Chapter Three: Entêtement

Chapter Three: Entêtement

Nothing much changed. A good thing – because routine meant sanity. Severus still spent an hour a week in Katharine Listener's tidily cheerful office. Four days a week, he taught a handful of Auror recruits and three handfuls of Wizard Squad trainees how to detect, identify and neutralise dangerous potions and tried to instruct them in the art of shielding their minds. Thursdays, he brewed cures for St Mungo's. Saturdays, as always, were his own. Except for the one Saturday each month which belonged to the aunt who had watched over his comatose body before presiding over his physical recovery in her woodland cottage. His every Sunday still belonged to the Weasley family.

~*.* ~

Nothing changed, except that Granger had added moans disguised as clever anecdotes about her work to her repertoire of annoying conversation.

"Why do you encourage her?" For the most part, Dr Listener was true to her name (her true name, unlikely as that was; the Listeners were an old, if severely depleted, wizarding family), but she had a habit, from time to time, of surprising him with such ridiculous questions.

"I do not." Severus sneered at the very thought. Encourage Granger? The witch has never needed encouragement to open her mouth and keep opening it.

"I should have said 'entertain' her, perhaps?" Listener smiled her benign, non-committal smile. "Why do you entertain her advances?"

Advances!

"If you're so unhappy in her company," his therapist continued, "why do you listen to her complaints and answer her questions? I know Hermione can be a bit enthusiastic when she's really keen on something, but she's easily cowed by even the slightest hint of disapproval from anyone she wants to approve of her. Why haven't you used that against her?"

"She is still becoming reacquainted with wizarding society."

"And despite the fact that she has numerous wizarding friends and acquaintances, you feel you must be the one to help facilitate her transition?"

"Of course not," he sneered. "But Miss Tall..."

"Do you feel obligated to take orders from your familiar?"

"Me having a cat was your recommendation." His dry reply was accompanied by a falsely dispassionate study of his fingernails.

When Listener didn't rise to the bait after a long moment had passed, he raised his head with another show of feigned indifference. "Why don't you practise proper medicine?" Lashing out when discomfited was a thing he reserved for these sessions.

"Is Hermione's former work the reason, then? Is that what you would like to be doing? Practising 'proper medicine'?" Her voice and expression were drenched in genuine curiosity. Annoying! "There's nothing stopping you..."

"From returning to a degree I abandoned nearly two and a half decades ago?" Severus snorted and then, putting on overly posh accents, said, "'And what were you doing the past twenty-three years, Mr Snape?'" He altered his voice again to answer, "'Oh, a bit of this and that... trying and mostly failing to teach magical children at a magical school how to brew magical potions, spying for two lunatics in hopes of defeating the crazier of the two in a war that only finished about five years ago.'

"Oh, yes, that would go over splendidly!"

"It could be done if that was what you wanted. If it isn't, fair enough," conceded Listener. "But that doesn't mean you should force yourself to do something you loathe. Not after the life you've lived. Why don't you tell Hermione you'd rather not spend time with her?"

"Because I can't." He looked away from Listener's maddeningly patient gaze. "Obviously, something needs doing for the girl. And the Weasleys haven't a clue what that might be."

"You can do whatever you like, Severus." Her voice was still calm. Still patient. Still bloody annoying. "You don't owe Hermione anything."

"I owe the Weasleys."

"How so?"

"Once a week, I inflict my presence on them and their table."

"Molly and Arthur appreciate what you have done for them and consider you one of their own."

"Of course they still treat me as if I were one of their bloody brood." His lips twisted. "They are grateful for the illusion I bring with me. The lot of them are thankful that my coming to them allows them to perpetuate the illusion that they have not lost a son and brother."

"Why 'an illusion'?"

Unsurprisingly, the words he wanted to speak wouldn't come; there were limits to who he could tell about Fred's true nature and how much more he could reveal to those who already knew. Listener was privy to more than most, but this...

"If I am 'cured', he will be gone before they can reasonably expect to join him," he said instead.

"That still doesn't explain why you need to endure Hermione's overtures."

