Chapter Six: Connected

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Chapter Six: Connected

"I've got it!" Hermione jumped up from her desk, brandishing a piece of parchment. "It's so bloody obvious; we should have thought of it before."

Snape roused from his doze on the couch, having long since given up watching her work. "What's obvious?"

"The wards. They're out of balance due to all the Dark Magic used during the war with Voldemort. That's why the problem is so pronounced at Hogwarts. Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade were exposed to some Death Eater activity, but nothing like that at Hogwarts. I'd be willing to bet if we checked Malfoy Manor, the same problems will be occurring there."

"But Lucius would never admit to any deficiencies in his wards, so it has never been reported." Snape rolled over the implications in his mind. "If it was the Dark Magic used in the war that caused the problem, why hasn't it become evident until now?"

Hermione pointed to some obscure figures on her parchment. "Because, as you can see here, the damage caused a slow decay of the wards, not an outright failure. They have only now deteriorated enough to cause a breakdown in their function."

Snape leaned over her shoulder and studied her figures. He could not refute her conclusion. "We only need to find a source of pure, light magic, and the problem will be solved. Any ideas?"

Hermione forgot the pleasant, warm sensation of his chest against her back when inspiration struck. "Of course! We need Neville!"

"Tell me you don't mean Longbottom."

Snape's sudden withdrawal left her oddly bereft. "Of course I mean Neville Longbottom. He's started a business developing gardens of magical plants for wealthy customers."

"I thought he was Pomona Sprout's apprentice."

"He was. But I heard he enjoyed teaching even less than you did. He left Hogwarts last year to start his own nursery."

"And how is that of any use?"

"Simple. We advise the Ministry to commission Neville to design gardens for Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, and Hogsmeade. By only using the most magically pure and positive plants and flowers, they should redress the balance of negative energy left by the Dark Magic used in the past."

"I suppose you want unicorns and other creatures imported into the gardens as well." Snape remained unconvinced.

"That's ridiculous. They live in forests, not gardens. But there's no reason not to try and find some more unicorns to populate the Forbidden Forest. The numbers there have been very low since the final battle." Hermione succumbed to the yawn that had been threatening for the last two hours.

Snape reached for the parchment and gently tugged it from her grasp. Placing it back on the desk, he took her shoulders and steered her towards her bedroom. "Forget unicorns, Granger, it's time we were in bed," he said.

Hermione leaned back into the firm length of his body and sighed. "I thought you'd never ask."

With a start, he stepped back, blushing. "I didn't mean... I wasn't... Dammit, Hermione... Why are you laughing?"

"You're so easy to bait, Snape," she replied, using his own words against him as she entered her room. Blowing him a kiss, she closed the door on his scowl, only then allowing the assumed mirth to dissolve. Slumping against the door, Hermione bowed her head and wished away with all her might her fatigue-induced comment. Turning it into a joke had been her only defence from the scorn she had been sure would follow, but the fleeting glimpse of hurt in his eyes as she had closed the door lingered with her for hours until sleep finally claimed her.

Guilt cloaked Hermione's shoulders the next morning as she entered their shared living space. Prepared to apologise for her thoughtless words the previous evening, she found Snape seated at the dining table, enjoying his breakfast with little evidence of bruised feelings.

"Good morning, Granger." He barely looked up from his plate.

"Good morning, Severus." The use of his given name yielded a raised eyebrow. She stumbled on. "About last night. I'm sorry. I was very tired, and I didn't think. Please forgive me."

He waved away her apology. "Nothing to forgive. You don't like me, and I find you annoying. Nothing has changed. Now, eat your breakfast so we can go and visit your friend."

Hermione pushed her disappointment to one side as she filled her plate. "Shouldn't we obtain approval from McWhinney first before we approach Neville?"

"Probably, but I can't stand the overeager fool. Are you going to eat those eggs or just destroy them? I assure you they were brought by a house-elf. I have no intention of poisoning you... today."

Hermione ate her breakfast in silence, stealing glances at her partner's face between mouthfuls. The man who had become almost relaxed in her presence had been replaced by the old, inscrutable spy.

