A Single Friend

A/N: Sorry for the late update, I was out having cocktails so please forgive me. As a reward - two chapters are here at once! Yay! Thanks for reading, everyone x

A single rose can be my garden... a single friend, my world. ~Leo Buscaglia

Hermione closed the door to her quarters and sighed. In between their transformations and waiting to return to their own forms, something had happened and Professor Snape's mood had changed from being amusing and affable to miserable and grumpy. She had offered him the chance to browse her books to pass the time, but he had refused none too politely. She had then tried to engage him in conversation about the most recent articles in Ars Alchemica, but he had been dismissive and refused to be drawn. His face – well, her face – looked downright miserable. They had spent an uncomfortably quiet half an hour, and then he had departed as swiftly as he could once he was back to himself. He didn't even wait for her to give him his hidden bottle of Firewhiskey, and Hermione was left wondering what on earth she had done wrong. She couldn't deny the overwhelming sense of disappointment, and she wondered where this would leave them in terms of future trials. Perhaps she would have to look for another guinea pig after all, and she immediately thought of Harry. After all, the project had been his idea too, and she was doing this as much for him as for her Mastery. But Ginny was pregnant with their first, due within the month, and she couldn't rely on Harry being available when she needed him. It was a sad fact that she needed someone with no outside distractions, much like herself. She sighed again and gave herself a mental shake. She wasn't going down that train of thought tonight. The last hour with Professor Snape had been exhausting, and she still had the rest of her notes to write up before she went to bed. She steeled herself and pick up her quill again.

***

Severus Snape stormed into his rooms and through to his bed chamber, threw off his teaching robes and started to unbutton his coat roughly. At the sudden appearance of Winky the house elf, he let out a low growl from the back of his throat and glared, making the elf shake and her ears tremble. Her eyes widened in sudden fear, and she grabbed his robes quickly and vanished without saying a word. Severus stared angrily at the empty space that once held the elf, and let out a shuddering moan. He sat down with a resigned flump on the edge of the bed, and held his head in his hands. It wasn't the elf's fault he was in such bad temper. It wasn't even Granger's, although he was well aware that he had taken it out on her.

'Damn it all,' he muttered. He let out a long breath and continued to undress, slower this time, his fingers deftly unbuttoning his cuffs and slipping his coat off his arms. Toeing off his boots, he padded in his sock soles back into his living room, opened the now not-so-secret cupboard beside his fireplace and poured himself a large glass of Ogden's. He didn't light the fire, but stood, staring into the empty hearth as he replayed his recent behaviour towards Granger. He closed his eyes in shame. The witch had been surprisingly good company, witty and bright, and she had done her best to make the experience a pleasant one. But he was too far into his own self-pity to respond any way appropriately.

He walked to the wall and removed the curtain that covered an unnecessary mirror. He looked closely at the dark shadows beneath his eyes, his pasty skin. He ran a hand through his hair and could feel the build up of grease. He showered daily, but it seemed to make no difference and there was little else he could do with it, other than to give himself a short back and sides. The very thought of it brought back unpleasant memories of his father, who had taken great pleasure in berating his only son about his hair at every opportunity. He looked away from the mirror in disgust and downed his whisky in one long slug before heading to refill his glass. He paused after lifting the bottle, wondering if he should add 'practising alcoholic' to the list of his negative traits, and replaced the bottle slowly without adding a drop to his glass after all. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His father had taken that route, frustrated by unemployment and disappointment in his family. Severus had almost followed in his father's inebriated footsteps, but then he supposed that being manipulated by two masters and having absolutely no-one to turn to would do that to a wizard.

Most of his problems had ended once Voldemort had been finished off, and he had slowly come to notice his distinct lack of friends. The war had afforded him scant opportunities for social interaction, and his years at Hogwarts had robbed him of his only childhood friend. He had known, deep down, that he had lost Lily as soon as she met James Potter, but to lose the potential of her love was less painful than losing her friendship. He had even been lonely within his own house, his half-blood status setting him aside for the patronising acquaintance of the Purebloods in his house whenever they were feeling gracious. Lucius Malfoy had left the country with his family in tow, and for all Severus knew he had changed his name and reinvented himself. He couldn't blame him. Any true friendship they had shared had been forever tainted by the Dark Mark, and had faded along with the tattoo they both wore. Severus had thrown himself, body and soul, into the destruction of the Dark Lord and all that he had stood for, not knowing it would take years and leave him fighting to prove his loyalty to the Light after all of his blood, sweat and bitter, stinging tears.