Severus took in the mild but curious expression and knew he had little choice but to offer the unvarnished truth if he wanted to change the subject before the session ended.

"She needs me, I think," he said as if those five words – which he barely understood himself – explained everything. And to his relief, Dr Listener behaved as if they did.

~*.* ~

Nothing much changed except that he exchanged his old routine for one that accommodated an irritating witch in need of watching over. Keeping an eye on Granger was the most he was prepared to offer; he decided to do nothing to help her advance her career.

The last didn't seem to matter in the end. Once Shacklebolt had got into his head that a select and fortunate few should be honoured with the task of devoting a few hours each week to furthering Granger's education, he hadn't let go of the idea. Severus's protests that the girl wouldn't need an advanced understanding of Potions on her particular career path and "isn't she overburdened already, having two Ministry jobs, even if one was supposed be secret?" fell on deaf ears. He was stuck assisting the witch in her rise to glory.

It helped that Granger was quieter during the lessons, limiting her questions to the subject at hand. At first anyway.

Soon enough (too soon, he sometimes thought), however, their conversations in the lab began to mirror those spent under "his" tree at the Burrow, ranging across all sorts of interesting and intriguing topics – such as the flatmate who was suspiciously adept at developing Muggle "natural" hair and beauty products for someone who had been declared a Squib, or what had been Granger's favourite classes at university – that had nothing to do with brewing procedure or ingredient analysis. In spite of her having reduced her Sundays at the Burrow to one for every three of his, he was spending even more time with her than he had when she was at school.

That he didn't mind nearly as much as he might have done was something he chose not to examine too closely. It was easier to ignore the curious looks Molly Weasley sent his way every third Sunday and the smug grins Ronald Weasley wore every time he saw the younger man if Severus told himself that having Granger practically glued to his side left him feeling put upon.

~OotP~

"We all agree we need to reform and redeem him in the eyes of wizarding society."

"Yes, but just how to you propose we do that?" Kingsley wanted to know.

"It's simple," Hermione said, offering first him, then the rest of the Order, a confident smile. "Rumour, innuendo and gossip are practically currency in our community. First thing we need to do is have him stop using Polyjuice when he goes out with Ron and Harry.

"Next, we make sure the right ears overhear someone talking about what he's been brewing. Maybe even hint at some sort of award in the offing.

"Once the world knows what he's been doing for St Mungo's, they'll already be halfway to accepting. When they hear respectable witches are vying to marry him, they will have to accept him for the good man he is."

Her declaration was met with expressions ranging from amusement to outright astonishment.

"What?" She looked from face to face, hoping in vain that her own calm appearance would make the plan seem less shocking than it was.

Kingsley ran a hand over his tired-looking face. He always looked exhausted at these meetings, Hermione realised. "Er, where do you expect to find 'respectable witches' who are so eager to become 'Madam Snape'?" he asked.

Hermione's gaze swung back and forth round the table again. "Well, for one thing, we won't actually put it that way. He only needs to be seen in the company of a respectable witch or three. The busybodies will do the rest. As for which witches, to start there's Andromeda Tonks – they get on well at Sunday dinners, and I'm sure..."

Ron choked on a stifled chuckle, cutting her off. He and Harry exchanged glances, then burst into full-on laughter.

"What these two idiots are trying to say is, Sev doesn't really do 'respectable' when it comes to dating," George said above the din. "Actually, he doesn't do dating, so much as he... Er... In any case, Meda sees him more as a younger brother, I'd say."

"Oui, 'Ermione," Fleur said, looking concerned. "Severus will 'ave to look far from the Burrow to find a wife. We are all family."

~HP~RW~HG~

"Don't let them get to you, Hermione." Harry looped an arm round her shoulder as they walked away from Grimmauld Place. "I thought your plan was pretty good. Ron and I both did."

Giving them both a mock glare, she jabbed her thumb back towards the hidden house. "You might have said something in there."

Ron laughed. "Would have looked weird if we were ready to marry off our drinking partner, wouldn't it?"

"No, it wouldn't! Not when Harry's married and you will be soon enough."

