Chapter Four

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! Things have been up and down for our couple – and this chapter will be no exception!

By the time a knock came and Ron let himself in, Hermione had composed herself. She looked up with a smile that felt as false as it looked. Ron raised an eyebrow and she dropped the pretence immediately.

"All sorted?" she asked.

He nodded, sitting down opposite her.

"Yeah. Snape hadn't done much; the bloke had fainted from the shock. We patched him up, Obliviated him, and sent him on his way. He thinks your appointment was cancelled because he had to go to the dentist."

"Thank you." Hermione reached out and patted his hand. "I really appreciate you and Harry coming to sort it out, Ron. I would have been in real trouble if it had been anyone else."

Ron waved her thanks away. "You've saved us enough times. I think we probably still owe you. Oh, Harry Obliviated the six Muggles who saw you leave, too. Snape went home to sulk. He'll probably come storming in once he's had a chance to work himself up."

"I doubt it. I quit."

"You what?" Ron gaped at her.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Close your mouth, Ron. I left because I quit. I don't have the strength or will to fight him at every turn and then to fix up his mess. He just does not listen to me – what am I meant to do? If I let him continue, it'll finish me; I'll be a laughing stock. At least this way I can regroup and try and get new clients."

"Hermione..." For once, Ron didn't have anything to say.

Hermione glanced at her calendar and smiled. "Should I make a note of the date?"

"Oi!" He found his voice quickly to protest. "It's not often you give up, Hermione. I'm allowed to be shocked."

"I can give you fifty good reasons why I should terminate the contract now, and none for why I should carry on," she said promptly.

Ron rolled his eyes.

"Figures you'd make a list."

"Shut up."

"Alright, if your mind is made up then I know better than to try and change it. I've learnt that the hard way. I'll be telling Lav and Harry and Ginny, mind, so no promises about them." Ron pushed himself up and patted her shoulder. "It'll work out in the end."

"I hope so." Hermione gave him a quick smile. "Still on for Thursday?"

"Lav's cooking something spectacular, so she says."

"Ron, if it's food, you think it's spectacular."

"Yeah, I know." He grinned. "Later, Hermione."

"See you later." She waved cheerfully enough to convince him she'd be okay and then closed her eyes as the door shut. She had made a list of reasons to terminate the contract... but she'd been too afraid to make a list of reasons to try and fix things just in case the reasons were good. They would be. She already knew that. Without this contract, her business would be closing down, and she would have failed.

"I just cannot work with him," she whispered, folding her arms on the desk and resting her head on them. "The man is impossible."

A clink let her know that Sandra had understood her boss' distress and, in the manner of every British person under the sun, had made a cup of tea. Hermione didn't bother to raise her head.

"Sandra, I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I really did try." She closed her eyes to try and stop the tears that threatened again – honestly, since when did she cry so much? "He's impossible. He still sees me as his student, and there is nothing I can do to change that; without changing that, how can I help him?" She let out a sigh. "I was so hopeful... It would have been wonderful, if it had worked."

"I find it hard to believe one such as you would give up so easily, Miss Granger." Hermione sat bolt upright in her chair and found herself face to face with Snape. Sitting between them was a steaming cup of tea.

"Snape... What... Oh no!"

"Have you forgotten how to speak, Miss Granger? Truly, today is an excellent day."

"Get out of my office." Her voice was low and steady once she found it again. "I am terminating our contract. You have no business here."

"On the contrary. You will listen to me, Miss Granger, for once in your life. You are not a child any longer, and you cannot simply throw your toys out of your pram when things don't go your way." She opened her mouth to protest and was hit by a Silencio. Snape steepled his fingers and studied her carefully; when she reached for her wand, he snatched it out of her fingers.

"I do not wish for you to terminate our contract," he said simply. Hermione was so gobsmacked by this that she didn't notice the silencing spell being lifted. He set her wand down on the table. "I will speak and you will listen. At the end of it, if you still feel you wish to terminate the contract, I will sign whatever documents are required. I believe this is fair."

Hermione shook her head briefly to try and regain her senses.

"Fine, Professor. I'm listening."

