and desk. Satisfied she had restored order to at least a small section of her life, she left her room before her friends had arisen to spend an hour in the library before breakfast.

Even Madam Pince's frown at her softly exclaimed "Yes!" failed to suppress Hermione's grin. Gathering a dozen pages of carefully summarised notes and plans, she stowed them in her bag and headed to the Great Hall for a well-earned breakfast.

"Details. I want details." Ginny hauled Hermione onto the seat beside her.

Hermione smiled but shook her head. "No. You'll have to make do with what you know already. I realised last night I have to be more mature about this, or Severus will never accept me as an equal."

Ginny sighed and turned her head to the staff table. After watching Snape in silence for a moment, she nodded. "I suppose you're right." Then she winked. "Won't stop me trying though."

"Fair enough." Hermione glanced at Snape, firmly suppressing the surge of longing threatening to melt her resolve. Now all I have to do is control my urge to shag him senseless at every opportunity.

Ginny watched her friend's expressive face and giggled. "Not going to be easy, is it?"

"Gods, no. And I need to talk to him today."

"Talk?"

"Yes, talk. As in have a serious conversation. Without distractions."

"Good luck." Ginny smirked behind her glass of pumpkin juice.

The end of the school day found Hermione waiting outside the Potions classroom for Snape's fourth-year Gryffindors and Slytherins to leave. Avoiding eye contact with the departing students, Hermione peeked around the door to check Snape was the sole occupant. After closing the door, she walked up to his desk, finding her equanimity difficult to maintain when she saw his frown morph into surprised pleasure as he realised she was not one of his fourth years returned to plague him.

Snape ensured their privacy with a swiftly applied Locking Charm. "Do you think this is wise?" He shifted in his seat, a little colour staining his cheeks.

Hermione realised immediately the direction his thoughts had taken. Shaking her head, mostly to clear her own lascivious imagination, she offered a rueful smile. "I'm not here for a repeat of yesterday, Severus." Noting the subtle shuttering of his expression, she added, "Not that I wouldn't want to, but I know you need to meet Professor McGonagall again today, and I wanted to talk to you first."

"Fuck, I'd almost forgotten that again!" His face relaxed into a rare smile. "What is wrong with my memory lately?"

"Muggles call it selective memory loss, Severus. You just don't want to think about another group of first years."

"Bollocks, woman. I blame you. I can't concentrate in your presence."

Hermione managed to transform her giggle into a snort. "It's not my responsibility if none of your blood is reaching your brain. Now, get your mind out of your pants and concentrate. We don't have long before the headmistress expects you in her office."

"Merlin! One day she's under my desk driving me insane, and the next she's appointed herself as my personal secretary. No wonder I'm losing my edge."

Hermione reached into her bag and extracted a sheaf of parchment. "Your state of mind can wait. I promised I'd tell you about my research into handfasting."

As Snape studied her notes, Hermione outlined the information she had discovered about handfasting and the plan she had made. Within minutes, his usually severe expression had softened with hope and anticipation.

"Do you really wish to proceed with this?" He examined her face, a shadow of doubt still creasing his brow.

"More than I've wanted anything in my life." Her eyes met his, affirming her simple words with the warmth of affection and the molten heat of desire.

"I'll discuss it with Minerva then. May I?" He indicated her notes.

"Of course." She hesitated as she gathered courage for her next question. "I'll need to talk to..."

He scowled. "I suppose you must. Wait until I confirm this with Minerva though. I wouldn't want the witless wonders causing trouble before we gain her consent."

This time the giggle escaped. "Witless wonders? Is that your name for them?"

He had the grace to look a little ashamed. "Er... yes."

"Brilliant! I might steal that some time. No doubt I'll have occasion to use it."

"Hermione! You should be berating me for insulting your friends!"

"Oh, don't sound so disappointed. It's hardly an insult if it's true." She waggled a finger at him. "Not all the time, of course. There are just some moments..."

"Indeed."

***

Having escaped Snape's classroom with her intentions unsullied, mainly due to his impending appointment with the headmistress, Hermione retired to her bedroom to contemplate exactly how she was going to explain to her two supposed best friends her relationship with their Potions master.

At least I'll have Blaise and the others as back up.

How do I explain why they're the last to know?

The knock on her door rescued her from self-recriminations.

