Part II

Author’s Note: My gentle readers might notice a trend with my last two stories. They do portray Hermione in situations where she‘s not quite near Mrs Stewart’s standards in her housekeeping. In no way do I intend to besmirch one of our favourite heroines. The underlying theme here is rather my own ineptitude with household chores. Presented with the choice of Christmas cleaning vs finishing a story, my priorities are quite clear.

He rang the doorbell a third time.

Hermione Granger opened the door in jeans and a T-shirt, hair tied back with a shawl. “Severus! What a nice surprise! Do come in.”

Reflexively, Severus sneered – ‘nice surprise’, pah – but swallowed an uncharitable answer, remembering the reason for this visit.

She turned around, leaving the door open, and thus gave him no chance to state and conclude his business on the door-step.

The flat was in a state of disarray. It seemed his colleague was in the process of doing some serious Christmas-cleaning and doing it the Muggle way, no less. Granger had turned down the volume on her record player, and now her voice came from a room on the left, the kitchen presumably. “I was about to have a cup of tea. Is Earl Grey all right with you?”

He resigned himself to having tea before handing back the book. “Yes, thank you.”

“Make yourself comfortable. I‘ll be right back.”

Books were stacked on the chairs, and the spread of the settee was covered in cat-hair. Severus remained standing and walked over to Granger‘s stereo system. The pieces were old but of good quality, and her record collection was impressive. Leafing through it, he found many of his own favourites – Them, The Animals, Rory Gallagher.

He didn’t hear her until she addressed him. “My father is a bit of a high-end nerd and justified buying a-state-of-the-art B&O sound system with my need of having my own. Not that I complained.”

Not waiting for an answer, she had turned back to the settee and was now staring at the spread covering it. She seemed to have reached a decision and pulled it off with a flourish. “Sorry. I realise you couldn’t sit down here with black trousers. I kept it – complete with Kneazle hair – as a memory of Crookshanks.“

Severus vaguely remembered that her familiar had passed away at the end of the Summer term. He sat down on one end of the couch and said, “Rosmerta mentioned last week that her cat has kittens she suspects are part Kneazle. I am sure she would part with one if you are ready.“

Granger looked at him with suspiciously shiny eyes. Snape hoped to be spared tears and tried to change the topic. “As to the reason for my visit—”

“Milk?”

“Yes, please. Miss Granger, I appreciate your gift, but I must return it. This treatise is far too expensive a present for a mere colleague.”

“I know it is quite rare. I’ve read it cursorily, and most parts go over my head. I gave it to you because I believe it belongs in the hands of a Potions master. I am enough of a bibliophile to wish a book to be with someone who appreciates it thoroughly.”

“Be that as it may, if you sell the book, you‘ll make more than a month’s salary.”

She cradled her tea cup and had faraway look. After a while she made up her mind. “Do you know about my parents?”

“Minerva only said that they were in Australia when the war came to a head.”

“They still are. In the summer before Voldemort fell, I changed their memories, erased all knowledge they had of me and planted a false wish emigrate to Australia. It was the only way I could think of to make them leave the country and be safe.”

That was impressive, even for Granger’s standards.

“How long did their memories stay modified?”

“Nearly eleven months.”

He winced.

“Exactly. I managed to return their memories, but their emotions were affected. And of course, they were offended by my highhandedness in making a decision without consulting them.”

“They were prime targets. Voldemort even let us search for them in France and the US when he couldn’t locate them in Britain.”

“I know. I’ve read the transcript of Draco’s trial. Still, I might have tried to persuade them, not force them. They couldn’t have held me back as I was of age in both worlds. I should have made more of an effort to make them understand the danger without resorting to magic.”

“You had to make a difficult decision; you were very young then, and time was of the essence. In hindsight there might have been a better solution than the one you found, but then…” He trailed off. Granger was no gossip, and she deserved honesty. “I know a lot about wrong decisions and regret. Try to put it behind you and make do with what you have.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your honesty. Most of the time, I do realise that my parents and I have come out of the war relatively unscathed. And other Muggleborns tell me that relationships between them and their parents rarely ever stay close when they decide to live fully in the Wizarding World. Which brings me back to the book. Do you intend to sell it?”

“Of course not.”

“Then please keep it. On my bookshelf, it would be a constant reminder of past mistakes; on yours, it will do something good. I was walking through a rainy Sydney after a particularly bitter fight with my parents. I was feeling nearly as low as at that time when I was carrying the Horcrux. The bookshop I hadn’t noticed before was like a sanctuary, and when I found the tome and realised how crucial it could be for your research, that somehow was a turning point for me. My parents were alive and well, and even if I hurt, I had found the book. I am not making a lot of sense, am I?”

Severus pondered on the wisdom of answering truthfully. He did understand her. And he wanted that particular book. “All right, I will accept your gift. Thank you.”

“I am glad. It would have been a shame if you didn’t, even more so as it was a Muggle shop, and I paid merely fifteen Australian dollars for it.”

“Will you at least let me help you? I could dust your records for you; that is something I always do by hand as house elves are not suited to do it properly.“

She was smiling now.

“Feel free to dust and browse to your heart’s content.”

The afternoon progressed satisfactorily for both of them. Hermione saw her flat becoming tidy, and Severus happily perused one of the most interesting record collections he had ever come across. As the evening drew nearer, the Charms instructor phoned for take-away curry and hopped into the shower, leaving her colleague to decant the wine and select the music for dinner.

Over their food, they discussed music, with Severus revealing one of his happiest childhood memories: sitting on his father’s shoulders during an early performance of the later Animals outside a neighbourhood pub.

The summer saw Hermione at Spinner’s End, listening to Severus’ records. By the time the next term came around, they had managed to combine the mechanics of an old gramophone with one of their record players, and the Charms mistress had invented – and patented – a charm to make Muggle listening devices work in magically charged environments.

Two years later, in the middle of June, the select guests at the reception were a tad surprised by the music the new Mr and Mrs Snape had chosen for their first dance as a married couple: Ray Charles’ rendition of “Hallelujah, I just love her so”.

The End