A Barbarous Tongue

Has no one said those daring

Kind eyes should be more learn'd?

Or warned you how despairing

The moths are when they are burned?

I could have warned you; but you are young,

So we speak a different tongue

O you will take whatever's offered

And dream that all the world's a friend,

Suffer as your mother suffered,

Be as broken in the end.

But I am old and you are young,

And I speak a barbarous tongue.

- W. B. Yeats, Two Years Later

***

Severus lowered his wand and checked the flame beneath his simmering cauldron. It was Saturday afternoon, and he hadn't been expecting any visitors. He could feel the muscles in his jaw tighten: he hated it when his work was disturbed. The ingredients for this particular draught were horrendously expensive, and he would not be pleased if his entire morning of brewing came to naught.

"Moe?" he called as the thump of the door-knocker echoed through the empty house.

What the devil was wrong with the house-elf? He hadn't seen her for almost two weeks, and this was the third time she'd failed to answer his summons. He would have to pay a visit to Lance.

With an angry grunt, he threw open the door of his laboratory and headed for the stairs. The volume of the knocking increased, and he swore under his breath. If Cordelia hadn't had so many Muggle friends, he would have been able to place a Muggle Repelling Charm on the house, but as it was, he was forced to suffer the tedious interruptions of salesmen and charity do-gooders on a regular basis.

With a cutting diatribe on the tip of his tongue about the value of his time, he flung open the front door.

It wasn't a Muggle in a cheap suit holding a clipboard that stood outside his house, however, and the unexpected sight of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy on his doorstep was enough to rob him, albeit momentarily, of his legendary sarcasm. Had either one of them stood there alone, he might not have felt so wrong-footed. But the spectacle of them united made him wonder if the fumes from his cauldron had affected his usually razor-sharp wit.

"Hello, Severus," Draco said with a cheeky smile.

"Well," Severus managed, recovering the power of speech. "Mr Malfoy and Mr Potter. What a charming couple you make. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

"It's about Hermione, Professor Snape," Harry said quietly with a glance across the square. "I wonder if we could speak to you inside?"

Severus looked from Draco to Harry, still finding it difficult to believe that such an unlikely pair stood before him. He'd had no idea they were even on speaking terms.

Trying to hide his curiosity, he stood aside and gestured for them to enter. "Be my guest." He led them to the front room. "Can I offer you a drink?" he asked, crossing to the cabinet.

Draco shook his head. "No, thanks. Susan will murder me if she finds out I had a drink this early in the day."

Severus's lip curled in amusement. "I see. How very Hufflepuff of you, Draco. And you, Mr Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm sure one won't hurt. A Firewhisky, please."

Severus regarded Harry as he poured their drinks. They'd only spoken once since the defeat of Voldemort, and as he poured two generous measures of Firewhisky, he noted the premature flecks of grey in Harry's hair. Although he still looked like his father, the Potter boy had aged beyond his years. Harry returned his inquisitive gaze, and Severus was relieved to find that he was no longer held hostage by Lily Potter's eyes.

He crossed the room and handed Harry his drink. "Well, gentlemen," he said, taking the armchair opposite them. "What is it that concerns you about the former Miss Granger?"

Draco and Harry exchanged a glance.

"Susan accepted a job as an administrative assistant in the Department of Mysteries just before Christmas," Draco began.

Severus nodded. "Yes, Cordelia has mentioned it."

"I shouldn't be telling you this, Severus. I could really get Susan into trouble, but we don't know what else there is to be done ..."

"You know I wouldn't betray your confidence, Draco," Severus said impatiently, gesturing for him to continue. His mouth had gone dry, and he knew something was very wrong.

"Hermione hasn't turned up at work for the past two weeks," Draco explained. "She hasn't contacted them to explain, and their owls have gone unanswered. Primrose Chuckley has called to the house twice, but the house-elf has told her nobody's home. On Friday evening they issued Hermione with a full dismissal."

Severus frowned.

"Ginny and Susan work on the same floor at the Ministry and are quite good friends, so they got talking about it all," Harry said. "We sent Hermione and Theo an invitation to dinner about ten days ago, and when we didn't hear from them, we got worried. You know what Hermione's like, sir, she's over-efficient if anything, and it's not at all like her to fail to reply to an owl."