"I haven't actually asked her, you know," Ron said.

But Harry and Hermione knew it was only a matter of time before Demelza Robins became a Weasley, and they told him so. The three friends spent the rest of the ten-minute walk to their favourite wine bar talking and teasing and seeing who could come up with the most outrageous marriage proposal.

~*.* ~

Ron watched Harry wind his way through the crowded bar. Soon as he was certain their friend was far enough away not to overhear, he leant closer to Hermione.

"Should I be worried, I wonder? I've been doing a lot of keeping things from Harry, lately." He glanced at her in time to catch her face flame – either with anger or embarrassment, he wasn't sure which. Yet. "I won't share your secrets, but it's scary sometimes, seeing how clueless he is."

Hermione folded her arms across her chest. "I don't have any secrets other than Australia. And you know all of that was rubbish."

"If it's rubbish, then how come you haven't told anyone?"

"Lara knows."

He rolled his eyes.

"Ronald! I can't tell anyone else." She slapped her hands down on the table and stared at him. "They wouldn't understand the way you do. They'd start getting ideas. Specially after tonight."

Ron gazed back at her, unwilling to point out that if he'd "understood" they'd probably be married by now. "What I don't understand," he said calmly, "is why you haven't got any ideas now you've seen what he's like these days."

~RP~

"Have you looked at any of his moments recently?" asked the last person either of them wanted to hear. "He's doing quite well lately, I think."

"Stay out of this," warned Eileen. Her voice was cold and dangerous and powerful. A flow of pride washed over Tobias at the sound of it.

"Oh! I wouldn't dream of interfering." The only one of them wearing a human-like form, Albus fussed with the sleeves of his purple and orange robe.

Tobias would have doused the twinkle in the old liar's eyes if he could have. The ancient soul was too wily to be called a fool, but that never seemed to stop him acting one.

~SS~HG~

Two Sundays later, Severus sat beneath the oak's branches, baby Fred squirming on his knee and batting at his nose. More intent on listening as young Victoire squabbled with Ted Lupin, the other children dragged their feet instead of engaging in their usual rush to see who would reach him first. Shrill voices carried right across the wide expanse of garden, giving Severus an unwelcome clue as to the nature of the dispute.

"Uncle Rus is going to marry me, not 'Ermione!" she insisted with a toss of her red-gold curls. "You can marry 'Ermione."

Ted's face screwed up in helpless anger. "I'm not going to marry her," he shouted. "She's old. I'm going to marry you!"

"Hmpf!" Victoire marched over to Severus and sat at his feet. "Uncle Rus, tell Teddy I can't marry him because I am going to marry you."

To his credit, Severus didn't blanche or give any other outward sign of his inner horror.

"I think, Miss Weasley, when you are old enough to marry, you will think me too old."

Ted's face melted into a good copy of Severus's own at its smuggest, and the little boy shot his friend a triumphant look.

"Maybe I will marry Teddy," she conceded.

The argument settled before it had become a brawl, the other children gathered around him, and Severus set about entertaining them as usual – which is to say that he pretended he wasn't trying to entertain them at all.

But the relief of having been deemed unsuitable to one day marry Victoire Weasley brought no relief from the matter weighing most heavily on his mind: Granger was still invading his personal space to ask impertinent questions. He still wasn't quite sure why he answered, but an idea – too ridiculous to be the real reason, he assured himself – had been forming in the back of his mind ever since he'd made that odd admission to Listener.

Ronald had been far less forthcoming than Severus would have preferred; his ever increasing skill at Occlumency was good for the boy's duties, but it was a blow to Severus's information-gathering scheme.

Still, there was and always had been more than one way to skin a garden gnome, and Molly Weasley was a most effective research assistant – even when she didn't realise she'd taken on the role.

What do you need, Granger? he wondered as he went to have a word with his hostess.

~*.* ~

He shocked her by asking for her help in the kid zone.