With sudden clarity of thought, he knew without a doubt that he had no wish for his remaining years to be friendless. He grabbed a sheet of parchment and a quill, and then called for his owl.

***

Hermione was just climbing into bed when the small screech owl barrelled through her Floo and then tumbled and fell, flapping, at her feet. She couldn't help but laugh at the disgruntled, almost boss-eyed look the owl gave her, and she lifted it carefully to remove the rolled parchment. She had no owl treats in her bed chamber, so she carried the owl through to her office, where she had a secret stash of Muggle chocolate. She broke off two squares, and gave one to the bird, who hooted warmly and shook his feathers back into place. Hermione smiled and scratched his head, laughing as he closed his eyes in evident pleasure. Then she unrolled the scroll, revealing Professor Snape's usually elegant writing scrawled hastily across the page.

'Granger,

Severus Snape'

Hermione smiled. He hadn't said sorry, but she could read between the lines well enough. He still wanted to help her, and actually seemed eager to do so. Perhaps she hadn't done anything wrong after all?

She lifted a quill and wrote a short reply on the bottom of his letter, tied it back onto the leg of the owl and opened the door of her office into the dungeon corridors. She didn't approve of sending them through the Floo network just in case there was an accident. The little owl flew away swiftly, and Hermione popped the spare square of chocolate into her mouth and headed back to bed.

***

At breakfast the next day, Severus lingered over his toast and black coffee. He told himself he was relaxing on his weekend off, and he made a show of slowly reading that days Prophet to explain his extended presence. His reluctance to leave finally arrived in a hurry through the staff door to the main hall, and it was clear from the unkempt state of her hair that Granger had overslept and almost missed breakfast again. He waved his hand over the place setting beside him, and as the witch slid into her seat, a large mug of tea and a bacon sandwich with ketchup appeared before her.

'How on earth did you know?' she said, unable to keep the grateful tone from her voice.

'Severus Snape. Master Spy,' he murmured, leaning slightly so that only she could hear. 'There is a clue in the title.'

He couldn't help but smirk as Granger caught his eye and giggled. He was doubly gratified when she took a bite of sandwich and sighed with pleasure. He found himself staring at her as she ate, and quickly folded the Prophet and stood to leave before he drew attention to his own desperate need for her company.

'Professor Snape,' she said, raising her voice as he stepped down from the Dias. He turned and looked at her, and she smiled at him, a twinkle in her eye. 'Don't forget, dungeons at seven.' She mimicked his arched eyebrow, and he rolled his eyes at her.

'Detention, I know,' he muttered, recalling her scrawled reply to his note the previous night. 'Five points from Gryffindor for being a cheeky witch.'

The sound of her laughter as he left the hall almost put a spring in his step.

***

For Hermione, the rest of Saturday seemed to drag. She spent the morning tidying up her rooms a little, and then in the Forbidden Forest to collect some fresh pine needles for the trial. The afternoon she spent reading, and then writing to Harry and Ginny. She also dropped a note to Ron, but she didn't expect to hear back from him at all. There relationship was cool at best, but Hermione still hoped that he would get over her enough for them to find their way back to a friendship at some point. It seemed like it had taken twice as long for seven o'clock to come around, and it was only when Professor Snape finally knocked on her door that she realised just how much she had been looking forward to spending time in his company. She pulled the door open quickly and smiled as he walked straight past her without waiting for an invitation. It was becoming a habit, it seemed.

'Shall we get started?' She handed him a flask of Polyjuice potion, and grinned at the moue of distaste he gave as he swirled the sludge around lightly.

'I live for nothing else,' he murmured, but he followed her into her quarters nevertheless.