The Road to Hell (Part Two)

Disclaimer: All characters depicted belong to JK Rowling. No infringement of copyright intended; no money has been made.

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A/N: Huge thanks and a bottle of Old Ogden's to Wickedlywanton for her help and encouragement. This chapter is dedicated to her.

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Severus stared gloomily at the stranger before him.

'Welcome back, you old bugger,' said the mirror. 'It's good to see you again.'

Severus did not share its sentiments. Dressed in his full teaching robes, Severus was having a hard time reconciling the serene image in front of him with the growing sense of panic he was experiencing. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long breath. Gods, he was dreading this evening. How would the children react to him, particularly his Slytherins? How on earth was he was supposed to command their respect? He turned his head to see Hermione walk out of his bathroom wearing only a towel and promptly forgot all about the Welcoming Feast.

'Gods, you look hot,' she said, gazing at him.

Severus did a twirl, smirking at the comforting swish of his robes. The heavy material undoubtedly gave him substance and the appearance of confidence. He still looked like his old menacing self, at any rate.

'Well, Miss Granger,' Severus said silkily, 'are you going to stand there gawking all evening, or do you intend getting dressed?'

Hermione laughed. The bat is back. Only this time, he's my bat. She dropped her towel and walked slowly towards him.

'Hermione...' he warned.

'Hush. I've always wanted to do this.' Hermione put her arms around his neck and pressed her body against the rough wool of his robes, sighing contentedly. She released him abruptly, turning to get dressed, only to find herself lifted off her feet and flung unceremoniously on the bed.

Severus looked down at a naked, and rather damp Hermione, sprawled over the quilt and had a fleeting vision of her tied to the bedposts. He fell on top of her and kissed her hungrily.

Hermione squealed, trying to push him off. 'Severus, we'll be late for the Sorting.'

'Bugger the Sorting.'

Hermione giggled helplessly.

At the sound of her laughter, Severus came to his senses and scrambled off the bed. What on earth was he thinking? He was behaving like an animal.

'You are right,' he said gruffly. 'We are going to be late.' He straightened his robes and smoothed his hair. 'I will see you in the Great Hall. It would be better if we arrived separately.'

Hermione stared after Severus' back as he swooped out of the room, then sighed as she got off the bed and gathered her clothes. What was all that about? Hermione had no cause to complain about Severus' skills as a lover: he was gentle, tender, considerate – and yet...

It's like he has to ask permission.

It was a far cry from the days of his 'inspections'. Hermione smiled, remembering. And where had that demon gone; the one who had just... taken her that time in the library? Something had been unleashed that night; something raw, animalistic even, but although Severus' passion had been overwhelming in its intensity, Hermione had revelled in the knowledge that she had been the one to bring on that loss of control. Tonight, for the first time since then, she thought she had seen that same gleam in Severus' eye for a fleeting moment, but it had vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.

Hermione sighed again, hurriedly pulling on her robe. Despite her assurances, she was afraid Severus was still ashamed of his behaviour that night. What was it going to take to convince him that she wouldn't be offended if he just... let go?

Hermione was still pondering the question as she rushed to the Great Hall.

Should I confront him? she thought, taking her seat next to Harry at the end of the Gryffindor table. Would he be upset? Would he think I was criticising him?

Looking along the High Table, Hermione decided to let it lie – at least for the time being; he had enough on his plate at the moment without her nagging him. She caught Severus' eye and gave him a small smile. He acknowledged her with a slight incline of his head just as the doors opened and Professor Flitwick led in the first-years for the Sorting.

* * *

Later in the evening, after a boisterous and sumptuous Feast, Hermione accompanied Ginny and Harry back to Gryffindor Tower. The three friends were mostly silent as they trudged up the stairs. Ron's absence was weighing heavily on them, although no one said anything – there was no need; they each knew what the other two were thinking. Hermione said her goodnights, then sat in the window seat of her room for a while, reliving her first sighting of Hogwarts: the boats, Hagrid. She shivered and rubbed her arms while gazing at the moon's reflection on the surface of the lake. So much had happened since then. So many memories, both good and bad.

She sighed then smiled, thinking about the Welcoming Feast as she got up and walked over to the hearth. Severus should have returned from the Slytherin common room by now.

He must be so pleased, Hermione thought, stepping into the fireplace.

'I'm back, Sev–' her smile disappeared at the sight of a dishevelled Severus slumped in his chair, head in one hand and a tumbler of firewhisky in the other. His teaching robes lay discarded in a crumpled heap at his side.

'Whatever is the matter?'

Severus did not look up so Hermione knelt beside him and pushed the hair back from his face.

'Severus?'

'I was not... I did not expect...'

'To be cheered by the entire school?' Hermione volunteered.

'Yes,' he replied.

'Would you have preferred it if they had booed and thrown things at you?'

Severus huffed. At least he would have understood such a reaction. 'They treated me like a hero, Hermione.'

'But you are–'

'I am NOT... I killed the headmaster of this school, for God's sake! Has everyone conveniently forgotten that?'

Hermione sighed. 'They understand what you had to do–'

'No, they do not,' Severus said quietly. 'No one does. I do not see how I can teach–'

'Nonsense.'

'Is it? One of my first year Slytherins asked if I would kiss her goodnight. Me! Can you believe it? Never in all my years...' he trailed off and took a gulp of whisky.

Hermione couldn't help but smile. 'So, you're afraid they won't cower in your presence anymore or call you the Bat of the Dungeons?'

He snorted. 'I blame that Skeeter woman. All that bloody rubbish she wrote about me in the paper... Deserves a medal, my arse. How am I supposed to control a class if they no longer fear me? Tell me that!'

'Well, she was right about that,' Hermione replied, taking the glass out of his hand and climbing into his lap. 'Everyone else is going to get one – and as for the other thing, well, we'll soon find out. You can practice on me if you like.'

'Hmm?' he muttered, absentmindedly playing with her hair.

'Fifty points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for making inappropriate advances to a professor.'

'What advances?'

'These...'

'Oh, those...'

* * *

It was an uncharacteristically nervous Severus that stood poised at the door to the Potions classroom the next morning, steeling himself to make his customary dramatic entrance.

Second year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, he reminded himself. Easy. Get a grip, man.