Blaise's smile soothed the worry lines from her forehead as he helped himself to his usual spot on her bed.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"You've been spotted in the library scratching away at parchments clearly unrelated to any homework assignments we've been given. I saw you heading down to the dungeons not long ago, and here you are, with not a hint of wickedness about you. What are you up to, Granger?"

Hermione could only laugh at Blaise's process of deduction. "So, if I'd been dishevelled and breathless, you would have brushed it all off as a lurid assignation in the Potions classroom and not been the least bit concerned? You only worry if I look normal? Zabini, you really should get out more."

"Am I mistaken?"

"No, of course not, you prat. If you must know, I've been researching handfasting."

"Handfasting? That's like an alternative to marriage, where a couple pledges to be together for a year and a day initially and after that decide whether they wish to make a permanent commitment, isn't it?" He ducked the pillow aimed at his head. "What?"

"Why have I spent the last few weeks researching this when you knew all about it?"

"Pureblood, remember? We learn these things as children."

"Smug bastard."

"Well, you could have asked instead of turning all secretive on us."

"It didn't occur to me." Hermione shrugged. "Never mind that now. I've found out the relevant information, and Severus is discussing it with Professor McGonagall tonight. I just have to work out how to tell Ron and Harry if we go ahead with it."

Blaise shook his head. "Do you really worry that much about their opinions? If they're true friends, they'll be happy for you."

"I know, and if they can't grow up enough to accept my choice of wizard, they'll simply have to get over themselves. But it's the initial reaction I'm more worried about. I don't want them going off half-cocked and doing something idiotic."

"They'd do that?"

"Unfortunately, it's a possibility."

"We need a plan then."

After Blaise had bid her good night, Hermione set her mind to her other problem. Valentine's Day. With no opportunity to visit Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley before the weekend and not enough time to arrange for an owl order gift, she resorted to the back-up plan of all sensible young women.

She wrote to her mother.

***

"Come in, Severus." Minerva closed her office door behind the Potions professor and waved vaguely towards the armchairs by the fire. "Tea? Or something stronger?"

Snape smirked. "Some of that fifty-year-old malt I know you have hidden in the secret drawer perhaps?"

The headmistress frowned. "How did you know about that?"

"It's where I stashed my supply of Old Ogden's while I occupied that desk, Minerva. And everyone on the staff knows your penchant for a fine dram or three."

"Everyone?" She blanched.

"Well, I suspect Hagrid still believes you're a teetotal paragon of virtue. Even I am loath to disabuse him of the notion."

Minerva conceded defeat, activating the magically hidden drawer in the grand oak desk and relieving it of its contents. Summoning two glasses, she poured a generous tot into each and brought them over to the fireside where the stack of student files awaited.

"Well, shall we?"

"If we must." He sighed and drained his glass in one swallow. "Gods, that's a grand drop."

Fifty minutes later, the last file had been discussed and annotated. Minerva gathered the folders and deposited them onto her desk as she glanced at the clock beside the door.

"Just in time for dinner. I hear it's roast chicken tonight, my favourite."

Snape lifted his hand to halt her progress towards the door. "One moment, Minerva. I have something else we need to discuss."

With a soft sigh, she resettled herself into her chair. "Very well. Dinner will still be there in a few minutes. What do you wish to talk about?"

"Miss Granger."

"Oh. I thought you'd made your position clear on that issue last time."

Snape focussed on his hands as he replied. "So did I, but perhaps I was a little hasty. I had thought to protect her from an impulsive decision she might live to regret."

"You gave the impression you did not care to marry the girl." Minerva's tone was laced with reproof.

"I did, much to my regret. At the time it didn't occur to me to consider how she could have misinterpreted my response. I..." The memory of the hurt he had caused the woman he loved reflected briefly in his expression.

Softening, Minerva reached forward to take his hands in hers. "I take it you've since talked to Hermione?"

"Yes. I... we agreed marriage was not the answer. At least, not yet."

"And you believe you can stay apart until the end of the year?" Minerva raised a disbelieving brow.

Snape huffed defeat. "No, dammit." He raised his eyes to meet Minerva's. "I tried, Minerva. I behaved like a total arse, avoiding her at all costs. But eventually..."

She smiled and shook her head. "If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I would never have believed it. Severus Snape in love, truly in love. Oh, don't glare at me, boy, I remember that glorious feeling. The need to be with one special person, to hear his voice, feel his touch. You'd do anything, risk everything to be together." Her eyes clouded as she drifted into her past for a few moments. "I'm not heartless, Severus. However, I do have the reputation of the school to consider."

