Chapter Twelve

Disclaimer: My thanks to JK Rowling for having such a splendid imagination and for allowing us to play around with her characters in the fanfiction universe. She gets all the credit for anything you recognize; the plot for this story is entirely mine (though I don't get paid).

Chapter Twelve

Hermione stood, staring at her profile in the mirror, admiring the slight bulge of her abdomen, smoothing her hands over it lovingly. She closed her eyes and imagined what the small being inside of her looked like; once she reached three months gestation in a couple weeks, it would be a miniscule, completely formed child, according to the book Ginny had sent her. It was a fact she thought of often, and the thought made her smile.

Oddly, the fact that she could no longer wear her jeans also made her smile. Normally, something like that would have had her dieting and weighing herself obsessively until the button on her jeans closed and the waistband no longer cut into her skin uncomfortably. Last weekend, however, she had happily folded all of her jeans and placed them into storage. The only problem was she had no idea when she'd have the time to shop for larger clothes. She could visit Madam Malkin's or Gladrags for some robes, but she really wanted some regular Muggle clothing as well. She was wearing her exercise outfits and knit skirts now because they all had elastic waistbands. Her tummy curved outward enough that if she didn't put a robe on, she invited the question, "Are you pregnant?" from the grandmotherly types who thrived on other people's business.

She smoothed her jumper over the small bulge, trying to make it look larger than it actually was, and for a brief moment, Harry's face flitted about the edge of her thoughts. His baby. This was his baby. And he knew nothing about it. Couldn't know anything about it...he was married to someone else now. She gently pushed those thoughts away; she didn't want anything to spoil her mood. Things were finally looking up, and she wasn't going to let these twinges of guilt ruin that right now.

She hadn't felt this happy in a long time. The business partnership with Severus had relieved much of the stress she had been under for so long, and today everything was finally going to be settled. She had signed and owled the papers to the solicitor the morning after her meeting with Severus. It had taken two weeks for everything to be finalized, but the wait hadn't dampened her spirits one bit.

The meeting she had had with Severus was still very fresh in her mind. Their conversation had replayed in her mind countless times since then: the realization that it had been he who had prevented her from eating Mr. Burke's potion-laced muffins, the discovery that Lucius Malfoy was still alive but in a coma, the truth behind Albus Dumbledore's death....

Her reflections had made her acknowledge that Severus Snape...or Samuel Prince as he was now known in the wizarding world...was someone she could trust. After all, he had saved her baby and had offered answers to all of her questions without reservation. And then there was the fact that he was also saving her business, something she was immensely grateful for, though she couldn't figure out just yet what had impelled him to do so.

Then there was the added benefit of somehow feeling safer these past couple weeks. Severus Snape had shown up out of the blue and rescued her, and now it felt as though he were watching over her, ready to catch her if she should fall, to prevent any catastrophe that may come her way. She had this somewhat illogical feeling that if something else was to happen, he would show up and 'save the day.' That thought made her laugh out loud. It made him sound like her own personal superhero. Yet, oddly, in a way, he was. A superhero who had been there at exactly the right time to pluck her from danger... How he had happened to be there at that precise moment remained a mystery. Though why should she complain? She deserved to have someone else looking out for her, especially now, when she had been doing it all on her own for so long.

More likely, she felt safer because she had very quickly deduced the true identity of Mr. Burke. She had had plenty of time to figure it out as she had lain in her bed, unsuccessfully trying to sleep after their meeting, going over all that had been said. Even though the question went unanswered, lost in the melee of all they had spoken about, somewhere within their convoluted conversation the answer had become obvious. She had just needed time to review the evening and pick apart their conversation. With the question, Who exactly am I in danger from? he had coaxed her into telling him what had happened with Lucius Malfoy on the battlefield and had told her that Lucius Malfoy was still alive, though barely.