"Perhaps they've decided to take off around the world again," Severus suggested. "It's not unlike Theo to disappear without letting us know."

"But it is unlike Hermione," Harry insisted. "What's more, Susan and Ginny called to the house last weekend, but were told by the house-elf that Theo had gone away. Ginny tried to ask her about Hermione, but she told them to leave and shut the door in their faces."

Draco continued, "Harry and Ron know Hermione's parents quite well, so they called there yesterday. The Grangers don't know where she is either. I've sent numerous owls to Theo, but he hasn't answered any of them."

"Our wives suggested that Draco and I approach them together. We called to their house a few minutes ago," Harry said, "and the elf, Moe, said that Theo has gone away and Hermione is not receiving any visitors."

Severus pressed tips of his fingers together and looked at his guests. "What's your conclusion, gentlemen?"

"I think they've broken up,' Draco said. "Theo's fucked off, and Hermione has locked herself in the house. She's either bollixed drunk or gone as batty as a ... well, a bat."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Very eloquently put, Draco. And your opinion, Mr Potter?"

"I think Draco's probably right. I'm very, very worried about Hermione, sir. She's an over-achiever who's never failed a test in her life. If her marriage has fallen apart, I think she'll take it as a failure on her part. I don't think she'll handle it well. She's rather ... highly strung."

Severus was impressed. It seemed that this mature Harry Potter knew his friend well. He looked from Harry to Draco. "Why have you come here to tell me this?"

"We were hoping you might know what was going on. More importantly, you're family," Draco said. "The elf has put up some sort of magical barrier, but you'll be able to cross it. We couldn't get a foot in the door."

"I know you and Hermione haven't seen eye to eye in the past, sir," Harry added, "but I know you're on speaking terms now, and I'm very worried about her. Things must be pretty bad for her to just not turn up at work."

Severus was inclined to agree. "I haven't seen either of them for some three weeks, I admit, but you must understand that this isn't unusual. We do not live in each other's pockets, despite the fact that they are only across the road. But still, I find it hard to believe that Theo would have just left his wife without saying anything to his mother." But was that really so difficult to imagine? Would it actually surprise him at all if Theo had just left without having the courage to face ridicule or disapproval? He sighed. "What do you expect me to do?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "We expect you to find out what's going on. You're his step-father."

Severus's eyes narrowed. "I became his step-father when he was already a man, Draco. He does not see me as a father."

"Well, where's Cordelia, then?" Draco asked.

"She's visiting friends. I don't expect her back until Monday evening."

Draco smiled. "Well then, Severus, it's all up to you!"

Severus grunted. "You think Hermione Granger will speak to me, of all people?"

"You're the only one who can get in," Draco said with a shrug.

Harry said, "Sometimes when people are feeling hopeless, they respond to someone, well ..."

"Yes?" Severus asked, amused.

"Authoritative," Harry finished.

"I see you've mastered the art of political correctness." Severus uttered another sigh. "Very well. I will try to determine what's going on."

"Thank you very much, sir," Harry said.

"Severus," Draco drawled. "You're my knight in shining armour."

"Do you want me to change my mind, Draco?"

"No, sorry," Draco said, thumping Harry on the arm. "Let's go, Potter, before my big gob gets us in trouble."

Harry rose and looked at Severus once more. "If you talk to her, would you ask her to contact us, please?"

Severus gave a curt nod and then showed them to the front door. He would get little brewing accomplished today, and the clients he supplied would not be happy. But it couldn't be helped; he had Hermione, Theo, and the apparently shattered pieces of their marriage to deal with first.

***

Severus had been knocking on Hermione and Theo's front door for over two minutes. What little patience he possessed was dwindling, and he was on the verge of blasting the lock apart. He stepped away from the door and glanced at the windows of the upper floors. Where on earth was Lance? He reached for the brass knocker once more, but before his fingers had found purchase, the door opened. He looked down to find a rather sheepish-looking Moe peering through the gap.

"Moe! What is the meaning of this? What is going on?"

Moe looked up at him with her big, solemn eyes. "I don't know what you is talking about, Master Severus, sir."

He scowled. "You know all too well what I'm talking about, Moe. I've summoned you three times over the past few days, and you've not once responded. Hermione's friends have called here on a number of occasions and have been refused entry. Would you care to explain?"

