Chapter 17

Chapter 17

The next several weeks flew by, Hermione found, and before she knew it the Leaving Feast was upon them. She and Severus had been forced to curtail their research, at least temporarily, as she had been besieged at every possible moment by panicking students who were positive they were going to fail their OWLs or NEWTs, no matter how often she reassured them otherwise. She was really looking forward to the departure of the Hogwarts Express tomorrow, when things could get back to normal.

She still hadn't announced a decision about whether to stay or go, though she supposed the fact that she hadn't inquired or applied anywhere else rather spoke for itself. She considered the question again as she donned her favourite navy blue robes for the feast. She was running out of time, she knew, and she suspected Severus's patience was wearing thin, since she also had avoided taking any further steps forward in their relationship. She wasn't sure what was holding her back. No matter how much they snogged and argued and laughed and talked and snogged some more, she seemed to have one last remnant of doubt that wouldn't go away. She wondered if it ever would.

Since they had begun dating, he had been alternately charming and challenging, sweet and sarcastic, fun and frustrating. In short, he had been her perfect research partner, and she had on occasion caught herself thinking he also seemed like her ideal mate. He continued to look after her when she forgot to eat, and he made sure she slept, and she'd discovered that one of his sly comments was the perfect antidote when she began to take everything just a little too seriously. For someone who was more used to looking after people than to being looked after, it was surprisingly pleasant.

And she'd found herself supporting him in return, in other ways. As he'd gone without decent sleep or having much of an appetite for so many years, he would never forget to eat or go without sleep if he could possibly help it, so she never had to drag him out of his office for such things – which, all things considered, was probably good, she thought as she charmed her hair into a French braid. If she couldn't be arsed about her own meals, surely it was best that she wasn't tasked with tracking his?

However, his newfound patience and tolerance toward her didn't extend to everyone, and the one downside to being cured, it seemed, was that he now found himself without an acceptable excuse to avoid the board meetings and fundraisers he still hated. This gave Hermione ample opportunities to support him by ensuring he didn't irrevocably alienate anyone who might be able to negatively influence his career path.

In short, they were good for each other. Hermione had been, and frequently still was, surprised that a man who had made no secret of his contempt for her up until a few short months ago could be such a wonderful companion – not to mention a great kisser and sexy, too. If only she could figure out what was holding her back ...

Sighing, she finished getting ready with a quick swipe of mascara and some lip gloss, then went to answer his knock at the door. They had made no attempt to keep their relationship quiet, reasoning that since the Prophet had reported they were a couple even before they were one, secrecy was a lost cause, anyway. Thus, they generally arrived together to meals and meetings and whatever else they both had to attend, unless their schedules prohibited it. Still, they didn't talk about it, nor did they engage in any sort of public handholding or anything like that.

Now, as she greeted him warmly, her doubts and fears fled. She realised suddenly that they rarely stayed with her when she was actually in Severus's presence. It was only when she was alone with time to think that her fears rose up. Was this really all too good to be true? Or was she just holding on to the past a little too tightly? She didn't know, and once again, she pushed the questions aside as she walked with him to the Great Hall.

The next day, as they watched the Hogwarts Express disappear into the distance, Severus said, "Shall we resume our research?"

Hermione smiled. "Indeed, we shall. Is there anything you need to do first, or can we get started right away?"

"I believe anything else can wait. I'm not sure you won't explode if I force you to exercise any more patience," he teased with mock seriousness, delighting in the laugh that elicited as she slid her hand into his. He still couldn't believe his good fortune, after all their history, to discover that a woman who was so perfect for him actually seemed to want him. She seemed to find his dry humour hilarious, and she was sharp enough to engage in a battle of wits with him when the occasion warranted. It didn't even bother him that she liked to touch him constantly when they were alone, which surprised him since he had always, until now, believed he hated being touched.

In fact, the only thing that marred his otherwise perfect contentment was that she still seemed to be holding something back. Not just the sex, either – he viewed that as a symptom that she still didn't fully trust him.

Nor should she, a voice in his head (which sounded suspiciously like Lily) whispered. You haven't told her the truth about what drew you together in the first instance, have you?

Shut up, he told the voice sternly. She'll never forgive me if I tell her now, after all this time.

I'm not telling her. Shut up and go away.

He forced his attention back to Hermione, who was looking at him oddly. "Where do you go, Severus?"

"Go?"

"Mentally, I mean. You get this faraway look on your face, sometimes, and you look very unhappy. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No," he said tersely, feeling guilty at her concern for him. Then, realising she wouldn't believe a complete denial, he added more gently, "I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind. It's nothing important."

She looked sceptical, and perhaps slightly hurt, but let the matter drop. "All right, but you can tell me anything, you know. If you change your mind, I mean. Now, where shall we begin?" she asked as they arrived at the lab.