Severus took a deep breath and pushed the door with all his might. It slammed behind him most satisfactorily. He marched to the front of the classroom, neither looking left nor right, waved his hand at the board, then paused before spinning on his heel.

'Turn to page–'

He stopped, staring at the scene in front of him. The class was on its feet, all eyes staring back at him expectantly. Severus looked around the room suspiciously.

'Sit.'

There was a lot of scuffling and scraping of chairs on the flagstones, and then silence. It was really rather eerie. While everyone opened their textbooks, Severus surreptitiously examined his desk and chair for any jinxes, or anything the Weasley twins might have dreamed up, but he could not detect anything untoward.

Throughout the lesson no one said a word; everyone followed his instructions to the letter, and not a single cauldron exploded. Every potion turned out perfectly. Severus had never experienced such a success rate in all his years of teaching. At the end of the day, after each of his classes had followed the same pattern, he returned to his chambers a nervous wreck. He had absolutely no idea what was going on, but he intended to find out.

'What the hell is going on?' he asked a bemused Hermione.

'Nothing,' she replied.

'But... They're listening to me. I mean, without me having to threaten them.'

'It's called respect, Severus.' She put her arms around him when he looked at her incredulously. 'Anyway,' she smiled, 'you should be so worried. I overheard a couple of sixth-year Hufflepuffs discussing your, erm... attributes.'

'What?'

'The girls.' She smiled up at him. 'I'm going to have to beat them off with a big stick, it seems.'

'How fortunate I have you to defend my honour,' he purred. 'Jealous?'

'No, not really.' Hermione grinned. 'It just confirms what an excellent taste in men I have.'

While Hermione tried to make light of the situation, Severus found the change in people's attitude towards him difficult to stomach. Animosity, contempt, resentment – all of these things he could have coped with; he already had the defence mechanisms in place to deal with those. Respect, gratitude and admiration bordering on hero-worship simply aggravated him. Having his life exposed for the entire world to scrutinise, and a hatred of teaching, did nothing to improve his frame of mind, either.

Severus managed to disguise his feelings during the day – being a spy for so many years had its uses – but in the evening, when the mask slipped, it was Hermione who had to deal with his bouts of bad temper and general grumpiness. She couldn't really understand why he was making such a fuss, though. The war was over. He didn't have to pretend anymore; he was free to be himself. Why couldn't he just snap out of it?

Hermione had to bite her tongue and use every last ounce of her patience to try and convince Severus that he didn't have to revert to type. But, being the sort of person who stuck her chin out at adversity and just got on with things, there was only so much of his brooding she was prepared to suffer in silence.

'Haven't you noticed how proud your Slytherins are of you, Severus?' Hermione asked one evening in exasperation. 'Can't you see how important a role model you are to them, particularly to those whose parents supported Voldemort?'

Severus grunted in reply and stuck his nose in a book to indicate he did not want to pursue the subject. People were being nice to him, for gods' sake; people who would not have given him the time of day few years ago. He saw no earthly reason to be nice back and was quite happy to let them believe he was still the same surly, sarcastic bastard he had always been.

Hermione was not deterred. She wormed her way into his lap, trying to snatch the book out of his hands.

'I am not in the mood for games, Hermione,' Severus said, holding the book out of her reach.

'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I realise it must be hard for you, having to live with such an imbecile.'

'Pardon?'

'Well, I'm such a poor judge of character, for a start. Here I am thinking I was in love with a strong, brave, powerful wizard, but it turns out he's really just some cold, uncaring, nasty, cynical old git. It just illustrates what a feeble mind I must have.'

Severus looked at her blankly, or so he thought, but Hermione was starting to learn how to read him. She noticed the slight softening of his eyes and the little line at the corner of his mouth which indicated he was trying not to smile.

'Smile,' she said, 'or I'll tickle you.'

'You wouldn't dare,' he said, smirking in spite of himself.

Happy that she had broken his mood for this evening at least, Hermione put her head on his shoulder and relaxed. It had been a long day.

'Just... be there for me, Hermione,' Severus said quietly.

'Always,' she replied mid-yawn.

Smiling, Severus stuck his nose in her hair and kissed the top of her head. As long as he had her; as long as he had this then everything would be all right. The rest of the world could go to hell.

'I love you,' he said almost inaudibly.

His only answer was a soft snore.

* * *

Realising she couldn't force Severus out of his gloom, Hermione left him to come around in his own good time. She had more than enough to keep herself occupied as it was with the study schedule she had set herself. Hermione's thirst for knowledge had not abated, and she resumed her studies gratefully and with enthusiasm, trying to make up for lost time even though she was already streets ahead in most of her subjects.

Towards the end of September, Minerva called Hermione into her office.

'You wanted to see me, Minerva?' she asked.

'Yes, my dear, I have a proposition for you,' Minerva replied. 'Do sit down.'

Hermione sat in the chair on the other side of the desk and looked at the Headmistress expectantly.

'I've been thinking – and I've taken advice from some of your other teachers,' Minerva began, 'how would you feel about taking some of your NEWTs early – in the November resits?'

Clearly shocked, Hermione stammered, 'I-I don't know. I've never even thought about it. Do you think I'm ready?'

'No,' Minerva admitted, 'but it wouldn't take that much extra work on your part, and we would give you all the help we can.'

Hermione thought about it. There was no real reason to rush into the exams, but it would look good on her CV. And, if she got a few subjects out of the way, it would mean more free time in the evening – time she could spend with Severus.

'How many subjects do you think I should sit?' she asked cautiously.

'Well, obviously, that's up to you,' Minerva replied. 'But you would sail through Charms...'

Hermione nodded. Charms was her least challenging subject.

'... and you have an aptitude for Arithmancy. Ancient Runes is another possibility, and as for Defence Against the Dark Arts – well,' Minerva smiled wryly, 'I'm sure you and Mr Potter would get an 'O' each just for turning up!'

Hermione laughed. 'What about Transfiguration?'

Minerva played with the quill in front of her. 'Don't take this the wrong way, Hermione,' she said. 'I think you would pass, but if you want a higher grade, I suggest you leave it – as well as Potions and Herbology, naturally, until the end of the year.'

Hermione bit her lip as she considered the matter. 'Have you discussed this with Severus?'

'No.' Minerva shook her head. 'As I did not consider Potions to be an option, there was no need.'