She'd thought she'd already learned everything this new and (mostly) improved Severus Snape was willing to let her learn about him. Halfway through the meal – when he lifted a fretful little Fred from her arms, leaving her feeling inexplicably bereft – she was forced to accept that the complicated man now playing such an unexpected role in her life (and in the lives of her friends) was an endlessly fascinating enigma who would most likely continue to keep her off balance for however long she knew him.

Oddly, the idea was not an unappealing one, she realised.

As usual, Severus had deftly managed to keep the kids both entertained and fed with only a modicum of mess. Once everyone else was settled into their own conversations and plates, she started plying him with questions about his work, peppered with an occasional anecdote about her own. Whether it was due to the small ears in their vicinity or because he was just nicer, full stop, he answered the questions and commented on her stories about work.

When it was time for afters, somehow – she was a bit fuzzy on the details of exactly how – she ended up in the kitchen with him, cutting cakes and pies for the entire Weasley clan. The conversation had turned to a Muggle friend of hers who'd read Ecological Sciences at university before becoming an environmental preservationist.

"It's odd when you think about it. Different perceptions." Smiling as if to herself, she continued slicing a large chocolate cake whilst covertly observing him. He seemed inordinately patient, so she went on. "When I first got to Hogwarts, I would have said – well, thought anyway... I would have been too embarrassed to actually admit it in the beginning. Not that it would have been hard to guess. Anyway, I thought I hadn't any friends before Hogwarts, but Geoff thought we were. It really made me start to think about how what we think we see isn't necessarily the whole picture."

She'd only mentioned the young man and his course of study in passing, intending the anecdote as a handy segue into the speech about perception. But Severus, an interested light in his black eyes, asked question after question about the programme, very few of which she could answer.

"I had no idea you were so interested in saving the environment," she said, cutting off his complex observation about the many deleterious effects of certain methods of fossil fuel extraction.

He added a dollop of crème fraîche to Molly's slice of rhubarb pie.

"You think it perfectly natural that you have interests outside of Charms and Arithmancy, but given evidence that I have any outside Potions and Defence, you are surprised?" Eyes on his task, he smiled nastily as he spooned a thick raspberry coulis over Fleur's chocolate cake. "Perhaps you are not as open-minded as you like to believe yourself to be."

She smiled artlessly to show she had no intention of interrupting again.

"Think, girl! Tom Riddle was an insane megalomaniac, but he was also a genius of the first order." Severus plated three more slices of chocolate cake, one of apple pie and two more of rhubarb pie. When Hermione still hadn't spoken, he continued. "Is it so hard to imagine that once he had established a society which was dominated entirely by a people he considered to be superior he would wish for the world they ruled to be unadulterated by the effluence created by those he had always considered inferior?" Clearly, he'd intended the question to be rhetorical because he didn't even give her a chance to answer. "No. He wanted a pristine world for his pristine people."

Chewing her bottom lip, Hermione contemplated his surprising revelation. Although, considering the terms into which Severus had put it, the notion wasn't so surprising, after all. At least it shouldn't have been. Not really.

"And he meant to achieve this... immaculate Earth by using Dark magic?"

Severus wiped his hands on a damp tea towel, his dark eyes still on hers as he did so, a sneer – or was that his version of a smile? – twisting his thin lips.

"Well, he would need to do something with the leftover Muggles and Muggle-borns, wouldn't he?"

~SS~

There were flashes of memory, sometimes. Moments where Severus remembered. There weren't supposed to be, according to his own personal Clarence. But "supposed to be" didn't stop them coming.

He could almost see his mother and father as they truly were: nearly intangible beings of light and energy. Their warmth and love came to him in dreams and when he meditated. Or when one of those imbeciles the Auror Office were choosing now that everyone believed in peace left him so ticked off, it was either seek out a glimpse of the Outer World or try to send one of them to it.

He poured a draught past the lips of his unconscious student.

"Did you learn nothing that I have taught?" he barked when the young man awoke. "You ingested an elephant's dose of Jiang Shi Potion. If I hadn't been standing by with the antidote, you would have been one of the walking dead before you reached St Mungo's!" He waited for a response, and when none was forthcoming, he sighed heavily. "Go home, Mr Barrkopf."