The house-elf crossed her arms stubbornly. "I is busy, Master Severus. Miss Hermione is busy, too."

"Really?" he sneered. This was ludicrous. Here he was, standing on the street, arguing with a house-elf. "Where is Theo?"

An expression of anger came over the elf's wrinkled face. "He is gone away, sir."

"Gone away where? And where is Hermione?"

"Miss Hermione is not feeling well and is not wanting any visitors."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Moe. I know you've placed enchantments on the house to stop anyone from entering, but I am family, and you have no right to refuse me entry. Do you understand?"

Moe looked suddenly distressed, and he could sense the magical barriers she had placed on the house falter. She pressed her lips together in a stubborn line, but took a step backwards to allow him enter.

"Thank you, Moe," he said gently. He looked about him as he stepped into the hallway. The little sideboards were coated in a thin layer of dust. He frowned. Whatever the elf had been up to, she'd been neglecting her usual duties. He had never seen this house in anything other than pristine order.

He returned his scrutiny to Moe. She stood with her hands behind her back and her head bowed, looking intently at the carpet and avoiding his gaze.

"What's been going on, Moe?"

She just shrugged.

"Is Lance home?" he asked.

"No, sir," she replied. "He is gone to his friend in Wales: Newt Scamander."

"Is he, indeed? How long has he been gone?"

Moe still refused to meet his gaze. "Three weeks. They is gone looking for Dugbogs and Clabberts."

Severus shook his head. "Lancelot Mill has gone looking for Dugbogs at his age? I would have thought he'd have more sense." He looked at the frail old elf and felt a stab of sympathy for her. "Moe, I know something is going on. Theo has left Hermione, hasn't he?"

She covered her face with her bony hands and began to sob, her little shoulders heaving. Severus lowered himself to one knee, his face level with Moe's.

"Is it true, Moe? Has he left her?"

Moe gave a nod. "Master Theodore is a bad, bad boy!" she said, blowing her nose on a corner of her little pink apron. "He is not deserving Miss Hermione. All she is wanting is babies! He is a bad, bad husband."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "It's very important that I speak with Hermione, Moe. Is she here?"

The house-elf started to sob again. "She is not coming out of her room. I is giving her all her favourite things to eat, but she is not eating any of it. She is just sad."

"Everything will be fine, Moe," he said, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder. "You've done very well. I'm going to go downstairs and try to talk to her, all right?"

Moe nodded miserably.

"Theo was making her sad, Moe," he added. "She will come to realise that she's better off without him."

She dried her tears on her apron and looked at him with her round eyes. "You is making her happy again?"

"I will try," he said.

He headed for the stairs, hardly able to believe he was doing this. Surely this was a task for a woman? Damn Theo! He would have thought the boy might have had a little more decency than to just flee the scene unannounced. With a deep sigh, he headed for the basement.

When he reached the door of the master bedroom, he paused; he had the uncanny knack of making Hermione Granger to cry, and he guessed she had probably done little else for the past two weeks. With a reminder to himself to curb his biting tongue, he knocked softly on the door. There was no response. He knocked louder.

"Miss Granger, I know you're in there, and I would like a word, if you please," he said.

He could hear the creak of the bedsprings, but there was no response.

"Hermione, there are quite a few people who are concerned for your well-being, and if you do not open the door, I'll be forced to enter against your wishes."

He hadn't really expected her to respond, but before he'd lifted his wand to open the lock, the sound of footsteps was followed by a loud click. The door was flung open, and he was confronted by a tangled mass of brown curly hair.

"Have you no respect for my privacy?" she snapped.

"Have you no respect for your friends' and family's peace-of-mind?" he responded.

"I doubt you've been fretting about me, Severus Snape," she said, her voice shaking.

"I have not been fretting about you, that is true, but what about Harry and Ginny? Your other friends? Your parents?" he asked. "What about Primrose Chuckley and your employers?"

She leaned against the frame of the door, and he used her momentary silence as an opportunity to examine her. Her hair was often wild, but he'd never seen it in such an unkempt state. There were dark circles beneath her eyes, and despite the fact that she was dressed in a pair of baggy silk pyjamas, he could tell she'd lost weight.