"Good of you." He started to sneer and then it twisted into a grimace. "I have explained to you previously how difficult I find it to distance you from the student you were, Miss Granger. It is the curse of a teacher to always see former students as they were, waving hands or sticking gum to desks or losing points for indecent behaviour atop the Astronomy tower at night. Even now that I no longer teach, I regret that I cannot quite shake my former tendencies." He rose and began to pace her office.

"You, in particular, are unfortunate given the circumstances of your time at Hogwarts. Had you not been associated with Potter, had you simply kept your head down and worked, you would not have stood out so much. As it is, for seven years you, Potter and Weasley dominated the attention of every member of staff. We could not escape you, and as such, it is now extremely difficult to see past that. I appreciate that you are no longer a student. You are an allegedly competent businesswoman who, I am assured, is capable and intelligent. However, you are fighting seven years of prejudice." He was no longer looking at her; instead he was at the window, looking out.

"It is for that reason I have been somewhat difficult in our dealings, Miss Granger. I have been so accustomed to dismissing your every word, to belittling you frequently that breaking the habit is proving harder than I believed it would be. You have made every effort – that has not gone unnoticed – and I have repaid you with insults. This, I feel I must apologise for." He turned and she saw sincerity in his eyes and on his features. It was so unusual she couldn't speak.

"I do not wish for you to end our contract, Miss Granger. I have been reluctantly impressed with your work so far, particularly given the pressure I have been placing you under, and I would very much like for you to continue. I will make every effort to treat you as an adult and an equal in future."

"Hermione," she said faintly. He looked at her blankly. "I told you at the start to call me Hermione. Maybe if you think of me as Hermione, you can keep Miss Granger separate."

He nodded stiffly. "Perhaps it would be appropriate for you to address me by my given name, Miss..." She lifted a warning finger. "Hermione," he finished.

Hermione nodded. "I can do that, Severus." His spiel had stunned her, but she knew that every word spoken was the truth and was glad of it. Plus, an apology from Snape was so rare that she knew he felt badly about his behaviour.

"I may have been acting a bit childishly myself," she admitted. It wasn't fair for him to shoulder the blame himself when she'd intentionally left him in a situation she knew he couldn't handle. "As you said, it's hard to leave the past behind. I think we can both stand to try a little harder."

"Indeed." He folded his arms and stared down at her, though the malice was missing now. "Am I to assume that you wish to continue our business, Mi... Hermione?"

"Assume away," she smiled. "Harry and Ron smoothed matters over at the bank. I can reschedule our appointment."

"That would be appreciated." She made a note and looked up to see that Snape had begun to shift position as if he wanted to ask something else.

"Yes?"

"I would also appreciate it," the words came out slowly and she could see the effort behind them, "if you could attend Spinner's End at some point and fix the contraption."

"Your computer?"

"Yes. I had a visit from Arthur Weasley this afternoon, and now I find it is not responding in the slightest."

Hermione paled.

"You let Arthur Weasley near your computer?"

"Briefly. However." Snape coughed. "He was accompanied by George Weasley."

Hermione groaned. "What exactly is your computer doing?"

"I believe it is attempting to seduce me, Hermione."

"Seduce?" Snape was starting to blush! She wouldn't have believed it without seeing it, but there were definite spots of pink in his cheeks.

"It insists on displaying several rather disturbing pictures of ladies in... compromising positions."

Hermione restrained the urge to laugh. "George Weasley has filled your computer with pornography?"

"Apparently." He shifted uncomfortably. "I would be grateful for your discretion in this matter."

"I'll be over this evening to fix it," she promised. Snape looked relieved. "Now, I think I had better call the bank and start to set things straight there. And... Severus?" He was halfway to the door, but paused when she said his name, though he didn't turn around. "I really appreciate you coming to explain things," she said. He nodded and left as quietly as he had entered. Hermione gave a contented sigh and started writing owls to Harry and Ron immediately, before Ginny and Lavender broke down her door as Ron had threatened. As an afterthought she wrote one to George, demanding to know what he had done – forewarned was forearmed, and if she was going to have to clean god-knows-what off Snape's computer she deserved to know what she was dealing with.