Barrkopf's home was in the same wing of Ministry barracks as Severus's own apartments. All the first-year recruits lived there, and a couple were in the habit of occasionally knocking on their instructor's door for a bit of extracurricular tutoring. Barrkopf, fortunately, was not in that number.

Severus decided to retire to his rooms, his familiar and his memories, confident he wouldn't be disturbed.

~RP~

Two radiant, amorphous entities watched the moment play out. The more brightly glowing of two focussed energy in a way that suggested something... forbidden was about to happen.

"Merlin!" exclaimed the smaller and dimmer mass of energy. "You're always reminding us we can't go round 'nudging' the fleshsuiters!"

"So I do," said the other before coalescing into the distinct form of an ancient-looking greybeard. "Because you probably shouldn't, Fred Weasley. But I think you'll find things are somewhat different when you've progressed to the levels I have reached. That could happen sooner than you expect."

Then, with a smile that was either sly or smug or both, he nudged.

~HG~

"Are you sure you won't come? I really hate to think of you being alone tonight."

Lara Obiye, who had been watching her flatmate dart around their living room for the past fifteen minutes, waved away the invitation (the seventh, by her count) with a patient "It's already tomorrow in Kokopo, H" before taking a deep breath and changing the subject.

"Maybe you're so conflicted because you think it might come true."

"What? Oh, you're back to talking about that, are you?" She laughed, but Lara could hear the nervousness belying the humour. "No! Mum's a Muggle, L. She... She can't have been right. It's minor brain damage, you know? Near death experiences and all that. I'm sure you've read about it. See the light; come back with psychic powers?" Her shoulders slumped, but as least she stopped pacing. "None of it's real, though."

Standing, Lara grabbed Hermione's shoulders. "You should know better after living for months with a Muggle-witch. Not all magic is what you Brits make of it."

Hermione laughed again, confidently this time. "You're as English as I am!"

"By birth, yes, but I learnt a lot living outside Kokopo, and then Rabaul, surrounded by Mum's relatives. Magic isn't the same there, and six years is a long time. We have a name for what you dismiss as 'minor brain damage'. It means 'bringing it out', or close to that, anyway. It's not done except in extreme cases, or they would have brought out mine. But it sometimes happens accidentally, too."

She could see that she'd scared her friend, but Lara knew that fear could bring out magic that might have otherwise gone untapped.

"Give over, H," she went on. "I know it must be hard to accept. Dad still has trouble with our kind of magic, but it's real, and I think it has to do with what's been eating you all this time.

"Why did you even come up with this dating scheme? You wouldn't have suggested it if you weren't at least half thinking your mum might have had it right. You must have known it wouldn't be easy to find witches willing to participate, especially when you can't tell them why they're to be angling after your Severus."

"Well, maybe..." Hermione admitted. "But he's not 'my Severus'."

"No, but you'll never learn the truth about your mum if you don't spend more time with him outside his laboratory."

"It just seems so... wrong, using him like that."

"Only because you'll have to eat your words if everything works out." Lara made quick work of tidying Hermione's hair into an attractive braid and nudged her friend towards their fireplace. "Go, or your dad will start to worry, and your mum will have to paint the truth out just to reassure him and dinner will be ruined."

The smile Hermione tossed over her shoulder was small but genuine.

"And make sure you don't come back without a piece of birthday cake!"

~RP~

"We could have been nicer to him." Mournful brown eyes gaze remained directed at the floor. Emotions were easier to hide when they affected the forms (if not the substance) of fleshsuits, but not meeting anyone's eyes helped even more. "I feel like this is our fault."

"It's not!" Lily protested. "If anyone is to blame, it's me. Here and there, I let him slip through my fingers."

"Really?" Fred shook his head at the Potters and Lupin. "This isn't about any of you, and no one could have stopped Severus getting into trouble. Not here, anyway. Remus and James barely had anything to do with him when he was still real, and watching him was everyone's job."

"But when we were flesh... I could have been a better friend. Even if he was turning into a nasty piece of work. Maybe if I'd accepted his apology, he wouldn't have gone so very dark."

