It's The Little Things That Matter

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! With the usual disclaimer in place, I hope whitesilence and June_W enjoy this chapter, as there is a little piece in here for each of them. And inna_chy, I hope you get everything you want out of this one! ~The Mistress

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CHAPTER 2: It’s The Little Things That Matter

Severus had no idea how the second bedroom of her flat had come to be painted in the brightest hue of yellow he had ever seen. The sight of it made him sick. It was not because he hated any shade other than black, for he loved the soft chestnut brown of her hair and the pale cinnamon hue of her blank eyes. The room was just too damn bright! A quick flick of his wand solved the matter, changing the theme of the room from damnable bright yellow to a more subdued forest green.

He had arranged the things he felt necessary to have at hand in the room the day after Hermione had asked him to stay. The rest was stored at his family home near Birmingham, those possessions just a Floo call away. He slept with the bedroom door open, in case Hermione should need him sometime in the night. They had been this way for a week now, and Severus was beginning to enjoy the domesticity of it all.

Hermione still woke up at seven, but there was no breakfast waiting for her when she arrived in the kitchen after her shower. She had asked him to wait and to let her help him cook. Their breakfasts were simple, usually consisting of toast, eggs, and tea, but it was enough for him that she wanted to try. She helped him clean up before he would start with her lessons. He had made good on his promise and had spent three whole days transfiguring her books to be written in Braille. They spent several hours each morning on the sofa, a beginner’s book of the Braille alphabet open on the coffee table before them. Severus was a patient teacher, allowing her to take her time when learning the feel of the letters with her fingertips, but he also encouraged her to challenge herself.

He usually stopped their lessons at eleven o’clock and praised Hermione at her hard work. “You are doing wonderful,” he would say, kissing her affectionately on the forehead. “It will take time, but you will be devouring those books again, Hermione.” Severus would allow her to recline against him, his arm around her and the weight of his palm on her belly, as he read to her. It was a worn volume, its covers soft and frayed around the edges. It looked as if she had owned it for a very long time and read it many times before the curse.

Severus cleared his throat and propped his feet up on the coffee table. Hermione sighed and snuggled closer to him. “The Princess Bride by William Goldman,” he began, turning the worn pages with care. He would read to her for an hour before Potter and Weasley would arrive at noon with lunch. They did not like that fact that he was the one who looked after her, but they refused to do anything to upset Hermione. Even though she had changed perceptibly since Snape let his presence slip, she was still fragile in many respects. They were civil, although Harry had to stop Ron from hexing the older man on a few occasions. Harry would hand him a boxed lunch when Severus opened the door to them and then watch him disappear into the kitchen to eat alone. It was as if Snape realized the two boys needed their time alone with Hermione.

The boys would leave around two, and Severus would emerge from the kitchen to find Hermione. She seemed to always find her way to the window that opened out over the street. After three days of watching her do this consistently, Severus went over to join her.

“How long has it been, Severus?” she asked that fourth day. “How long has it been since I’ve been out there?”

He brushed one of her short curls behind her ear and caught her hand in his own. “Far too long, love.”

Later on, he couldn’t have said when the decision was made, but after that day, he took her on a walk every afternoon after lunch. They would walk down the street a few blocks from her flat through the market district. Hermione’s head would turn this way and that so fast that Severus thought she would get whiplash as she took in the new smells and sensations. Each day they would go a little further, and they began to turn their walks into daily trips to the market for groceries.

Hermione would nap on the sofa while Severus made dinner. He liked being able to watch her sleep through the open kitchen door as he cooked. Little by little, day-by-day, more of the strong, passionate young woman he had once known was reappearing. Severus would wake her for dinner and let her help him clean up afterwards. He would sit with her by the open window and listen to the wireless with her as she started to drift off to sleep for the night. Sometimes he could wake her enough to guide her to her bedroom. Sometimes he would carry her to bed and give her a gentle kiss before retreating to his own room.

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“It’s beautiful out tonight, Hermione,” Severus whispered quietly. They sat at the open window together, Hermione reclining against him with her head against his shoulder and his arms wrapped around her. He would describe the night sky to her, telling her all the constellations he could see and the way the moon was shining. She would listen, letting the warmth of his velvet voice wrap her in comfort. She felt safe with him.

Tinkle… tinkle… tinkle. Hermione’s brows knitted together at the sound that was coming closer. She disentangled herself from Severus and began feeling toward the sound that was circling her ankles. Warm, soft fur tickled her skin as she hefted Crookshanks into her arms.

“What’s this?” Hermione asked as she felt a soft ribbon around the kneazle’s neck.

Severus smiled and pulled her back to him as the animal purred happily in her lap. “It is a bell, Hermione. If you won’t get rid of the damned thing, at least you can be warned as to where it is.”

Her head turned just as he bent to kiss the top of her head. His lips pressed against hers, feeling their softness and tasting their sweetness amid his whirling thoughts of surprise. He pulled away abruptly and kissed her temple before wrapping his arms around her once more.

“Where did you learn to read Braille, Severus?” she asked quietly. It was as if she was oblivious to the fact she had just been kissed by Severus Snape.

“From my mother, Eleanor. An infection she contracted when she was a young woman caused her to go blind. She taught my brother and myself to read Braille as we grew up.” He spoke with a tone of finality, as if to say that the subject was closed.

Hermione smiled and rested her hand atop his own. “Thank you for telling me, Severus.”

He kissed the top of her head and felt her snuggle against his warmth. “As you wish, Hermione.”

She sighed and stretched her legs as Crookshanks jumped down. “As you wish, Severus.”