One day, Hermione vowed as she approached Snape's door, she was going to hex George Weasley so badly he'd never play a practical joke again. His return owl had been rather cryptic. Naturally, Hermione had Floo called him and warned him that if he didn't furnish her with a full explanation, she would be explaining to Molly just what he'd done and why he and Arthur had been late home from work. The threat of his mother worked, as always, and George had finally confessed – he'd simply loaded some viruses onto Snape's computer from a floppy he'd had lying around. Originally he'd picked it up off Lee Jordan to install onto his father's laptop and embarrass him, but the opportunity had proved too tempting.

"Honestly, Hermione, the man needs to lighten up," he'd said after she'd finished ranting. "Maybe if he had a wank every now and then, he wouldn't be so uptight. I'm just providing inspiration, that's all. It's practically a public service."

"You'll be getting your Order of Merlin any day now," she'd answered sourly. "This is my business you're messing with, George. It's not just a prank."

"I'm sorry." He didn't sound it and she swore to write to Molly anyway. "Think of it this way, Hermione; next time you see him, you'll be wondering if he did have a wank to it. Bet you a Galleon he's well hung, too, with a nose like that – just imagine it!"

"George Weasley!"

Hermione severed the call, wrote to Molly and sent a Howler to George, then dashed out the door to fix Snape's computer before he lost his new-found patience with her. It was only now that she stood staring at Spinner's End that she realised George was right, and cursed anew.

"Get it together, Granger," she ordered under her breath before tapping on the door. It was opened quickly, and she faced Severus Snape once more.

"I've spoken to George," she said by way of greeting. "I know what he's done and how to fix it. Feel free to exact revenge on him."

Snape stood aside and allowed her entry. Hermione headed straight for the computer and burst out laughing when she spotted the cage, complete with mouse, still perched opposite it.

"Severus!" she exclaimed, delighted. "You kept the mouse!"

"Of course," he said, sounding bored. "I am a Potions Master, Hermione. I always need test subjects."

She clapped her hands to her mouth. "Test subjects? You can't be using it for experiments! That's inhumane!"

"It's a mouse. It doesn't mind what I put in its water bottle." He stared at her for a moment and then his lips twitched. "I find it extremely satisfying to poison it. At first, I contemplated calling it Potter, but then a more suitable name presented itself."

"I don't want to know..."

"Meet Granger." He rattled the cage, startling the mouse so that it ran and hid in a little tunnel that had appeared since last time.

"You named it after me?"

"Ten points to Gryffindor."

"You named a test subject after me?" She shook her head. "Severus Snape, I am starting to become convinced that you actually do have a sense of humour. Should I alert the Prophet?"

"Only if you are tired of carrying around your limbs and wish me to sever them from your body."

Hermione accepted this threat rather peacefully, knowing his reputation with the paper. She turned instead to the computer where an entirely nude blonde was lounging provocatively. It was replaced by a picture of a brunette with... no, she did not want to know what that was – then by a video of a redhead and a large... oh dear god she was going to kill George Weasley in the most painful way possible.

"I'll just clean this up, shall I?" she asked, her voice rather high as she sat down and began to rummage for her anti-virus disks.

"Please." Snape had moved away and was perusing his bookcase with feigned indifference. Hermione began by rebooting the computer and imagining George's painful death, so that she could ignore his words from earlier. Did he...? No, Hermione, you do not want to go there. Treating each other as adults is one thing; asking "So Severus, did you at least enjoy yourself while you waited?" is another.

"I ought to have made sure you had an anti-virus installed before," she said quietly. "I do apologise, Severus. I could have avoided this rather embarrassing situation."

"Contrary to what you may believe, Hermione, you do not in fact know everything, nor are you required to. I did not foresee a future where Arthur Weasley invited himself over to inspect the computer."

Hermione sighed. She should have seen it coming after mentioning it to the Muggle-mad man.

"I was however extremely curious as to the content being displayed by the computer," he continued. Hermione choked and stared wide-eyed at the screen, her mind fixated on Snape masturbating to the pictures. I am going to murder George.