Fred smirked at the very idea, and soon Lily was laughing along with him. James and Remus didn't even smile.

"All right," she said when she stopped laughing. "There's nothing I could have done. But what makes you think that lot will do any better?"

~OotP~

"This is the right thing to do!" Exasperated, Hermione shoved back her chair and shot to her feet. "None of you have any qualms at all about asking him to watch over your kids; now, when there's something we can do for him, when there's something I'm more than willing – eager, actually! – to do for him, why are you so resistant?"

She scanned the startled and concerned faces of the people ringing the table. They were all his friends, she believed with her whole heart; none wished Severus Snape any malice. So why was everyone but Ron and George telling her what a horrible idea it was? Unless... She glanced around the room again.

"We agreed weeks ago this is the best chance we can give him. I don't see why that's no longer true simply because now I'm the only one who's likely to do it, and we're running out of time."

"Hermione..." Arthur's voice was hesitant and uncertain. "It's not that we think Severus isn't wor..." He seemed to realise what he was saying – quite possibly via a below-the-table kick from his wife, if his strangled yelp was any indication – and wisely shut up.

"We don't want him hurt!" Molly put in before he could stick his foot in it again. "It would be different if a more mature witch was showing genuine interest. That's only to be expected. A young witch such as yourself? Oh, Hermione, his head might get turned. You can't imagine how isolated he's been! It's worse even than when he was at Hogwarts."

"Right," Hermione said, her voice calmer as she resumed her seat. "I know that I wasn't here for the worst of it, and I haven't been back very long, all things considered. But he's my friend, too." Part of her desperately wanted to tell them her interest was genuine, even if it wasn't the sort of interest Molly meant. But that would mean telling the Australian secret. "I'm not going to... We'll tell him the truth, of course. I know you didn't want to do that, but I don't think we have a choice there. That way there won't be any chance of him mistaking my intentions, and maybe he won't be as annoyed that we've been Dumbledoring him.

"And when things don't work out, he'll come out ahead in this. I've already got a reputation among witches and wizards who remember back to the Tri-Wizard. They'll just think I'm up to my old tricks again." She frowned, more to herself than to the rest of the company. "Besides, it's not as if you lot came up with your own candidates."

If she'd held out any hope that her little speech would garner anything more than an extended and uncomfortable silence (she had, of course) before everyone else saw reason, she was in for disappointment (which she got – in spades) until seemingly for no reason at all George started grinning and applauding.

The concerned looks – even the ones that had been trained on the tabletop – all transferred to their cheerfully clapping companion. And all looked far more worried than they had at the end of Hermione's outburst.

"What?" George asked, feigning innocent confusion. At least he stopped slapping his hands together. "She's right, you know. She is the only one available right now, and we need to get this part done before people start to forget everything else we've put in place. Frankly, she's been my first choice from the start."

A few jaws went slack after he let that slip, but Arthur was stroking his chin and nodding thoughtfully, and Kingsley was smiling, and even Harry was looking at Hermione with interest.

Ron better not have...

"George is right," his youngest brother said. "We should have been pushing her at him all along. Right, Harry?" Ron looked at his friend for confirmation. "He hardly ever wants either of us in the lab since Hermione's been back, and if you ever saw them working together, you'd know why straight away. It's like watching a... thing with one brain and four arms!"

It became immediately clear that Harry, who'd at first returned Ron's regard uncertainly, was warming to the idea. Or had he only been pretending to protest in the first place?

"Yeah," he said, not sounding quite as enthusiastic as either Weasley, but definitely not unconvinced. "They are rather good together. In the lab." He emphasised the last bit. "Snape doesn't even get tetchy when she starts talking about things other than flobberworms and stirring rods while they're brewing."

Hermione smiled. With Harry's support behind it, the battle should be on its way to being half won. Not that she wouldn't have tried anyway, but getting Severus to agree would be a whole lot easier if she had the rest of his friends pestering him to accept the future she had planned. And if Ron had him told her secret, well, she'd deal with that later.

