Chapter Three

Thank you, dear Lariope, for all your help. I'll never be able to repay you for all your hard work.

Being an honorary sister of a very successful Curse-Breaker had its advantages, and Hermione...being the intelligent witch that she was...had persuaded Bill to impart to her all of the little tricks and subtle insights that he'd developed over his career. She'd had to promise not to include any of them in her book, and she couldn't blame him, really. Income from the patents on the charms and spells he'd developed would make for a tidy addition to his retirement when he was ready to step down.

Although she'd studied her notes endlessly for two days, Hermione was still a trifle nervous as she stood in front of Snape's house at Spinner's End. She'd taken the precaution of using a Disillusionment Charm before Apparating, but she had waffled between using daylight or darkness in her attempt to breach the building. Each, she had reasoned, had its own advantage. Darkness would have concealed her presence from nosey neighbors, but daylight would allow her to see...assuming she made it into the house...without using a Lumos spell that could give her away. She only hoped that the majority of those few residents that still lived there were off at their jobs.

Using nothing more than an extremely subtle Detection Spell that Bill had taught her, Hermione cautiously approached the house. The different wards on the property glowed with distinct colours, the shades varying with the skill of the castor. Some were so pale as to be almost invisible. She knew those were the trickiest ones...and the hardest to circumvent...as the architect was very skilled, leaving almost no trace behind. She continued to search, almost circling the ratty old house twice before she found what she sought: a spot where the overlapping wards were the thinnest.

An additional hour and a half passed before she was able to manage a narrow path that wound its way around them. She paused to allow her wand hand to relax and to relieve some of the tension in her shoulders, but it also let her take stock of where the delicate shifting of the wards had deposited her. A frown marred Hermione's brow when she noted that almost all the windows...and the doors, of course...were heavily saturated with the lightest colours. The only access to Snape's family home that was within her reach was a narrow window set fairly high off the ground at the rear of the property.

Looking straight up at the window, Hermione was intrigued by the wooden flower box that hung underneath the sill. It looked solid, but...assuming she was able to get that far without the overt use of magic that would trigger the wards...would it hold her weight while she attempted to open the window? Glancing around, she noted with relief that it was hidden from all the neighboring houses by high rows of bushes on either side of the property.

She tried jumping first, but the tips of her fingers barely brushed the underside of the box. On her third attempt Hermione tried a running jump and almost planted her face into the side of the house. "There's got to be a way," she muttered while looking around on the ground. "Dirt, dead grass, weeds and more damned...there's no wards on the damned dirt!"

Drawing her wand, gently and ever so slowly, Hermione managed to fashion a slope built from the twice damned dirt. Leaning slightly on the edge of the flower box, she frowned when she was unable to see into the room. Dirt on the exterior, and to some degree on the interior, blocked any hope of being able to see past the shabby looking curtains. Studying them led Hermione to assume that she was attempting to gain entry via the kitchen. "My luck it'll be over the sink," she muttered before pulling gingerly on the window box. It seemed firm, didn't wobble or act as though it would give way, but still she paused before allowing her full weight to settle upon it.

"I hope whoever built this knew what they were doing," Hermione said and reached into a pocket. She withdrew a small nail file and proceeded to slip it between the sashes of the window, aiming to move the simple lock that held her at bay. After several attempts...and a few choice words...she managed to remove the last barrier between her and Snape's residence. The window slid open easily enough, but Hermione didn't immediately scramble through.

During all of her preparations, all of her scheming to get inside the house, the enormity of what Hermione was attempting to do hadn't really sunk in. Not until now. Everything that Professor Snape had done, coupled with the sheer intimidation factor of his basic personality and the respect she'd always had for him, made Hermione suddenly unsure that she should continue. The window box egged her on by starting to sag. Hermione's fevered imagination could hear the nails pulling loose as she hastily grabbed the sill and pulled herself through, landing almost headfirst in an old fashioned, large-basined sink.