After the surreality of the evening began to wear off, it all had become painfully clear. Lucius Malfoy was in a coma because of her. It would only make sense that his family, upset by his condition, would want to exact revenge. She didn't really know Narcissa Malfoy. The woman was a passing acquaintance, Hermione having only had a minor encounter with her, which hadn't been too surprising, and Hermione had developed a hard shell against the bigotry of her blood status by then... But Draco. She wouldn't put it past him to try to harm her. Less substantial things had provoked the boy into acting irrationally in the past. And never mind that harming her or her baby wouldn't bring Lucius Malfoy back to the land of the living. It had been done simply because he had been impotent to do anything else. Hermione wondered in a mind as twisted as Draco's was, if it was at all satisfying.

It had all fallen neatly into place, like a jigsaw puzzle, as soon as she figured it out. The books that Mr. Burke...Draco...had ordered from her shop were rare and hard to come by for a reason. They dealt with the aftermath and aftereffects of Dark Magic. Draco must be looking for a way to revive his father. He had also been looking for a reason to get close to her. How ironic that it was she who had been able to procure those books for him. It was sort of like killing two birds with one stone: he obtained the books needed that had the best chance of helping Lucius, while at the same time, he could get revenge on the person who placed his father in this condition.

With all the guilt she had felt, and still felt, over what she had been forced to do to Lucius Malfoy...irrational guilt, she knew, but guilt nonetheless...she was more than happy to help rectify the situation by supplying Draco with the books. Oddly enough, she found she could understand Draco's need for revenge. If someone had hurt her parents in the same way, even accidentally, she would be devastated. Though, she had to admit to herself, she would never seek revenge ... and if it had in fact been an accident, knowing what she knew now, she would feel pity for the person, rather than anger. And he hadn't succeeded, so no harm done. She just had to be more careful in the future...more aware of the people she came into contact with on the street, in the bookshop. Any one of them could be using Polyjuice Potion or glamours to disguise their actual appearance. And once Draco found out that she was still pregnant...

Shuddering, she stepped away from the mirror, not willing to visit that scenario. It was nearly time to open the shop, and she didn't want to open late. She had work to do in preparation for her second meeting with Severus. That wasn't going to happen until tonight, after the shop closed, but she wanted to be prepared. She had a couple ideas she wanted to propose to him to attract more business, and with his added funds and support, she should be able to realize them.

~ o ~

Severus had a few ideas of his own to propose to Hermione, and he was busy preparing for the meeting as well. A stack of small mirrors, each a few inches across, were sitting patiently next to his cauldron as he mixed together the necessary ingredients: liquefied moonstone, black beetle eyes, powdered hellebore, and Jobberknoll feathers. The resulting potion had an opalesque appearance that seemed to shift in and out of visibility until you told yourself it was impossible and blinked your eyes, only to have it happen again. It looked very inviting, actually. The kind of look that made you need to touch out of curiosity, like an involuntary glide of a finger across the sheen of an intriguing fabric in a garment shop. But Severus did in fact think twice about putting his finger in this potion.

Making sure he was organized, he gently immersed each of the mirrors in the awaiting potion, dropping them in, one by one, for a few seconds and then retrieving them with a pair of tongs. He took care to place each mirror upon the wooden work board to the side of the cauldron in a predetermined area; for as each mirror emerged, wet with potion it had a jewel-like, shimmering quality, but as it dried, it gradually became invisible. After they dried, he'd find them only by touch. Once dry, it was safe to touch them. He wouldn't recommend coming into contact with one while wet.

One of the first things he planned to propose to Hermione at their meeting tonight was installing a surveillance system throughout the bookshop. This was mostly for her safety; Severus would be able to watch the goings-on in the shop through identical coupled...though not potion-immersed...mirrors that he would keep in his home.

The invisible mirrors would be located around the bookshop, and the customers would not realize they were being watched. He figured that, in a way, this was impinging on their privacy, but Hermione's safety took precedence. He wouldn't be watching the mirrors all the time, but he did still have the little spelled 'bug' in her shop and the wards that warned him if someone entered, and he could easily check through a simple Audio if the mirrors needed monitoring.