"You never were on board for Meda," George accused for Hermione's ears only. "I never believed for a second you'd let some other witch have him."

She coloured to the roots of her bushy hair, but smiled and didn't deny it.

~FW~

Maybe it was that he had more interaction with the fleshies, or maybe it was because he had a true twin, or maybe it was just because he had something more personal to gain from ensuring a not-disastrous outcome, but Fred was convinced no one was more frustrated than him at being forced to watch the denizens of the Inner World bungle this latest project.

Merlin's little nudge might have had some small effect on the goings on, but Fred was close enough to the situation to realise his family's plan would be dead in the water if they left everything to Hermione and Ron. It wasn't that those two weren't extremely capable; it was that Severus was too formidable an opponent for them to conquer on their own. Especially if they insisted on keeping mum about their real goals.

Why else had nearly a two weeks gone without anyone taking further action? He didn't count Hermione's timid invitations for Severus to join her for lunch in the canteen as anything like progress.

Fred was sighing as he manifested into the form he most often used in the Inner World and appeared in a tiny Ministry cubicle.

"Look, I know all about Australia, so I get why that might be a problem for you," he said. "But as my twin pointed out, the longer we wait, the less effective our weapons. It's time and past you stopped all this planning rubbish and got started, don't you think?"

Despite the surprise and nervousness and alarm Fred could see pulsing even through her fleshsuit, Hermione Granger rose from her desk as if the souls of her friends popped by for a chat every day she spent at the office.

He smiled approvingly and held out a hand to lead the way.

~HG~

It was as unlike the rest of the barracks as her flat was to the Burrow. Well, perhaps not that different. Maybe more like her parents' house compared to her flat. Anyway, it was more than she expected. Six or seven trainees could have been housed here. At least.

Two doorways led off the large and neatly ordered main room. She guessed there would be a bedroom and a bathroom behind those doors, but it was the space she stood in that held her interest.

An entire quarter of the room had been converted into a modern-looking kitchen, and a couch and two small armchairs formed a cosy sitting area. Most surprising was the little alcove to the right of the entrance. It held a spelled window, a small desk and a quietly humming computer, as well as Severus's familiar.

~SS~

Toeing off the slippers he'd worn through the corridors, Severus dropped his boots just inside his quarters.

Not even having already performed all the necessary cleansing and sterilising spells on them made him like keeping them where he lived. Yet, living in the barracks meant he was a potential victim to the pranks that were all too common among the Auror- and Wizard Squad-trainees. So every brewing day, he brought them home with him after showering at the lab.

The relative freedom of his Thursdays meant adding the extra steps of treating the boots to ensure they didn't suffer from the harsh ingredients – and the equally harsh spells – and soaking his feet to ensure they didn't suffer from being confined in the boots. Only he'd run out of both solutions, hadn't he? He could easily make more, but since the ingredients he needed were part of his private store, he'd been forced to return home with untreated boots and feet.

Of course, I wouldn't have forgotten if I wasn't expected to babysit...

The thought ended abruptly as he caught sight of the object of his grumblings standing in his kitchen.

He ignored the slow gaze travelling from his bare feet to his damp hair and stalked over to her.

"What are you doing here, and how did you get in?"

Impertinent little burglar that she was, Granger smiled at him!

"What's got you in a snit tonight?" She didn't give him a chance to pick up the jaw he'd dropped and answer her question. "It's Barrkopf again, isn't it? What did he do this time?"

She finished shredding the mint leaves already in her hands. Oregano, he noticed, waited to be pulverised.

Moving over to the sink, he quickly washed his hands before returning to her side. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her watching him as he scooped two handfuls of oregano into a mortar and began pounding with a pestle.

"What are you doing here?" he asked again.

Then she did something else he most certainly did not expect. Hermione Granger – impetuous, impertinent and now the impenetrable bane of his intellect – physically interrupted his preparations. Grabbing one of his hands in both of hers, she gazed up at him, her face open and beseeching.

"Fred let me in," she said. "Because I need you, Severus. Perhaps as much as you need me."

A/N: Thanks to karelia for the on-going beta reading through many, many revisions!