After adjusting her position so her derrière was safely in the bottom of the basin, Hermione said, "Ugh," and brushed away the cobwebs the dusty curtains had decided to give her as a gift. Reaching back through the window, Hermione grabbed the loosened flower box and tried to pull it completely off. It refused to budge. "Fine, stay there," she grumbled and lowered her feet onto the gritty kitchen floor.

"Finite Incantatem," came from the shadows to her right, and Hermione felt the Disillusionment Charm dissolve around her. She whipped out her wand and asked, "Who's there? Show yourself!"

"Normally, it's considered good manners to send a note round when one intends to visit an old acquaintance, Miss Granger," Severus announced dryly as he stepped through the doorway. "It spares the host or hostess an inordinate amount of embarrassment when they're unprepared for visitors. I haven't a thing to offer in the way of refreshment, you see."

Hermione's mouth opened and closed several times before she managed to sputter, "But you're dead!" She shook her head and then stated, "Professor Snape is dead. Whoever you are, you've got some explaining to do!"

"That's an extremely amusing statement coming from someone who just committed burglary to gain admittance to my humble abode," Severus stated as he crossed to the worn kitchen table. After brushing off one of the wooden seats, he sat down and raised a brow.

Her wand hand never wavered as it followed him across the small room. "Your humble abode? Are you the cousin who inherited?" she asked with a frown on her brow. "Did you use Polyjuice Potion to make yourself look like him to get inside or open a secret door?"

Hermione received a withering glance before Severus said, "I believe it's rather obvious I have no cousin, Miss Granger. Now...if you are quite finished trespassing...it's time for you to leave and allow me to get on with collecting my meager possessions before this property is turned over to its new owner."

"I'll give you credit for having researched his mannerisms, but don't think you have me fooled for one minute, you imposter!" Hermione said with narrowed eyes.

"Fine, we'll play it your way, Miss Granger," he said as he stood. "I am Archibald Leach, first cousin to Severus Snape, twice removed. This is my property and I'm asking you nicely to leave."

"There's no Leach in the Snape family tree," Hermione stated, backing up a step. "But the name is familiar."

Snape walked toward the cellar entrance and rolled his eyes. "I've not got the time to dilly-dally while you solve your little puzzles. If you insist on staying, you'll have to make yourself useful. Come along, Miss Granger, we don't have all day."

Hermione followed Archibald down the narrow cellar steps and watched while he opened the concealed room. "Gorgeous," slipped out of her mouth when she saw the collection of books.

"Yes," Snape remarked dryly when he noticed the gleam of interest in her eyes. "Start unshrinking those boxes in the corner, while I begin sorting," he said and picked up two dark covered volumes.

"You can't take those books; they belong to Professor Snape!" Hermione protested.

Snape paused, turned his head and raised a brow in her direction. "Again, I question Lupin's declaration that you are the smartest witch of your generation. If I am Snape...the books are mine. If I am his cousin...the books are mine. End of deliberation."

"I don't like it," Hermione said and crossed her arms. "And I refuse to help you steal those books no matter who you are or aren't."

"Good gods, woman!" Snape snarled in exasperation. "I can't very well leave them here for the Muggles to find, now can I? When they tear this old monstrosity down, they're bound to find this room."

Hermione frowned, unfolded her arms and crossed to the stack of shrunken boxes. After restoring two to their normal size, she placed one on either side of... whoever he was. "How are you sorting them?"

"The ones I want and the ones I don't," Snape replied as he piled several books into each carton.

Sending him a glance that in no way hid any of the irritation she was feeling, Hermione reached down and lifted out one of the books she'd assumed he didn't want. "What are you doing with the ones you don't?"

Taking the volume out of her hand, Snape placed it back in the box before replying, "They'll be sent as an anonymous donation to Hogwarts."

"Oh."

"Nothing to add?" he questioned as he continued to fill the boxes she'd brought him. "No more questions to ask?"

"Not right now," Hermione said as she took a seat on a spindly looking chair that sat in a corner.

Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, Snape stated, "You'll want to be careful how you sit on that particular chair. There's a reason it's in the cellar in a hidden room."