"Primrose Chuckley and my employers?" she hissed. "So people have been talking behind my back?"

He could tell by the trembling of her lower lip that she was close to tears. "Has Theo left you, Hermione?" he asked as kindly as he could.

She met his gaze, the set of her jaw defiant. "Yes, he has," she said, a catch in her voice. "Have you come to gloat? To say 'I told you so'?"

He shook his head. "I may not be a pleasant man, Hermione Granger, but it gives me no pleasure to see a young woman in distress. I may have once made the misguided decision to become a Death Eater, but I've never derived enjoyment from other people's pain."

A tear rolled down her cheek, and she brushed it away with the sleeve of her pyjamas. "I don't want any visitors, thank you. I just want to be left alone."

"I'm not a mere visitor. I've come to help," he explained. "I've not come to gloat. What's done is done, and there is little point in saying 'I told you so'. We have much to discuss, but your bedroom is certainly not the place for such a conversation. I will await you in the living room. You have ten minutes to dress while I prepare tea."

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and strode to the kitchen. Moe sat at the pine table, dabbing at her eyes and snuffling loudly. One end of the table was covered in tiny white baby clothes, and Severus knew a moment of panic: surely Hermione wasn't pregnant?

He gingerly picked up a little sock as if it were a Flobberworm. "What on earth is this, Moe?"

"They is for Padma's babies," Moe said with a loud sniff.

He breathed a sigh of relief and lifted an empty kettle from the stove.

"Master Severus!" Moe exclaimed, looking scandalised. "What do you think you is doing?"

"I'm preparing tea, Moe. I imagine Miss Hermione could rather use a cup."

The house-elf snatched the kettle from him. "I is making the best tea in London," she said, frowning. "You go."

Severus was relieved to see her restored to her usual officious self. "Perhaps something light to eat. Does she like toast, Moe?"

Moe shook her head. "She is liking crumpets with raspberry jam."

"That would be wonderful. We will be in the living room."

He left the kitchen and headed for the stairs. He could hear the shower running in the master bedroom. Satisfied that Hermione was pulling herself together, he ascended to the living room.

Moe soon arrived with a tray of tea and the promised crumpets, and Hermione followed a minute or two later. She had pulled her damp hair into a ponytail and was dressed in jeans and a blue jumper. The defiance with which she had confronted him when she had flung open her bedroom door had dissipated, and she took the armchair beside the fire with downcast eyes. He watched as she tucked her bare feet beneath her and started to chew nervously at her fingernails. Her jumper hung loosely from her thin shoulders.

He gestured to the tea tray on the table in front of her. "It would reassure me to see you eat something, Hermione."

She poured herself a cup of tea, ignoring the plate of crumpets. She sat back and sipped at the tea, avoiding his inquisitive gaze.

"I cannot understand why you've locked yourself away in this unbecoming fit of self-pity," he began.

Her gaze moved to meet his. "My husband has left me."

Severus shrugged. "You've been unhappy since you returned to England. You might have thought your regular public appearances were enough to hoodwink us all into thinking you blissfully wed, but your unhappiness has been all too evident to me."

"Does that alter the fact that I'm nothing more than an abandoned wife?" she asked.

"Spare me your pathetic self-indulgence, Hermione. It doesn't suit you." His words might have lacked sympathy, but he made sure the tone of voice was not unkind. "Is there not a part of you that recognises that you may, perhaps, be better off without your husband?"

She stared at him. "I've failed, Severus. We weren't even married two years!"

He gave a derisive grunt. Harry had diagnosed her correctly. "Marriage is not an exam. There's a subtle distinction between not succeeding and failing. Your marriage was not a success; it does not necessarily follow that you failed."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Very well. I didn't succeed, as you'd warned I would not. You were right. Well done."

He was annoyed. "I've already told you I didn't come here to gloat. Technically, I'm part of this family, and as such it gives me no joy to learn that you and Theo have parted company. Do you understand?"

She did not answer him, but sipped at her tea and stared at the carpet.

He sighed. "Are you going to tell me what's happened?"