'Very well,' Hermione said, making her mind up, 'I'll do it. I'll do as you suggest.'

'Excellent!' said Minerva. 'I shall inform Professor Flitwick and the others of your decision.'

* * *

Hermione had to wait until the evening before she had a chance to tell Severus her news. She found him in the Potions lab, bottling supplies for Madam Pomfrey. He turned as the door opened and gave her a small smile.

'Come to help?' he asked.

Hermione walked over to him and gave him a quick hug.

'What can I do?'

Severus pointed to a large batch of Pepperup Potion. With winter on the way, it would soon be in much in demand. Hermione rolled her sleeves up and began the laborious process of putting the individual doses into phials.

'Minerva called me in today.'

'Oh?'

'I'm going to sit some of my NEWTs in November.'

Severus was silent for a moment. 'Which ones?'

Hermione told him.

'No doubt you will excel, Hermione,' Severus said, 'but did Minerva say why she wanted you to do it?'

Hermione mulled it over. 'No, other than she thought I would be ready with a little extra coaching. You don't think she has some ulterior motive, do you?' Hermione laughed.

'As a Gryffindor, I would consider that unlikely.' He smirked, and Hermione laughed again. 'But, no doubt she is aware of the fact that your academic achievements will reflect well on the school.'

Hermione hadn't considered that possibility. She sighed. 'Why do you always look for the catch?'

Severus didn't reply. Instead, he indicated a pile of parchment on the end of the worktable. Hermione stopped what she was doing.

'What have you got there?'

He sighed, passing them to her. 'Read them.'

Wiping her hands, Hermione picked up the first letter. '"Dear Professor Snape..." da-de-da ... Witch Weekly?' She looked up in surprise.

Severus nodded. 'Carry on.'

Hermione returned to the letter and continued, '"...we would like to offer you a weekly column... testing and recommending the latest beauty potions–"' Hermione covered her mouth to smother her laughter.

'Read the others.'

Hermione glanced through the other letters. There were some trivial offers, but in the main, they contained invitations to review articles in some of the more serious, and influential, Potions periodicals.

'But, Severus,' Hermione said, 'this is right up your street. And they're offering you twenty Galleons per review. That's not to be sniffed at.'

'It's not the money, Hermione,' Severus said wearily, sitting down on a stool. 'Don't you see, I haven't changed. I am still the same competent brewer I have always been, but no one appreciated me... before.' He grabbed a handful of the letters. 'This has nothing to do with skill, and all to do with celebrity. I want no part of it.' He threw them down again, put his elbows on the desk and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. 'What do you think these people want; I mean, really want from me?'

'That's obvious,' Hermione replied. 'Your name in their publications will increase their circulation. Take the money, Severus, that's my advice to you. Grab it with both hands before they change their minds.'

'I had no idea you had such a mercenary streak in you, Miss Granger.' He smirked. 'But you see my point. People rarely act out of generosity of spirit. I am unable to blindly trust their motives as you are prone to do.'

'I see.' Hermione moved behind him and began massaging his shoulders. Severus groaned as his muscles started to relax under Hermione's capable fingers.

'That feels good.'

Hermione stopped abruptly. 'That'll be ten Galleons, please.'

'What?'

'Well, you expect people to act in their own interests, so I'm charging.'

Severus chuckled and swivelled around to face her. 'You will be the death of me, witch.'

Hermione smiled in turn. 'Seriously, though, not everyone is out to get a piece of you, my love. Can't you just accept some things at face value?'

Severus looked away. 'I was taught at an early age not to,' he replied quietly.

Hermione raised her eyebrows but said nothing, waiting for him to explain further.

'When I was a child,' he began hesitantly, 'there used to be this snow globe on the mantelpiece at home – you know, the thing you shake and it looks like a blizzard inside?'

'Yes, of course,' said Hermione. 'I used to have one, too.'

'It was quite old,' Severus continued, 'Victorian, probably. My mother had had it since she was a girl.' He sighed at the memory. 'It used to fascinate me. I would stare at it for hours on end – the little houses inside that resembled some... village of indeterminate Middle European origin, and... make up stories about them.'

'Go on,' Hermione encouraged.

'I would–' he paused. 'Oh, this is stupid.'

'No, it isn't,' Hermione said. 'It's fascinating. What stories?'

Time seemed to stand still for Hermione as Severus began to tell her about the miniature village and its inhabitants, protected from the outside world by its glass dome. He could recall, even now, the names he had given the various families; especially the children and their pet dogs.

'There was a red glow coming from the downstairs windows – I always imagined there would be a roaring fire inside, with plenty to eat on the table...' He sounded almost wistful. 'Then, one day, I told my mother that I thought it would be a nice place to visit. She laughed and said, "Then why don't we?" Up until then, the thought hadn't occurred to me that such a thing was actually possible.'

'How wonderful!' said Hermione.

Severus looked at his hands. 'She had to Charm away the liquid, of course, but then she shrunk us and we Apparated inside. The first thing I noticed was that the snow wasn't snow at all. It was hard and sharp and I cut my hand when I tried to pick it up. Then, we trudged up to the village. Up close, you could see that it was just a lump of carved bone – or possibly even ivory – that had been painted rather garishly. There were no doors, or windows, no children, or dogs – nothing. I was so disappointed. After my mother had Apparated us out again, she said, "So you see, Severus, things are rarely what they appear to be, and very often they are best kept at a distance. More importantly, some things are better left to the imagination since they may not stand up to close scrutiny in the harsh light of reality."'

'Oh, I'm so sorry.' Hermione put her arms around him.

'What for?' Severus asked, clearly perplexed.

'Because you obviously were an imaginative little boy, and instead of encouraging you, your mother destroyed your illusions. Do you still have the globe?'

'No,' Severus replied, 'my father broke it and – why are you crying?'

'Because it's so sad.'

'Don't be ridiculous! My mother was trying to teach me a lesson about life, and I am grateful that she did!'

Hermione brushed her tears away, shaking her head. 'When I was a little girl,' she sniffed, 'I used to have a dolls' house in my bedroom. I used to imagine that while I slept, the dolls would come alive – they'd dress up, throw parties and all kinds of things. I know for certain that, if my mother had been a witch, she'd have made it happen so I could have gone to the parties with them. She wouldn't have crushed my imagination so brutally.'