"I'm well aware of that." He reached into his robes and withdrew the sheaf of parchment Hermione had given him earlier. "True to form, Hermione has been doing some research."

"Into what?"

"Handfasting. She believes it would be a reasonable compromise to appease the Board of Governors without subjecting either of us to an irreversible commitment."

"It certainly sounds possible. However, you have not said whether you agree with the proposition."

"How can I refuse? For some unexplicable reason, the woman wants me. Me, Minerva. Can you believe it? She's adamant she is not going to change her mind after the year and a day, but at least now understands my reluctance for her to enter a wizarding marriage at her age."

"One last question, Severus. If she had been a little older and not at school, would you have had any doubts about marrying her?"

"I would have claimed her as my wife already. Do not doubt it." Snape stood to leave.

Minerva nodded. "I'll see what I can do. Leave this with me to consider after dinner. And, Severus?"

"Yes?" He turned at the door.

"As headmistress, I have to take the school into consideration. As a friend and colleague who has known you since you were eleven years old, I'm delighted you've found someone who understands the hidden depths of your character. You hide it well, but you're one of the most steadfast, honorable, yet sensitive men I know. You deserve to be happy, lad."

Snape could only nod his thanks, struck dumb by the welling emotions her words had stirred. He had to take the long way to the Great Hall to allow his eyes to dry.

***

Watching the small brown owl swooping off south with her letter the next morning, Hermione leaned against the low window ledge and hoped her mother still took Wednesday afternoons off. With any luck, she would have managed to find and send the requested items before the end of the day.

Her next stop was Argus Filch's office. Knocking at the door, she waited until she heard the familiar shuffle of the caretaker's feet.

"Good morning to yer, missy." The faded old man almost managed a smile. Clutched in his hand was a rag smelling strongly of furniture wax.

"Good morning, Mr Filch. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Jus' finishing off something. Do yer want to come in?"

"Yes, thank you. I have a favour to ask of you." As she entered the room, Hermione caught sight of the intricately carved chair Filch had clearly been polishing. "Oh, that's gorgeous! Have you just finished it?"

Argus Filch stood straighter than he had for years. "Yes. Been working on that one for a year or two now. Ain't she a beauty?"

Hermione caressed the satiny wood and bent to examine the details of the design. "Thanks to you, she certainly is."

Flushed with pleasure, Filch shuffled from one foot to the other. "You had a favour, missy?"

"Call me Hermione, please." Hermione straightened and explained her request.

"That shouldn't be a problem, miss... Hermione. I'll keep my eyes open for it and make sure it gets to the right room." He screwed up one eye in a wink. "And I'll make sure no-one is any the wiser."

"You're a wonder, Mr Filch." She grinned as he blushed anew and opened the door for her.

"I reckon you can call me Argus now, seeing that you're all but finished your time here."

"I'd like that. Thanks, Argus." On impulse, Hermione reached up and planted a quick kiss on the bemused caretaker's cheek. "See you on Sunday!"

***

"So, the problem is you don't want Ron going off half-cocked and doing something daft when he finds out about you and Professor Snape." Ginny summarised Hermione's concerns.

"Not just Ron. Harry too."

Ginny shook her head. "No, if anything, Harry would just go into a sulk and brood for a while. My brother's the one who'll make a song and dance about it and be a right prat. He's the one we need to manipulate."

Blaise snorted. "I thought I was the Slytherin here."

"You haven't grown up with six older brothers. I have years of experience at dealing with Weasley males. As for Harry, I'll just snog him until he comes around. Won't take long."

"Can't we just tell them Hermione is happy with Professor Snape?" Luna asked.

Hermione sighed. "If only it was that simple. They both still have issues with him, although I admit Harry hasn't been so bad since he saw all those memories about Severus and his mum."

After discarding several ideas, including tying the boys up while they were told and keeping them that way until they had agreed to behave reasonably, Ginny's lips curled into a devious smile.

"I've got it. This is what we're going to do."

***

A/N: Sorry about the long wait, chaps! Our four week holiday in the USA was a whirlwind tour with lots of driving and activities and little time for writing. All is back to normal now, however!

Thanks always to karelia for her beta skills and encouragement.