"We had an argument about our future. Theo wanted to travel again; I wanted to stay here and have a ... a career," she explained. "He said he was unhappy in London, and I said I would be unhappy to go travelling again. He left and didn't return that evening. I slept in the guest room – I'd spent the previous night at St. Mungo's with Padma, so I was exhausted. I heard him return in the early hours of the morning, and when I woke up the next day, all his belongings were gone."

Severus frowned. "Did you argue regularly?"

She shook her head. "We've only ever argued three times. We fought once in Amsterdam when he got stoned; once in Kiev when I signed the Ministry of Magic employment contract; and once two weeks ago when I refused to leave England. We've only ever argued when Theo didn't get his own way. The rest of the time it was just ... well ..."

"Empty silences?" he asked.

She met his gaze with tear-filled eyes and nodded. "Empty silences."

Quickly Conjuring a handkerchief, he tossed it onto her lap. "Did he tell you where he was going? Did he leave a note?"

"I've no idea where he is, but yes, he did leave a note."

"Which said what, exactly?"

"Not much. He said he was sorry that our marriage had come to an end, but that he could no longer stand being stuck in England. He said he didn't want to be contacted and he would not return at any stage in the near future."

"I see. How very cowardly of him."

"How very Slytherin of him," she said.

He folded his arms across his chest and tried to subdue his sudden burst of anger. "Shall we descend to belittling our mutual Houses, Hermione, or shall we attempt to have a constructive debate as befits two adults?"

She pressed her fingers to her forehead. "I'm sorry, Severus. That was uncalled for. I'm just drained: I haven't eaten for days."

He crossed the room and placed a crumpet on a plate. He laid it carefully on the arm of her chair. "Then eat," he said, returning to his own chair in a flurry of black.

She picked up the crumpet and began to nibble at the edge.

"I don't wish to pry, Hermione, but I was dismayed to learn about your dismissal from the Department of Mysteries."

She gasped, her eyes wide. "Who told you about that?"

"I had a visit this morning from an unlikely couple: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. They were both anxious as to your wellbeing."

Her eyes narrowed. "They knew about my job? So the whole goddamn Ministry has been talking behind my back?"

"No, the whole goddamn Ministry has not been talking behind your back. As well you know, Susan has been working in the Department of Mysteries for a number of weeks. She and Ginny are friends. The only people who suspect that there's anything amiss are Harry, Draco and their mutual wives. Primrose Chuckley is also worried, by all accounts." He paused and sipped his tea. "Why did you do it, Hermione? Why did you throw away such a highly prized career?"

"I haven't admitted it to anybody, but I hated my job at the Department of Mysteries. It wasn't at all what I'd expected."

"It took you six months to reach that conclusion?"

She shook her head. "I realised within the first month that it wasn't for me. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to give Theodore Nott the satisfaction of knowing I'd made the wrong decision. He would have insisted we go travelling again, and much as I disliked working at the Ministry, I would much rather have continued there than leave England."

He fell silent for a moment. He was gratified to see her reach for another crumpet and slather it with a thick layer of jam. Her cheeks had begun to regain the faintest touch of colour, and she looked less defeated than she had when she'd entered the room. He considered his next question carefully.

"I fail to understand your behaviour since Theo has left. Did you love him?"

She looked at him aghast. "Of course I didn't love him! I mean ... I'd hoped that maybe I would, someday. But we were just too different, as you had tried to point out."

"Then why this theatrical production? Why have you curled into a ball and hidden from the world as if distraught?"

"Because I am distraught! Not because I have a broken heart, but because I've been left in limbo, Severus. Can't you understand?"

He snorted. "A limbo you have only intensified further by your casual abandonment of your job."

"Fuck the job!" she said angrily, making him raise an eyebrow. "The job is the least of my worries! He's left me without bothering to divorce me. I'm still his wife; I'm still wearing this bloody Goblin-wrought wedding ring, and I can't take it off! If we had divorced, I would have received a settlement, and I would have been able to afford somewhere to live. As it is, I carry his name; I'm still his wife! I've been left without a position in society and without a home. And you're right, I've made the whole thing worse, and now I have no income. But I hated the job, and I'm not sorry to have given it up."

Severus raised his hand to his brow. He had a headache brewing. "Hermione, I never would have believed you capable of such histrionics. Are you blind, girl? Can you not see that he's left you in the best possible circumstances?"