'Well,' said Severus briskly, 'it would seem our mothers had very different views on child rearing. Anyway, it is all in the past, and there is nothing I can do to change it. Now, are you going to help me finish here so we can have the rest of the evening to ourselves?'

***********************

Over the next few weeks, Hermione saw little of Severus as she virtually lived in the library, cramming like mad. Flattered that Minerva had such confidence in her abilities, Hermione was determined not to let her down. Being Hermione, however, she was still panicking that she hadn't done enough right up until the moment she turned over the exam papers. She had never been so relieved when, at last, she and Harry emerged from the Defence Against the Dark Arts practical.

'That was tough,' said Harry. 'I'm glad that's over.'

Hermione ruffled his hair. 'You'll walk it,' she said. 'Did you see the look on their faces? It was like you were doing them a favour.'

Harry grinned. 'I'm parched after that. Fancy a quick drink to celebrate?'

'Why not?'

**********************

With some of the pressure off, and a big gap in her timetable, Hermione began to plan for Christmas. It was going to be a Christmas of many firsts: the first without her parents, the first without Ron, the first without a megalomaniac trying to kill her and of course, her first Christmas with Severus. It would be a quiet holiday, but Hermione was determined it wasn't going to be a miserable one since there was still much cause for celebration. Besides, she reasoned as she methodically wrote out her shopping list, she had been neglecting Severus with all the studying she had been doing and wanted to make up for all the pre-exam nerves he had had to put up with for the past two months.

The library was soothingly quiet at this time of day, just as she liked it. Hermione stared into space, twirling the feather of her quill round and round her finger trying to think of suitable Christmas gifts for Severus and her friends. She ran her eyes down her list again. The Weasleys were sorted, as was Harry. She had a vague idea what to buy her teachers since Minerva had given her a few suggestions, but Severus was proving difficult.

It was almost time for lunch. Hermione sighed and worried her bottom lip. There was always her father's wine cellar to fall back for an emergency gift, she supposed, and there was some very good cognac... She hesitated before scratching 'Brandy?' on the parchment.

The easy solution was, of course, a book, but that was the sort of present he usually received from Minerva. Hermione wanted to buy him something personal: a reminder of their first Christmas together, something he would treasure always, but she had no idea what. There was nothing else for it, she decided. She would have to venture into Muggle London.

A slight rustle of fabric caught her attention, and she glanced up to see Severus walking towards her looking very serious. She immediately covered her list.

'It's come, hasn't it?' Hermione asked, trying not to panic.

Severus nodded and handed her the piece of parchment. She unrolled it with shaky fingers.

'Well?' said Severus.

'All 'O's,' she replied weakly, handing it back to him.

Severus glanced at her results then looked around to see if anyone was listening. 'I'm very proud of you, Hermione,' he said in a whisper. 'We should go out and celebrate. Would you like that?'

'I'd rather stay in and celebrate,' she whispered back.

Resisting the impulse to kiss her, he said silkily, 'That would also be most... acceptable.'

**********************

'The tree looks very nice, Dobby,' Hermione said kindly, 'but I think it would have been better not to have used real fairies.' Indeed, it appeared as though a fight were about to break out for the coveted position on the top.

Crestfallen, Dobby's ears drooped.

'It's fine, really,' Hermione added hastily. 'Now, you know what to do on Christmas Day?'

The elf nodded excitedly. 'Yes, miss, Dobby is happy to help.' He looked around Severus' chambers. Some paper chains would be nice...

'I think, Dobby,' Hermione said, guessing what was on his mind, 'that we're pushing our luck with the tree. No more decorations, okay?'

'Very well, miss.'

Hermione went back to wrapping her presents. Even though she hadn't wanted to go overboard this year, there still seemed an awful lot. She hummed as she made the finishing touches to the bows, hoping Severus would like his gifts. 'There, all done.'

Hermione arranged the parcels under the tree with a deft flick of her wand and stepped back to admire the finished result.

She smiled approvingly. If he says, 'Bah, humbug' just once, Hermione thought, I'm going to hex him.

**********************

One of the greatest pleasures in life, Severus had decided, was waking up with an armful of warm, soft Hermione. She stirred as he spooned in closer to her, pressing her bottom back against him.

'Happy Christmas, Severus,' Hermione said sleepily.

'Indeed it is,' he agreed, nibbling her earlobe.

She giggled. 'I suppose we should get up and open our presents.'

'Everything I could ever want for Christmas is in this bed.'

Smiling, Hermione turned around and snuggled into his embrace. Everything was going to plan. Keeping him in bed a little bit longer was not going to be in the least bit difficult.

* * *

'Hermione?' Severus called from the living room, 'The tree has gone.'

He stared at the space where the ridiculous thing had stood the night before. Not only the tree but the remaining presents, to which he had added his gifts for Hermione, had vanished also. He turned around to see a grinning Hermione carrying a small package in one hand and his travelling cloak slung over her shoulder. She was dressed for the outdoors. She was obviously up to something.

'I hope you like it,' Hermione said a little shyly as she handed him the parcel. 'Be careful and don't shake it.'

Hermione bit her lower lip nervously. Would he like it? She watched as Severus carefully and methodically undid the ribbon and unpicked the Spellotape. His head fell forward so his hair hid his face from her when he finally discovered what it was.

He sighed. 'I don't know what to say, Hermione.'

'Don't you like it?'

Like it? Severus stared at the snow globe. 'No one has ever...' He looked up, swallowing hard. 'Come here.'

Hermione took the globe off him and placed it carefully on the table before she slipped into his arms.

'Why?' Severus managed to ask after a little while.

'Because everyone should have a little wonder in their lives,' Hermione replied. 'Is it anything like the one you used to have?'

He looked again at the little snow scene. 'It is very similar. Wherever did you find it?'

'A little junk shop in London.' Hermione shook out his cloak and put it around his shoulders. 'Now, close your eyes.'

When Severus opened his eyes a second later, they were inside the snow globe.

Hermione took out her wand and stirred up a gentle snowstorm.

Severus held up his hand. 'It feels real,' he said, 'but it is not melting.'

Hermione laughed. 'I didn't get an 'O' in Charms for nothing.' She grabbed his hand to tug him in the direction of the little village, but Severus pulled her towards him and kissed her instead.