***

"Do you need me to do this, Granger?" Snape asked as they entered Neville Longbottom's greenhouse.

"No. I can do it. You'll probably scare poor Neville witless even while wearing that face."

Snape scowled. "I doubt it's possible for that young man to become any more witless."

Hermione spun on her heel and faced Snape. "Stop it! There's no need to keep up the greasy git act now. I know damn well you're a better man than that. Do you really have to try so hard to make people dislike you?"

"No, it comes naturally. And there's Longbottom, so get on with it."

Throwing him her 'I'll deal with you later' look, Hermione approached Neville. "Good morning, Nev..." Snape kicked her ankle. "Mr Longbottom. May we speak with you for a moment?"

Neville's warm smile was almost her undoing. "Certainly." He wiped his hands on a cloth tucked into his work robes and thrust one out.

"You obviously know who I am, but I don't believe I've had the pleasure."

"Farmer. Angela Farmer. And this is Soren Flynn. We work for the Department of Mysteries, and we have a vital project we need your help with."

"You're Unspeakables? Brilliant! I've always wanted to meet an Unspeakable. But what can I do for you?"

"First, swear a wand oath not to reveal anything we tell you."

Neville had his wand out without further question. After submitting to the oath, he listened as she explained the damage to the wards and its inevitable outcome.

"That's terrible, but how can I help?"

"By creating the most beautiful, pure gardens you've ever made in the affected areas to provide a focus of positive magical energy to offset the Dark Magic accumulated there. We've calculated the size of the gardens we'll need. Of course, the project will be funded by the Ministry."

"Is that all?" Neville beamed. "I can save the wizarding community from detection by Muggles simply by doing what I love? I don't believe it."

"Believe it or not, Longbottom; we don't need your faith, just your expertise." Snape cut Neville short, earning a glare from his partner.

Contrary to Hermione's expectation, Neville didn't miss a beat, ignoring Snape's comment as he fished in his apron for a quill and a piece of parchment on which to take notes. "Where would you like me to start?" he asked. "I have several plots of seedlings almost ready for planting out which I think could be suitable. Come this way, and I'll show you."

Within a short time, they had given Neville the locations and sizes required for the new gardens and discussed possible planting combinations. Snape's knowledge of Herbology should not have surprised Hermione, but his interest in the attributes of various flowers astounded her. Once he had forgotten his previous animosity to the young man, he strolled around the greenhouse pointing out specimens and viewing Neville's suggestions without so much as a pointed remark passing his lips.

Leaving Neville happily planning his gardens, Snape and Hermione Apparated back to Mute House.

"We should report our plans to McWhinney." Snape headed up the stairs, unaware his partner was not following until he turned at the top to find her still standing in the hall with arms folded and expression fierce. "What?"

"I'm just wondering what part of the word 'partnership' you don't understand, Snape." She frowned. "Is it the equality part, or is it the cooperation part?"

He stalked back down the stairs. "What exactly are you blathering on about?"

"Your inability to understand we are a team. You don't get to issue orders anymore, Professor."

"You don't think we should report in? Fine. I'd rather open a bottle of Firewhisky and get completely pissed than spend an hour listening to McWhinney prate on."

"No, you great pillock. I mean we should take a little time to write up our findings and plan of action so it can be presented properly. At the moment, we're still working off these scribbled notes and rough drawings." Hermione brandished her sheaf of parchment, which admittedly looked like a bludger had taken to it.

Snape sighed. "Still trying to prove you're the brightest witch of your age, aren't you, Granger? Well, I can put your overeager mind to rest. You are. You know it. I know it. Minerva knows it. Merlin, even Argus Filch was heard to say what a smart young woman you were once. Although he'd probably turn in his broom rather than admit it."

"I'm not trying to..." Hermione's mind suddenly took in the rest of his words. "Really? Mr Filch? You?"

"I may have been cynical and a little biased, but I wasn't stupid. You solved that damned logic puzzle of mine at eleven! That was supposed to keep out adult wizards."

"It didn't stop Quirrel."