"How on earth can I be in the best possible circumstances? I'm an abandoned wife! People like Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini will have a field day when they hear that a pure-blood couldn't stick with a Mudblood like me for more than a year and a half."

He gave a short laugh. "Since when have you given a damn what people like Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini think? Do you really think you're the first victim of the Marriage Act? Have you even considered the relationships of the very couples who were with you at Belgrave House?"

"I've heard rumours about Blaise and Katie, but I thought everybody else was doing fine."

"Well, that's where you were very wrong. Dennis Creevey and Demelza Robbins have filed for divorce, and I'm almost certain that one of your fellow Gryffindors will soon follow."

"What?" she asked. "Who?"

"I had matters to discuss with Minerva McGonagle last week. I was invited to dine with the rest of the Hogwart's staff, and it is obvious that Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbott are not at all content. You're incredibly naive if you think you're the only one whose arranged marriage has come to naught. There have been a number of successful marriages, it's true: Draco and Susan among them. But they've been greatly outweighed by those that have failed. Yes, the Marriage Act has been a triumph as regards birth rates, but it has been a dismal failure as regards divorce and separation rates."

"I still can't see why you think Theo has left me in a good position."

Severus gave an exasperated sigh. "If you'd divorced two weeks ago, what would you have been legally obliged to do?" he asked as if speaking to a first-year.

"What do you mean?"

"Merlin give me patience," he muttered. "You would have been legally obliged to remarry within six months! Your estranged husband has granted you immunity from the Marriage Act while simultaneously ridding you of his objectionable presence."

"That is true," she admitted. "But where am I meant to go? What am I meant to do?"

"Theo has deserted you, so according to wizarding law, everything he has left behind is yours. He's a wealthy man: you'll want for nothing."

Hermione looked disgusted. "I don't want his money. I don't want anyone's money!"

"Then find another job and reassert your independence," he said.

"But where am I supposed to go?" she asked. "I'm not moving back to my parents' house. I ... I just couldn't do it. I love them, but they didn't approve of any of this. I want to stay in the wizarding world."

"Then continue to live here. The moment he left you, this property became yours, with the exception of Lance's half of the building, obviously. You are still, in the eyes of wizarding law and society, part of this family, while Theo, being the one legally in the wrong, is considered an outcast."

"He abandons me, but I'm still meant to be one of the Mill family? I'm meant to believe that?"

"Hermione," he said, gritting his teeth, "you're viewing things from a Muggle perspective. Wizarding society is much more archaic. The Mill family will be horrified at what Theo has done. They will continue to regard you as part of the family. I once told you that you and I would never be anywhere but on the periphery of the Mill family and that is true, but they are an old wizarding family who uphold ancient wizarding values, and they will sympathise with you and not with Theo, I assure you."

She looked around the sitting room. "I like it here," she admitted, "and I'm awfully fond of Moe and Lance, but I can't accept money from them."

"Then get another job," he said impatiently.

Hermione gave a deep sigh. "That's easier said than done in wizarding London. I've been looking for another job behind Theo's back for months."

Suddenly desirous for this interview to be at an end, he stood and looked out the window across Kensington Square, his thoughts on his laboratory and the ever-increasing backlog of potions that required brewing.

It was then, unbidden, that the solution came to him. Hermione. He needed an assistant; she needed a job. She was the only applicant who had been sufficiently qualified for the position, and she had seemed genuinely fascinated by his laboratory.

No sooner had the idea occurred to him than he dismissed it. It was ludicrous. He had meant what he'd said many months previously: she would make an infuriating colleague. He lacked tolerance, and her constant chatter would surely drive anyone to distraction.

He turned and observed her from across the room. There was no doubt that she had changed greatly since her time as his student. He had read the references in her job application, and he had been genuinely impressed. She was the only graduate in her year to have been awarded her degree at master's level: she would make a skilled apprentice.

And there was something else: He owed her a debt. She had saved his life; he owed her a favour. Surely he could not just sit back and do nothing when he held a solution in the palm of his hand? It irked him to see such an intelligent young witch so despondent. He looked at her hollowed cheeks and the dark circles beneath her eyes, and he remembered how she had looked when he'd opened the door of her bedroom on the night of her wedding. She had been so beautiful, standing there in her backless gown.