'You are one clever little witch.'

Hermione smiled up at him. He hadn't seen anything yet. 'Come on.' She led him towards the first house and paused by the window. Inside was a cosy sitting room with a roaring log fire. Severus could see something moving inside.

'People?' he asked.

Hermione smiled. 'Dobby is doing me a favour. Let's go in.'

Severus pushed open the door, and Hermione followed him inside. Dobby had gone to town with the decorations, but Severus was still relieved to see the Christmas tree in one corner with his presents underneath it.

'It looks like an explosion in a tinsel factory,' said Severus.

'Shh,' Hermione said, tapping his arm. 'You'll hurt Dobby's feelings.'

The house-elf came into the room, smiling broadly. 'Lunch is served, miss.'

'Thank you, Dobby.'

They followed Dobby into the dining room where they were greeted by a table groaning under the weight of the Christmas feast that the elves had prepared for them.

Severus shook his head in disbelief. He hoped Dobby wasn't expecting them to eat all that.

'I wanted to give you something special so you would always remember our first Christmas together,' Hermione said.

Severus pulled out her chair for her. 'I will not forget this day if I live to be two hundred.'

* * *

Later, when they had finished their meal and had collapsed, stuffed, on the sofa, Severus handed Hermione the parcel he had placed under the tree. He sat back, sipping the brandy Hermione had given him, and watched as she made short work of the gift-wrapping.

Such impatience.

Hermione pulled the scrap of silk and lace out of the tissue paper and stared at it for a long time before standing up and walking over to the mirror. She could see Severus in the reflection watching her face as she held it up against her.

'Would you like me to try it on?'

Severus nodded.

Hermione reached for her wand and changed her sensible day-robe for the garment that was ostensibly a nightgown, but was totally impractical to actually sleep in. She stared at the young woman in the mirror and smoothed her hands over the ivory silk. It was beautiful; probably the most sensuous thing she had ever worn next to her skin. Unconsciously, she lifted her hair up onto her head and turned to look at the back – the garment plunged in a V of lace just below the waistline – and heard Severus gasp.

If there had been any vestiges of doubt left in Hermione's mind that Severus saw her as anything other than a grown woman, the sight of herself in the mirror and the look on his face dispelled the thought forever. This wasn't the sort of present you bought a schoolgirl; this was the kind of thing a man bought for his lover, or mistress. She found it slightly disconcerting; her friends and family had always bought her things like books or comfy jumpers – practical presents for practical, sensible Hermione. No one had ever bought her anything this frivolous; no one had ever seen her in this light. Hermione wasn't entirely sure if the person she was on the inside really matched the woman she was looking at. But, by the look of longing on Severus' face, he had no such misgivings.

'It's beautiful, Severus,' she said, smiling. 'Are you sure this is for me or for you?'

He smirked back. 'Oh, definitely for me. But I would rather you wore it.'

Hermione laughed and picked up the last present under the tree and gave it to him. She watched as he slowly unwrapped it, placing the bow carefully to one side. He shook out the contents.

'I thought your old one was looking a bit threadbare', Hermione said.

'That was... considerate of you.' Severus copied Hermione's earlier actions and held the dressing gown in front of him. Reaching for his wand, Severus quickly changed into the floor-length garment.

Hermione nodded approvingly. 'It looks just like a robe. Is it comfortable?'

'Very. Thank you,' Severus replied. He turned to retrieve something from his discarded clothing. 'I, too, wanted to give you something to mark our first Christmas.'

Hermione took the small package, opened it and gasped. 'Oh, Severus.' She picked up the diamond-studded earrings. 'They're... oh, they must have cost– '

'I could afford them,' he interrupted. 'There is no need to concern yourself.' Severus stood behind Hermione as she turned to the mirror and put them in her ears. He watched as she turned her head from side to side, admiring them, then silently, he raised his hands and pushed the straps of the nightgown off her shoulders. Hermione did not protest as the garment slipped to the floor.

'Lift your hair again.'

Hermione piled her hair on the top of her head.

'May I remove your locket?' he asked. 'I would like to see you wearing only the earrings.'

Hermione nodded, and Severus unclasped the chain.

'So beautiful...' Severus put his arms around her, bringing his hands up to cup her breasts.

Hermione moaned and leaned back against him, resting her head on his shoulder. Severus lightly trailed one hand down her side as Hermione shifted her weight to stand with her legs further apart.

'Always so wet for me,' he murmured, dipping his fingers inside her before gently circling her clit. 'I want you. Now.'

Severus started to pull Hermione over to the couch, but she stopped him.

'Over here.' Hermione guided him over to the window. Letting go of him, she placed her hands on the windowsill with her back to him and spread her legs wide.

'Like this.'

Severus groaned. Opening his dressing gown, he positioned himself behind her, teasing her entrance with the tip of his cock.

'Please, Severus.'

'I am in no hurry, my love.' Leisurely, Severus inched his way inside her, ignoring her little whimpers of frustration. The scent of Hermione's arousal filled his nostrils as he gripped her hips and began to move with slow, languorous thrusts. He glanced out through the snow flurries to the barely discernible features of his chambers – the real world with all its attendant problems – and closed his eyes against it. No one existed but them, here in this private heaven. Safe in the little globe, protected by its bubble of glass, Severus allowed himself to believe, just for a few moments, that life was perfect.

**********************

Hermione plonked herself down at the Gryffindor table.

''Morning,' said Harry.

Hermione sighed. After two weeks of eating alone with Severus, it felt strange to be sitting in the Great Hall for breakfast again.

'Have some muesli,' Ginny offered, placing a bowl in front of her.

'Thanks, Gin,' Hermione said, reaching for the pumpkin juice. 'Sorry, I'm not awake yet.'

As the familiar screeching filled the air, a snowy owl swooped down and dropped a formal looking letter in Hermione's bowl of cereal. She plucked it out, cleaned off the milk and regarded it curiously.

'Switzerland?' she said to nobody in particular.

'Huh?' said Harry.

Hermione opened the letter. 'Good grief! I've been head-hunted!'

'What?' cried Ginny in alarm.

'The Gnomes of Zurich are sending a representative to interview me as a trainee curse breaker,' Hermione said excitedly.

'Never,' said Harry, snatching the letter out of her hand. 'But, they're really secretive. They only employ the very best.'