"I was at first concerned that someone had breached the International Statute of Secrecy by providing Muggles with moving photographs," Snape continued, oblivious to her internal chanting of die, George, die. Hermione managed to breathe again, though she needed to thump her chest first. "Is everything okay?" he asked, oblivious to the now completely inappropriate thoughts running through her head.

"Er, yes, of course," she said, trying not to panic. "I'm sure you're familiar with films?"

"Indeed. One of my last ventures into the Muggle world was a trip to the cinema to see Star Wars."

"Star Wars? Right, of course. Late seventies. Good film. Anyway, what you were seeing wasn't an equivalent of magical photos. It was in fact closer to films; computers can play animations as well as displaying normal Muggle photos. I can understand your initial curiosity." There. A perfectly normal answer to a perfectly normal question without thinking of Snape wanking in any way, shape or... damn it, Hermione!

"You appear to be a bit flushed, Hermione. May I fetch you a drink?" He really was trying his best to, well, not be a bastard, she admitted. In fact, he was positively cordial.

"A glass of water would be lovely," she said, thankful when he retreated into the kitchen and she could focus on removing the viruses and mentally killing George Weasley. When Snape returned, she gratefully accepted the glass and gulped the water down, the cool liquid calming her more effectively than any amount of imagined murder had been able to.

"Thank you," she said, smiling up at him. He nodded and moved away, poking a small stick of carrot through the bars of Granger's cage before returning to his books. Hermione worked at the computer in silence for a bit and then turned to see Snape sitting with his nose buried in a book.

"This needs time to finish," she said, gesturing to the computer behind her. "What are you reading?" He lifted the book without tearing his eyes from the page so that she could read the cover. Ashwinder Eggs And You: Ten Lesser-Known Uses.

"Ashwinder eggs? Aren't they used in love potions?"

"They have many uses, Miss Granger, most of which have been lost to obscurity thanks to the public's demand for love potions." He didn't even look up.

"Hermione," she said, reaching over and pulling his book down. He glanced at her.

"Pardon?"

"You called me Miss Granger again." He was silent as he no doubt replayed the brief conversation in his mind, then he winced.

"I apologise. Old habits." He set the book aside tenderly, rather akin to the reverence with which she treated her reading material. "You appear to be idle."

"That's an odd way of putting it. Yes, I am. The computer needs time to complete the necessary scans and fixes. I can't do anything until it finishes, and I won't leave until I'm certain it's free from viruses." She tilted her head, studying him carefully. "You're doing very well, you know."

"I'm sorry?"

"You said old habits and all that, but you haven't insulted me once tonight."

"I can rectify that if it troubles you."

"I wouldn't want to put you to the trouble." She grinned and was both surprised and pleased to see a brief smile flicker across his lips. It lasted less than a second, but it was there. "So... love potions?"

"They also have Dark uses, as you would know if you had pursued Potions further. Love potions allow one to manipulate the mind and senses. A few alterations and you have an altogether more sinister concoction." He fell into lecture-mode effortlessly, years of being a teacher coming to the fore. Hermione shivered.

"It makes love potions seem rather sinister themselves. I remember Ron being hit by one in our fifth year."

"Ah, yes. One of Romilda Vane's, if memory serves me. Adequately made, but her plan was poorly executed. Had she been a Slytherin, no doubt Mr Potter would be married to her now as opposed to Miss Weasley." There was no hint of jest in his words, not that she could really tell if he was joking or not anyway. She chose to answer without commenting on his opinion of Romilda's grand plan.

"Ginny would have killed her," she said. "And possibly Harry, too, so in the long run it's probably for the best that it backfired."

Snape actually snorted a laugh. "The infamous Weasley temper. I often wondered what would happen if Molly Weasley were to encounter the Dark Lord whilst in a rage. I believe the wars would have been a great deal shorter."

Hermione snickered.

"You heard about what happened to Bellatrix, I take it?"

"Several times. I asked Arthur to try and persuade Molly to give me the memory just for the satisfaction of watching it with a nice glass of Firewhiskey, but I don't think he dared do it."

"He's a sensible man." Hermione curled her feet up as best she could and studied them carefully. "We are sorry, you know."