"He had Voldemort riding around in his head; it was as unnatural as you were."

"Sweet words won't make me like you any better, Snape. I'm going back to our quarters to tidy up these notes. Come and get yourself completely pissed if you so desire or stay here and commune with the stonework until I'm finished. I don't really care either way."

***

In the end, they compromised. Snape helped her sort out the notes and present their findings to a suitably impressed McWhinney, and Hermione helped him finish the bottle of Old Ogden's to celebrate completing their first assignment.

"You know, you really have to shtop thinking you are th' leader in thish partnership. There'sh no I in partnership, you know." Hermione tipped the bottle upside-down in vain, but some greedy bastard had drunk all the Firewhisky.

"There issho. And you shaid 'you know' twice." Snape frowned at his empty glass and tossed it into the fireplace.

"Issho what?"

"Dunno." Snape, balance somewhat impaired, had developed a significant lean towards his partner's side of the couch. He turned to find her head under his nose and sniffed her hair.

"Mmm, delishous."

"Stop that! It'sh creepy!" She struggled to sit up but fell back against a lovely, muscular shoulder.

"No, ish nice." He stroked her hair and lifted up a curl. After a few minutes of serious contemplation, he made an announcement. "S'curly. Like pubic hair."

Hermione giggled. "I bet yoursh ish shtraight. Wouldn't dare to curl."

He frowned. "No... Don't think sho. Wait. I'll check." He fumbled with his trousers. "See. Curly, just like... Grangsher, why are you shtaring at me like that?"

Hermione lifted a finger to his mouth. It was intended to reach his nose, but after half a bottle of Firewhisky her aim was a little off. In his attempt to prove his assertion, Snape had confirmed another oft-debated theory. Nose size mattered.

A lot.

***

Hermione woke to the pounding on the door.

"Whassat?" She tried to sit up, only to find herself entangled in a pair of long, naked arms and two equally naked legs. It only took a moment of head-splitting concentration to realise she was in a similar state and the pounding came from inside her head.

Groaning, she turned her head to find her partner awake and far more alert than she felt.

"Fuck. We didn't?" Hermione felt stickiness where it had no right to be. "Fuck, we did. What was I thinking?"

"You weren't. Neither was I. We were intoxicated." Roughened by alcohol and sleep, his voice had never sounded sexier.

"I thought men couldn't do the deed when they were drunk." Hermione noticed neither of them had moved, but decided not to mention it.

"Wizards are not ordinary men, Granger." One of his hands had drifted down her back and was gently caressing her bum while the other teased the side of one breast.

"No need to sound so proud of yourself." She squirmed as a distinct pressure jabbed perilously close to where she'd suddenly decided it needed to be. A not so subtle shift of her pelvis brought an evil smirk to Snape's face.

"Still not thinking, Granger? I thought you didn't like me?" His hips rocked back and forth a fraction, just enough to torment.

"I don't. You're arrogant, domineering, and sarcastic. You like to think you're in charge, and your idea of tidiness leaves a lot to be desired. And if you don't put that where it belongs this minute I'll... I'll..."

"You'll what?" Another rock. A mere half inch separated them.

She could feel the heat of him, poised, twitching, eager to comply with her wishes, too close, yet too far away. "Severus! Fuck me now, and we'll sort out how stupid we were later, dammit!"

"As you wish."

And even in the cold light of day with heads pounding from the after effects of the night before it was noisy and sweaty and slippery and fantastic.

"Hangover Potion?" He stood there, naked and unashamed, holding out a vial.

"Please." Swallowing the bitter liquid, Hermione ran her reddened eyes over the man before her, lingering on the tangle of curls at his groin and his still semi-erect penis. "I suppose there are some parts of you that pass muster. Doesn't mean I like you."

His bark of laughter surprised her. "No, I don't suppose it does. I can live with that."

As his head lowered to claim her lips, Hermione decided that, for the moment, she could too.

***

Mission complete.

A/N: This was written for silverdoe for the 2011 SSHG Exchange on Livejournal. Karelia kindly did the beta work; she's a real gem!