'Yes, so how would they know about me?' Hermione wondered.

'Bill,' said Ginny, spreading jam on her toast. 'He must have told the right goblin about your results.'

'Oh, this is so exciting,' Hermione said, beaming. 'I can't wait to tell Severus.'

She glanced up at the High Table to see Severus looking at her quizzically. They generally did not talk to each other in the Great Hall, but she didn't think this could wait. She took a gulp of pumpkin juice before getting up and approaching the teachers' table.

'Not bad news, I trust, Miss Granger?' Minerva asked.

'No, Professor. Far from it.' Hermione gave the note to Severus who read it quickly before showing it to Minerva.

Severus said nothing.

'Good heavens! This is most... unusual,' Minerva said, clearly taken aback. 'Congratulations, my dear.'

'Yes,' said Severus, 'congratulations.'

'I think congratulations are a bit premature,' said Hermione, smiling at him. 'They haven't offered me a job yet.'

'I'm sure they will. Now, if you will excuse me, I must prepare for my first class.'

Hermione stared after him. He hadn't taken the news with the enthusiasm she was expecting. She turned to Minerva who was watching her closely.

'Tread carefully, Hermione,' Minerva said quietly before she, too, got up and left the Great Hall.

**********************

Two days later, Hermione was walking back from the greenhouses after Herbology when she spotted the headmistress talking to a stranger. Minerva waved at Hermione to join them.

'This is Monsieur Brulange, Hermione,' said Minerva, introducing her to the tall, dark young wizard. 'He is the representative of Gringotts, Switzerland.'

The young man took Hermione's hand and kissed it. 'Christophe, please,' he said, flashing a dazzling smile.

Hermione blushed and smiled back. He was gorgeous.

'I am staying in London for a few days, Miss Granger, and as you are aware, there are some matters I would like to discuss with you. Perhaps we could go for lunch, yes? Perhaps Saturday? Would that be convenient?'

'Um... yes, yes. Lovely, er... Christophe,' Hermione replied. 'Thank you.'

'Speaking of lunch,' said Minerva, 'you are most welcome to join us.'

'That is very gracious of you, Madame,' said Christophe. 'Hogwarts' hospitality is legendary.'

Minerva lead the way into the Great Hall. 'Perhaps, Miss Granger,' she said as Hermione stopped at the Gryffindor table, 'you would like to join us at the High Table, this once?'

Hermione nodded and followed Minerva, feeling the eyes of the entire school on her back. She stopped at Severus' chair to introduce him.

'This is Professor Snape, Christophe,' said Hermione.

Christophe shook hands but barely took his eyes off Hermione, much to Severus' annoyance.

'Christophe has come all this way to interview me, Professor.' Hermione smiled shyly at the young wizard.

'But it is a pleasure,' said Christophe, returning the smile.

'I'm sure it is,' said Severus dryly.

Minerva indicated the vacant seat next to her. 'Please. Sit, Monsieur.' She nodded at Hermione and gestured towards the chair on the other side. 'Miss Granger.'

Hermione was soon engrossed in conversation as Christophe talked about his job and the sort of qualities Gringotts looked for in their young trainees.

'Of course,' Christophe said, prodding his dessert suspiciously, 'should you repeat your results in your other three NEWTs, which I'm sure you shall, you are likely to be fast-tracked, which will mean much travelling for you.' He smiled his perfect smile again.

Blushing at the compliment, Hermione turned her head to digest this bit of information and caught Severus openly glaring at them. He did not look at all happy. Hermione stared at him quizzically, watching as he dropped his eyes to his plate and repeatedly stabbed a piece of cheese with his knife.

As Hermione said goodbye to Christophe after lunch, she noticed Severus hanging back, no doubt to find out what arrangements had been made. Hermione told him.

Severus pursed his lips. 'Saturday,' he said. 'I was hoping... Oh, never mind. This is obviously more important.' He turned and stormed off.

What on earth is the matter with him? Is he jealous or something? It was a business lunch for heaven's sake, even if it was on a Saturday. Saturday. Oh, Shit!

'Severus, wait!' Hermione called after him.

He stopped but did not turn around.

'I'm so sorry. It's your birthday isn't it?'

Severus nodded.

'I hadn't forgotten about it, honestly. I just forgot it was Saturday.'

'It is of no consequence,' he said. 'Perhaps, another time.'

'No,' Hermione replied. 'I'll cancel it.'

'You cannot do that, Hermione. You may never get another chance like this.'

Hermione thought it over. 'No,' she said, 'I'll tell him I have a prior engagement but that I can meet him for drinks beforehand. Would that be okay? We could have the rest of the day together, then.'

'Very well,' Severus agreed, cheering up slightly. 'If you are sure that would not interfere with your plans.'

'Yes, of course I am.' She looked around before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. 'I'll see you later.'

Severus watched her hurry off to her next lesson. Once she was out of sight, he turned and strolled aimlessly down the corridor without any real thought as to where his feet were taking him. His stomach was churning, and he felt sick. He stopped and leaned against a windowpane, relishing the cool of the glass against his forehead. Gazing down towards the lake, Albus' tomb was just visible from his vantage point.

'Excellent news, is it not?'

Severus jumped at the sound of Albus' voice behind him. He spun around, half-expecting to see his ghost.

'If you say so, old man,' Severus replied, spotting Albus' figure in the painting on the opposite wall.

Albus regarded him over his half-moon spectacles. 'You realise you may have to let her go, my boy.'

Severus said nothing.

'Severus,' Albus said softly, 'she is–'

'Young. Yes, I am well aware of that. You do not need to keep reminding me.'

'She has a bright future ahead of her, Severus. If she loves you, she will come back. It is a risk you will have to take.'

Severus turned away from the portrait and stared out the window. Would she, though? He had seen with his own eyes how flustered she had been when that... that–

Young, good looking–

That... Frenchman had fawned all over her. He wasn't blind. The way that Brulange character had looked at her was more than professional courtesy. Not that he was the only man Severus had observed admiring Hermione lately. There had been quite a few who had openly stared at her when they went out in public together – men who were far better looking than he was. You didn't need to be a Legilimens to read their minds when they saw who she was with. 'What does she see in him?' was written all over their faces; and the thing was, he could hardly blame them since he had often wondered the same thing. Sighing, Severus had to acknowledge he wasn't alone in noticing that Hermione had grown up and turned into a rather lovely young witch.