"For what are you apologising?"

"For leaving you. In the Shack." She had found a thread loose on one of her socks and was toying with it. "We thought you were dead."

Snape sighed.

"Must we discuss this now? It has been five years."

"I know." Hermione shrugged, surprised by how emotional she felt but determined to have her say. "It's haunted me, always. How we left you for dead. If we'd stayed a bit longer – if we'd tried a bit harder – maybe we could have saved you."

Snape studied her carefully, his black eyes scrutinising her face until she turned it away in shame. When he spoke, it was surprisingly gentle.

"At the time, I was dead. Poppy later informed me that I had been dead for several minutes when she arrived." Hermione's eyes widened but she remained silent. "You are aware of Mrs Weasley's remarkable clock, I believe? Hogwarts has one similar for its staff members. It would be impossible to monitor each student, but as the staff tend to be older and more likely to be alone in dangerous situations – brewing complex potions, for example, or performing experimental charms – then it is essential for her to be able to monitor our well-being. After the events of the Shack, my hand was pointing to 'Mortal Peril', and under the terms of her contract and job description, Poppy was obliged to come to my assistance, regardless of her personal feelings. Rest assured that at that moment she would have been quite happy to watch me die, but she is a professional, a remarkable woman, and obeyed her oath even then." He hadn't torn his gaze from hers, never blinked. "From what I have pieced together, Poppy arrived mere moments after you left. She was able to heal me enough to move me to the Hospital Wing. I remained there until the Wizengamot granted an unconditional pardon for my crimes, upon which I was transferred to St Mungo's. I assume you are aware of the rest, given that you visited me once."

Hermione nodded, a lump in her throat.

"Poppy informed me, once we had laid the past to rest, that it took every ounce of her skill to bring me back. Faced with that, Miss Granger, do you truly believe a seventh year could have saved me?"

Hermione choked back a sob and gave a watery smile instead.

"You called me Miss Granger again."

"You are acting like a child."

"Maybe." Hermione turned back to the computer to check its progress. "Is the mouse really called Granger?"

"Of course." Snape rose and took her glass to refill it. "Had it been black or red, it would have been Potter or Weasley, naturally."

"Naturally." She laughed softly. "And if it was white?"

"Malfoy."

She burst out laughing, her tears fading quickly, and turned her full attention back to the computer. It turned out he really did have a sense of humour and it spared no one. Then again, she doubted he was still friends with any of the Malfoys, regardless – or perhaps because of – their past. Still, she felt better for having actually broached the topic of the war with him, even if he had had to resort to calling her Miss Granger to snap her out of her sudden mood.

"Best leave it lie now," she muttered.

"Exactly." He had appeared from nowhere and she jumped in fright. "I find that peace seldom lasts, Miss Granger – or is it Hermione now?"

"Hermione," she confirmed. "I'm over my relapse."

"Hermione. It is best just to be content while it lasts, and to make the most of it."

"You're right. I'm sorry for bringing it up."

He nodded once to acknowledge her apology and then returned to his book; probably for the safest, she conceded, and silence reigned as she finished cleaning up his computer. At last she was satisfied, after implementing every security measure she could think of up to and including warding the chair and desk so that George Weasley couldn't go near it. Snape watched impassively as she finished, then rose as she turned.

"All fixed," she said cheerfully. "The bank has rescheduled for Friday at three and BT are coming to sort out your phone and internet in about ten days."

Snape stared down at her.

"I will require more appropriate Muggle business wear this time. See to it."

Back to orders, she thought, suppressing a sigh. At least he was co-operating.

"If you owl me your sizes, I'll have something delivered before Friday," she promised. "And Severus, do try not to let any of the Weasleys near your computer again." He muttered something uncharitable about the entire family. "And... Severus?" She had been heading for the door, but turned around on an impulse. "Thank you for being willing to give this another go."

"Be off with you," he said with a glare, though she was pretty sure this time he was covering up other, more awkward emotions. She settled for waving goodbye and seeing herself out. Once out in the cool night air she let the tears come, feeling as though she had finally been forgiven for the past.