Jumping up, Hermione turned and cast a quick Revealing Charm that Bill had taught her. "There's nothing magical about it!" Hermione declared and turned to glare at Snape before sitting back down with a thump. "Admit it, you said that so I wouldn't sit on...Ack!" Hermione's accusation was interrupted when the chair's legs splayed out and left her sitting on the floor.

Fully turning, Snape lifted the corner of his mouth in a smile and then shook his head. "I never indicated there was anything magical about the chair, only that there was a reason it was down here. The braces for the legs are loose."

"You could have told me that!" Hermione said. She started to rise, but stopped when a hand was extended by the dark-haired man. She really looked at the hand and then into the face of the man who stood over her. "You are him," she stated with a note of awe in her voice. She grasped the hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. "You really are alive. How are you alive? We thought you were dead. We all thought you were dead. Why did you let us think you were dead?" Hermione's voice had been rising in volume the entire time she was speaking until she was almost yelling. Her face had become flushed and she threw her hands in the air. "Everything from chapter twenty-two on will need to be revised, as if I'm not behind enough as it is, and the memorial service we had for you...were you skulking in the shadows? Enjoying hearing us pour out our regrets that we thought we'd never be able to express to you in person? Has this all been some giant hoax?"

"Hoax? No, not a hoax, Miss Granger, it was merely an attempt to find some type of a normal life for myself. One that didn't involve Azkaban, tearful regrets, or any further attempts on my life," Snape advised in an acid tone. "As far as your memorial service...I'm afraid I missed it. I was busy fighting for my life, you see. It took close to a year for me to fully heal." He turned round and began sorting the books again.

Hermione's face flushed again, but this time for a different reason, as she took three steps toward the man she now knew was Snape. "I'm sorry," she said and dropped her gaze for a moment. "But... how did you survive? Harry, Ron and I were sure you were dead."

"I was," he stated simply. "If not for the timely intervention of one of the Malfoy house-elves, Loxey, I would indeed be nothing but a pile of dust by now."

"Malfoy? Is that why he's been refusing to grant me an interview?" Hermione asked, drawing closer.

Snape paused in his sorting, looked at her with an arched brow, and...knowing the answer, but using a bit of Slytherin one-oh-one...asked, "Are you working for the Quibbler now?"

"Of course I'm not! I'm writing a book about the war against Voldemort, and his input is crucial," she said and ran one hand through the mass of hair on her head. "I've been attempting to get an interview with him from the beginning of the project."

The brow lowered, and Snape's attention returned to the books in his hands. "Ah, I see."

Hermione moved in front of him, had the audacity to remove the books he was examining, and asked, "What exactly do you mean by that?"

When his dark gaze finally met her soft brown one, Hermione fidgeted a bit and then raised her chin slightly. "Well?"

"How many have you interviewed, Miss Granger?" Snape asked and folded his arms across his chest.

"As many as I could," she answered quickly.

"Come now, I'm sure the exacting Miss Granger has kept a better tally than that, hasn't she?" he asked with a tilted head.

"I've done sixty-five full interviews, and there are seventeen that still have to be finished or started," Hermione said. "Make that eighteen now, counting you."

"Indeed," Severus stated in a dry tone. "And what makes you assume that I'm going to be willing to subject myself to your inquires, Miss Granger?"

Once again Hermione's mouth opened and closed several times, and her eyes opened wide in astonishment. "But, you...of all people...should understand... It's got to be documented. For history...so it can be studied...so it never happens again."

A small smirk appeared on Snape's mouth before he asked, "Tell me, who was Gellert Grindelwald, Miss Granger?"

Shaking her head wildly, Hermione replied, "That's different! He never used Horcruxes."

"You're quite positive about that, are you?"

"I... I don't know," was her confused answer. "There isn't anything documented that he did."

"So, in true Gryffindor fashion, you're going to plunge ahead, briskly laying out the details of the Dark Lord's rise and fall for the next megalomaniac to learn from and avoid his predecessor's mistakes?" Snape asked.