And so she had. Hermione had blossomed over the past few months. She exuded an air of confidence wherever she went and walked with a spring in her step. But then, she was back where she was happiest, doing what she liked the best only this time without the pressure of a war going on in the background. And of course, she was in love. In love and relaxed in the certainty that her feelings were ardently returned. But, Severus was oblivious to all of this. The fact that a large part of the reason Hermione looked so radiant was due to his love for her never even occurred to him. Instead, the cold, irrational fear in the pit of his stomach told him he should prepare for the worst.

**********************

On the morning of her appointment with Christophe Brulange, Hermione awoke alone to find a note on the pillow where Severus' head should have been. Groggily, she pushed her hair off her face and sat up to read it.

Hermione,

I shall meet you at the Leaky Cauldron at lunchtime. We shall be eating in Muggle London. Wear something suitable. Good luck with your interview.

Severus.

Hermione crumpled the note and threw it to the floor. They were supposed to go to Diagon Alley together and now... She glanced at the clock and leapt out of bed. She had barely two hours to get ready and Apparate to London. Why hadn't Severus woken her? It was like he wanted her to be late....

Uncomfortable with that thought, Hermione grabbed her dressing gown and headed for the bathroom, muttering to herself. '"Something suitable," indeed. As if I could turn up at an interview with a representative of possibly the oldest banking institution in the world in Muggle clothes! What was he thinking!'

By the time she had showered, she was convinced Severus was jealous of her having drinks with Christophe.

'How could he possibly think that I would... Idiot.'

She pulled on a demure but flattering periwinkle-blue robe and tamed her hair into a French plait.

Plain and businesslike, but not too frumpy, she thought, smoothing down the skirt.

As she strode through the grounds towards the Apparation point, Hermione continued to mull over Severus' ludicrous behaviour. If this was jealousy, she thought, he wasn't being terribly subtle about it, which was most unlike him. She stopped short.

What if he's doing this to unnerve me so I fluff my interview? The thought made her angry, but she brushed it aside. She would deal with him later. Right now, her meeting with Christophe was more important. She calmed herself and Disapparated.

Reappearing in Diagon Alley, she took a deep breath and entered the Leaky Cauldron. She spotted Christophe in the corner and smiled in greeting. He waved her over.

'I took the liberty of ordering a bottle of wine,' he said.

'Thank you,' Hermione replied, taking off her cloak before sitting down beside him. 'Is this how you normally interview prospective employees?'

Christophe smiled broadly. 'Not really, but then I have already made my assessment and reported back to my superiors. I thought we might have a drink to celebrate.' He moved closer to her. 'The final decision rests with the goblins, of course, but I can safely say that you are the kind of young person we are always on the lookout for. So, I thought we might use this opportunity to get to know one another better.' He brushed his hand against Hermione's knee. 'You know, a good word from me could do wonders for your career.'

She moved away, startled. Just what was that supposed to mean?

'Don't be so coy,' Christophe said, closing the gap again. 'It's not every day a Muggleborn witch like you gets offered this sort of opportunity. I suggest you take it.'

'And I suggest you leave before I detach your limbs from your body.'

Hermione was not surprised to see Severus at her side. 'I can handle this,' she said, standing up. 'This meeting is over.'

Christophe shrugged. 'No doubt we shall meet again.' He looked at Severus and back to Hermione. 'Perhaps by then you will have... reconsidered your position.' He Disapparated abruptly before either of them had a chance to say anything.

'You knew I was here, didn't you?' Severus asked. He had been sitting on the opposite side of the bar behind a Do Not Notice Charm.

She nodded. 'I sensed you immediately.' Ever since Hermione had joined with Severus' mind, she could detect his presence when he was close by, charm or no. 'But, what I would really like to know is why you thought it necessary to spy on me?'

Severus was unabashed. 'I did not trust him,' he said simply. 'He put something in the wine before you arrived.' Severus picked up the bottle and sniffed. 'Befuddlement Draught. As I thought.'

Hermione was horrified. 'Of all the–I should report him.'

'I should hope so,' said Severus. 'But later. I would like to enjoy the rest of my birthday with you, now. If you don't mind.'

Hermione sighed and Transfigured her clothes. Taking Severus' proffered arm, they stepped out onto the street.

* * *

Hermione lay in bed, staring at the canopy, replaying the day's events. Had she done something to give Christophe Brulange the wrong impression? She couldn't think of anything. He had seemed so nice.

Creep, she thought angrily.

Earlier that evening, Hermione had told Ginny all about it. She had been shocked to discover her friend did not find his actions surprising.

'It's not that I agree with it,' Ginny had said hastily, seeing the look of outrage on Hermione's face. 'It's very wrong, but that kind of thing is bound to happen if you enter a male-dominated profession.'

Hermione silently vowed to mount a one-woman crusade against such archaic attitudes. She sighed. Perhaps Severus was right; she was too trusting of other people's motives.

Severus turned in his sleep and threw an arm over her. Hermione shifted it to a more comfortable position, and he pulled her closer. She couldn't be angry with him; he had only been trying to protect her. She was more angry with herself for being so naïve.

Hermione had to wait another month before she received the letter from Gringotts offering her a trainee appointment in Zurich once she had completed her education. While the incident with Brulange had taken the shine off her excitement, she wasn't going to let his chauvinistic behaviour influence her choice of career.

For his part, Severus had been dreading the letter's arrival and hoping against hope that Hermione's experience would have at least made her stop and think twice about what she was getting into. Nonetheless, he offered Hermione his congratulations and tried to look pleased at the news. It was certainly a chance in a lifetime for her, and he could not begrudge her the achievement, but a nagging voice was telling him that this was the beginning of the end for them.

If only he could go with her... But he was tied to Hogwarts for another year – not long for him, certainly, but an eternity for someone Hermione's age. Anything could happen in that time.

So, that was it then. Hermione would be leaving in the summer; he couldn't go with her and he was powerless to stop her. Albus was right; he would have no choice but to let her go. He had been living in a fool's paradise imagining that someone like Hermione would stay with him indefinitely. It was laughable, really; he had so little to offer her. When you got right down to it, she didn't really need him for anything.