With uncharacteristic speed, he made his decision.

"I may have the answer to your problem," he said, taking his seat once more.

She poured herself another cup of tea. "I'm listening," she said.

He laced his fingers. "I would consider offering you the position of Potions assistant, if you're still interested."

She sat forward, eyes wide. "Are you serious? You'd really consider taking me on as your apprentice?"

He gave a curt nod. "Purely on a trial basis. I'm sure the salary exceeds that of a first-year Unspeakable."

She nodded eagerly. "Yes, it does. At least, the salary you advertised did. But I ... I thought you said we'd be incompatible? You said that I made an interesting dinner guest, but I'd make a terrible colleague."

He shrugged. "Prove me wrong."

"What if it was a complete disaster?"

"That's precisely why we would have a trial period of three months. If after that time either of us is dissatisfied, we can terminate the contract."

"I ... I'm very tempted to accept, but I have to ask ... why are you doing this?"

"You need a job; I need an assistant. It's as simple as that, Hermione. I'm sincere when I tell you that I'm in dire need of a second pair of hands. I have many, many clients who are impatient to have their orders filled. I've resorted to brewing at the weekends, and I've no wish to continue under such pressure."

She frowned. "Might I have time to consider your offer?"

He was suddenly irritated. She should have been grovelling at his feet, not considering his offer. "I'll allow you until tomorrow night to make your decision," he said gruffly. "If you haven't accepted by then, I will have to advertise the position. I spoke the truth when I said I need a second pair of hands. My business has grown beyond my expectations, and I'm loath to discontinue any of my current contracts."

"Thank you very much for your offer, Severus, and I ..." Her eyes filled with tears again. "I would dearly love to take that job, but I'm still uncertain about continuing to live as one of the family. What will people think?"

He frowned at her. "Hermione, what has happened to you? You were often at the receiving end of prejudice at Hogwarts, but it rarely seemed to bother you. You wore your intelligence like a banner and didn't care what your classmates thought of you. And yet, since you became engaged to Theodore, you have not behaved at all like yourself."

She shrugged and picked up the handkerchief once more, dabbing at her eyes. "I know. I've been a fool. I should have listened to you."

"I must leave now," he announced, impatient to return to his work. "But let me reiterate once more: the Mills will be appalled by what Theodore has done. You will have their full support. I doubt very much that news of what has happened will spread beyond Cordelia and Lance. If you need any further evidence of their support, Moe's protection of you over the past fortnight should suffice."

He stood to leave, and she rose from her chair, her jumper hanging from her thin frame. She walked him to the door.

"Thank you, Severus. For everything. You've been more than kind."

He gave a brisk nod. "You have until midnight tomorrow to make your decision."

She nodded her understanding and toyed with her pendant. He looked down and realised she was wearing the heavy emerald necklace he had presented to her on her wedding day. Suddenly, she tore the pendant from her neck, breaking the delicate chain and hurling the piece of jewellery across the room.

Severus raised his eyebrows. "That was a Mill family heirloom. Have you any idea how much it's worth?"

"Quite frankly, Severus," she replied, "I don't give a fuck about Mill family heirlooms at the moment."

He smirked. "That's the spirit. I will gladly take righteous anger over indulgent self-pity. The latter does not become you, Hermione."

He turned from her and stepped into the early March sunshine.

"Just don't offer me the job out of pity," she said.

He turned to her. "I assure you, I'm offering you the job purely from a sense of mutual need." He began to walk down the steps to the footpath. "Besides," he added. "You have a choice. I had no choice but to accept your pity on the night you saved my life."

Before she could reply, he walked away, leaving her to make her decision.

When he got to his own house, he Summoned some parchment and a quill. He hurriedly scribbled two notes: one to Cordelia and one to Lance, requesting their immediate return to London.

Once the notes had been sent, he made his way to his laboratory, and as he attempted to reignite the flame beneath his platinum-lined cauldron, he realised that his hands were shaking. He closed his eyes for a moment and breathed deeply.

He had been a fool to offer her the job so impulsively. It was entirely out of character for him to act so hastily. While part of him hated seeing Hermione in her current state and wanted her to accept the position, another part of him desperately wanted her to decline, for he had no idea where such an improbable partnership would lead them.