A look of horror crossed Hermione's face as she shook her head. "No! That's not my intent at all!"

Snape snorted once, unfolded his arms, and took the books back from Hermione. "I'm sure it's not, Miss Granger, but then I'm also sure you know the old saying about the path to Hell and good intentions, don't you?" he asked almost gently.

Hermione nodded her head, turned, and absently repaired the chair before sitting down. "I can't not finish it!"

"Are you under orders to write it?"

"Well, no...but everyone knows I'm writing it," Hermione advised with a slightly stubborn look on her face.

"Are you being paid to write it?"

"No, but the Ministry has expressed an interest in seeing it when it's finished," she replied proudly.

"Ah, I see."

"Will you quit saying that like that?" Hermione demanded as she rose to her feet and placed herself in front of him again. "What is it you're seeing, Professor Snape?"

Another smile quirked the corner of his mouth before he said, "I'm no longer anyone's professor, and since the use of Mister Snape always makes me think of my father, you may call me Severus."

"You're changing the subject...answer my question, please," Hermione demanded.

"Normally, when one is invited to use the given name of an acquaintance, one offers the use of their own given name in return," Snape chided her gently.

"Use whatever name you like, Severus, just answer me!"

"I can guarantee you're not going to like the answer," he advised with a quirk of his brow.

"I've already gathered that much from the tone of your voice when you said it."

A mild look of surprise crossed Snape's face. "Very well, Hermione, I shall endeavor to explain what I see, and perhaps what Lucius sees as well. I see a young Muggle-born witch...a very talented Muggle-born witch...so very desperate to prove her worth to the Wizarding world that she's taken on the monumental task of trying to make sense of a mad-man's ambition to rule that same world, never realizing that no sense can be made out of anything to do with the man."

Hermione frowned, walked back over to the chair, and sat down. "You're right; I don't like it." She sat there in silence, watching while he continued to examine the books. When he filled a box, she would close it, move it to one side of the room or the other, and ready another one for him to fill. She did all of this seated on the chair with her wand until almost all of the books were sorted. Finally, Hermione rose and stood in front of him again. "You think I'm doing it for the glory of having my name on a book?"

Snape shook his head. "Never glory, merely respect...which you already have...but you don't see it that way, do you?" He placed the final two volumes in one box and closed it before sending it to join its mates on the far side of the cellar. That pile was shrunken and placed in one of his pockets. Severus hesitated slightly before gesturing to the other pile. "Would you care to pick and choose before they're dispatched to Hogwarts?" he asked.

Hermione's eyes brightened and she vigorously nodded her head. "That would be wonderful, thank you!" The light dimmed in her eyes, and she turned a troubled face in his direction. "How would I explain where I got them? They all have your name in them, don't they? And if I'm going to keep your secret, I can't tell anyone."

"I don't recall asking you to keep my existence a secret," Snape advised before shrinking the other pile and motioning for her to collect them.

"But what about finding that normal life? The one without all the teary regrets and Azkaban?" she asked while slipping the rejects into one of her own pockets.

"It's been pointed out to me...quite recently...that it's all become a tad boring," Severus replied with a smirk.

"Boring?"

"Very."

"We can't have that, now can we?" Hermione asked with a large grin on her face. "Would you care to have dinner with me this evening, Severus? Say at the Leaky? I can almost guarantee it won't be boring."

His brows rose to new heights, and Snape actually allowed a chuckle to escape before he briefly bowed his head and said, "I would be honored to have dinner with you this evening, Hermione."

**********

It took close to a year before the furor over Snape's return from the dead settled down. During that time, he collected his medal and all the lovely money Malfoy had promised him...which went to pay off the apothecary he'd purchased in the back of beyond...but Severus found that he'd collected something else along the way. He'd gained a very non-boring life as the husband of a very talented Muggle-born witch, who never did finish writing the book. When asked why, she'd shrug and reply, "I'd rather make history than write it. It's much more fun."

≈≈≈≈≈The End≈≈≈≈≈