And so, little by little, Severus began to withdraw. He snapped at Hermione over the pettiest things and retreated into melancholic silences. Whenever she asked him what the matter was he would reply, 'Nothing.' Hermione wasn't stupid. Although she was bewildered by his change in attitude towards her at first, she quickly realised that Severus grew most agitated whenever she tried to talk about her future with Gringotts. She had her suspicions as to why, but kept them to herself initially, scared that if she confronted him outright, he would only deny it and it would make matters worse. She tried to think up a subtle, Slytherin way of reassuring Severus that her job would have no effect on their relationship, tried to show him that he his fears were groundless, but nothing seemed to work.

By the time the Easter Holidays came around, Hermione couldn't take anymore. She was tired of treading on eggshells, having to gauge his mercurial moods on a daily basis and placating his temper. She had tried the softly-softly approach; now it was time for some good old-fashioned Gryffindor bluntness. Hermione knew what she wanted to say. She just had to summon up the courage to say it.

Now, she thought, I'll do it now. There's no point in putting it off. He can only say 'no.'

* * *

Severus sat staring into the fire, warming a glass of whisky in his hands. Even with two weeks away from teaching ahead of him, he was still feeling miserable. It only brought the time when Hermione would leave that much closer. Perhaps he should be the one to end it so he could walk away with at least some of his dignity intact?

He glanced up as she entered the room, the smile on her face making his heart lurch. How could he ever have thought he could keep her? He must have been insane. He had to distance himself from her – steel himself for the unavoidable pain she would cause him, but how could he when he was fated to love her while there was breath in his body?

Hermione smiled nervously, gathering her resolve. 'Severus, I need to talk to you.' She knelt on the floor beside him and looked up at him. 'Please be honest with me, love. You're worried that I'm going to leave you, aren't you?'

Severus was taken aback by her bluntness. Had he been that obvious? He thought of denying it but there didn't seem to be any point. He nodded dumbly.

'How can you think that?' she asked quietly. 'I've opened my mind to you – shown you my heart and my soul. Don't you trust me?'

'It is not a question of trust, Hermione,' Severus replied, staring into his glass. He paused, struggling to put his fears into words. 'I know you are sincere, but you are still growing, my love. You will move on, make new friends and acquaintances. You will meet someone who will share your newfound interests. Your feelings for me will change. It is inevitable.'

Hermione sighed. 'So, I was right. That's what all this moodiness has been about. Why didn't you say something?'

Severus remained silent.

'Severus, look at me, please,' Hermione continued. 'Yes, I want to grow, learn new things, meet new people and make a name for myself in our world, of course I do. But, without you in my life, none of it would mean a damn thing.' Hermione took the glass away from him, put it on the table, and then took his hands in hers. 'I just want you to know – I want you to be sure, that whatever I do, wherever I go, you will always be the centre of my life. I'm not interested in other men, Severus. I belong with you. I want you – only you.'

'Hermione– '

'Let me finish. I've been thinking about this a lot.' She squeezed his hands. 'I just want to say, that... if you want, of course, I... um... I'm prepared to make some sort of ... er... commitment.' She looked at him pointedly.

It took a moment for the meaning of her words to sink in. She couldn't be serious, was she saying what he thought she was saying?

'Marriage?' Severus asked hoarsely.

'Um... Well, yes, though not right away, of course. I don't want to rush you. In a couple of years perhaps – but an engagement, betrothal, whatever you want to call it just to show I'm spoken for... that is... I mean if you want... Because if you don't, I'm quite happy as we are, though if we should ever decide to have children sometime – not for a long time obviously, I think I would rather be...' Hermione stopped babbling, cut off by the thunderstruck expression on his face.

'Marriage?' he repeated. Children? She wants me to father her children? 'You would marry me?'

'Hmm...' Hermione smiled. 'That depends. Are you asking?'

Her smile faded when he said nothing. 'Well,' she said, getting up, 'at least have a think about it. I'm going to the library. I'll see you later.' Hermione gave him a quick kiss, grabbed some books, and left.

Severus sat there unmoving.

'Marriage,' he said weakly. 'Children.' Did he want that? And, if not, what did he want?

Marriage. Children.

Severus turned the idea around in his head. It wasn't really all that important to him; providing she stayed, he would be happy to continue as they were, but if was important to Hermione then... He sighed. What did he want? Severus thought long and hard about the answer, but in the end it boiled down to one thing. He wanted Hermione, pure and simple. He wanted her by his side always and he wanted to keep her safe from harm. He didn't want her doing a job that put her in danger; he didn't want to lose her, and engagements could be broken...

NO! You promised your mother.

Severus sat very still for a moment as the thought flashed through his mind. Then, as if in a trance, he got up and walked the short distance to his bedroom, closing and warding the door behind him.

* * *

Severus paced the room for a while before settling himself down on the bed. He stared for a long time at the box on top of the chest of drawers and wrestled with his conscience. His thoughts drifted between the solemn promise he had made his mother before she died and the girl who had brought so much joy into his life: the girl who lay in his arms every night, coming alive under his touch, the girl who thought him beautiful. He made his decision.

Summoning the musical jewellery box, Severus set it down on the bed beside him. It had belonged to his mother, a Christmas present from his father the year before Severus had been born. He reached underneath, wound the key and opened the lid. The tinkling strains of the Blue Danube filled the silence as Severus removed its contents. In essence, it contained the few personal possessions of his mother that remained – her wedding ring and some other small pieces of jewellery, a few photographs – some Muggle, some wizarding, Severus' first baby shoes and his Hogwarts' acceptance letter.

Once empty, Severus ran his finger along the bottom and pressed his thumbs into the corners, releasing the catch that hid the secret compartment. He stared at the small leather pouch a few moments before finally removing it. The promise he had made his mother all those years ago rang in his ears, but he ignored it. Severus picked up one of the wizarding photos and looked at her horror-stricken face. Eileen shook her head frantically and mouthed, 'NO.'

'I am sorry, Mum.' Severus turned her photograph face down on the bed. Undoing the strings of the pouch, he felt the unmistakeable magical call of its contents and sighed in defeat. Some promises were meant to be broken.

A/N: 'CV' stands for Curriculum Vitae.

Special thanks go to Septentrion and Alienor for coming up with a good French name on a day when my brain refused to cooperate.