He let his relief show in a slight smile before leaning over to kiss her briefly. "Thank you. Now, I believe we were going to try adding a few drops of Dragon's Blood, weren't we?"

Two days later, Severus was in his office catching up on some paperwork when Lucius popped into the Floo. "Good morning, Severus."

"I don't see what's good about it," Severus grumbled, but without heat. It wasn't Lucius's fault that he had spent the last two hours working on the yet another revision of the budget projections. Not directly, anyway.

"Now, now, Severus, let's not be gloomy. May I come through?"

"If you feel you must."

When Lucius had brushed himself off and they had settled in with tea (it was morning, after all, and Hogwarts's brandy selection wasn't as good as Lucius's anyway), Lucius asked smoothly, "I suppose you know why I'm here?"

"Other than to bother me? I have no idea," Severus replied just as smoothly.

Lucius smirked. "Oh, come, now, Severus, you can't think of anything that would be on my mind that would cause me to interrupt my summer holiday?"

Severus sighed dramatically. "Nothing comes to mind," he answered before taking a sip of his tea.

"You don't think I might want to know what progress you're making with Granger?"

Severus bristled, and if his cup made a slightly louder clink against his saucer than was strictly necessary, he hoped Lucius didn't notice. "Granger is none of your business, Lucius. Leave it be."

"Severus, I'm not asking about your personal feelings toward her, assuming you actually have any. I want to know if you've convinced her to rescind her resignation yet."

"She hasn't decided yet, or if she has, she hasn't informed me," Severus said defensively.

"Well, what did she say the last time you asked her? Is she leaning one way or the other? Because if she's going, we need to start working immediately on finding her replacement." Lucius sounded annoyed.

"I haven't asked her, all right? I promised I wouldn't pressure her, and she promised to consider staying."

"Asking isn't pressuring, Severus. We need to know, and soon. Otherwise, anyone we might want will already be committed elsewhere."

"I'm sure she'll tell me one way or the other as soon as she decides."

"Well, what's the impediment? Is she still not sure she can trust you?" he asked incredulously. "You've had four months to charm her, and you still haven't won her over? I told you this needed to be your top priority. You're losing your touch, Severus."

"I'm not losing anything, Lucius," Severus spat. "Except my patience with you. I told you I would convince her to stay, and she will. She's just not ready to admit it yet. We'd have heard something if she were looking elsewhere – at a minimum, she'd have had to leave for interviews, and she hasn't. She has nowhere else to go at this point," he finished, feeling vindicated that his point was well made.

"She doesn't need anywhere else to go, and if she did, someone would make a place for her."

Severus snorted. "What, she's going to live on her Ministry pension? It's not particularly generous – it probably wouldn't even cover her book budget."

Lucius looked at him, surprised. "That paltry sum? Pffft. She doesn't need that, either. Her income from the matchmaking service will keep her in all the books and anything else she might want for the rest of her life."

Caught off guard, Severus suddenly felt ill. "What income from what matchmaking service?"

"Arithmantically Yours." Lucius shook his head, then shrugged. "She gets royalties from writing the algorithm. You didn't seriously think Lavender Brown wrote it herself, did you?"

"I never gave it much thought at all. And if I had, I wouldn't have attached Hermione to it. She and Miss Brown were never close, so far as I know," he reasoned. He didn't appreciate Lucius's insinuation that he had stupidly overlooked something that, frankly, he couldn't have cared less about in the first place.

"Apparently, if rumour is to be believed, they bonded over their mutual displeasure with young Weasley after he treated them both poorly."

"Ah," Severus said. "Well, that's neither here nor there. Hermione would never be content without a career. She needs to be busy – it's almost pathological. She's got a colour-coded schedule for the summer, for Merlin's sake."

Outside the door, which apparently wasn't as thick as it had always seemed, Hermione stood frozen, unable to move away from a discussion she most definitely didn't want to hear – wished she hadn't heard. If only she had got sidetracked on her way here. Or taken time to put on some makeup. Or written a note to Harry and Luna ...

She was no longer listening to their conversation. She couldn't hear it past what they had already said, which was echoing in her mind, like an old phonograph record with a scratch in it. "Charm her ... top priority ... nowhere else to go ... pathological ... charm her ... top priority ... nowhere else to go ... pathological ... charm her ..."

She shook her head, whispering softly, "Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, Hermione. You knew something wasn't right ... you knew ..."

Slowly, painfully, she drew herself up and turned away from the door. The need to get away from those awful voices, to be alone with her broken heart, was all she could process at the moment. Very quietly, she left.

A/N: Don't kill me! (Be honest, you knew it had to be coming, one way or another ...)