There was an added bonus to these mirrors as well. If he was unable to monitor them at a particular moment, they performed much like a Muggle surveillance system and would remember and replay anything they 'saw' within the last twenty-four hours. He loved these little mirrors; they were quite versatile.

Once they all had been submersed and had sufficiently dried into obscurity, Severus gathered them all into a little velvet pouch and prepared himself to Apparate into the alleyway across from the bookshop. He assumed she had anti-Apparition wards on the bookshop and the flat above. If she hadn't before the incident with Draco-as-Burke, he knew she would have installed those wards afterwards. It was, after all, logical, and Hermione had always been a logical person.

Pointing his wand at his face, he applied the glamours that he had been accustomed to wearing when going out amongst the wizarding public as Samuel Prince. In a few seconds, his skin had warmed to a golden tan and his hair had taken on a silvery-white hue. The structure of his face became more angular, cheekbones higher and a little more aristocratic. Overall, he looked older and more worldly, probably more handsome, he admitted freely. For some reason, when he wore this face, he felt a little more confident, a little more willing to share a bit of his real personality rather than the dour, dark, professorly countenance he had effected for so many years that it had become, in essence, 'him.' It was wonderful to be able to relax into the more likeable Samuel Prince and let a bit more of himself come through.

Checking the time, he saw it was nearly nine p.m. Hermione would be closing the shop soon, and he didn't want to be late. It wasn't his habit to be late for anything, but he was most looking forward to this meeting. He hadn't been frequenting the shadows of the alleyway ever since their meeting, and he found that he actually missed seeing her. But the sun had started setting later, and the likelihood that he would have been noticed by a passer-by was greater. In any case, he felt there was no immediate threat. As far as Draco was concerned, he thought he had rid Hermione of her child. Draco would find out soon enough that he hadn't been successful, and Severus hoped the gossip that filtered through the pure-blood circles would give him ample warning if and when Draco decided to act again. For now, the little bug he had placed above the mirror in the shop was sufficient and helped him feel better about not holding vigil outside the shop.

He locked the front door as he stepped outside and then took the usual wizarding precautions and added a few wards. One could never be too vigilant. He rolled his eyes; his outcast status had made Alastor Moody's motto a way of life, but the word 'vigilant' always made him think about the one-eyed Auror, a thought he could really do without.

Confident that he had what he needed and everything was locked up tight, he Apparated to the alleyway across from the Strega Letteraria. Dusk hung heavily over Hogsmeade in the lazy way it always did in the spring, and he breathed in the heavy, dewish air. It was a lovely evening, perfect for a stroll, and he regretted not getting out enough to enjoy evenings like these.

He could see Hermione through the large picture window of the shop. The lights gently glowed through the slowly deepening gathering of night, and he watched as she swiftly bustled about, tidying up, getting ready to close, unaware that she was under scrutiny.

He hesitated, content for the moment to admire how the still-dim lights of the shop softened her image and made her curls shine like burnished copper. Every time she would pass the mirror behind the front counter, she would pause to check her appearance. Sometimes it was just a glance; twice she stopped to remove a smudge from her cheek and apply a Cleansing Charm. He could see she was nervous, especially when she checked her watch one, two, three times, undoubtedly anxious for his arrival.

Thinking it best to end her anxiety, he made his way across the street and entered the shop. He smiled, a comfortable, casual smile of greeting, and Hermione looked at him in hesitant recognition. This was the face he had worn when he had first entered the shop a few weeks ago with the intention of placing the bug above the mirror...a doting father of a Hogwarts soon-to-be seventh-year.

"Oh!" she exclaimed in surprise as she recognized him as that man. And then, "Oh!" in a different tone of voice as she realized it was Severus beneath the glamour. The smile that grew upon her face made his chest swell. It was welcoming, genuine, and not a hint of hesitancy resided in it. Her nervousness, however, was also apparent. She fidgeted with a book she had been about to reshelf and suddenly had no idea what to do with it.

"Good evening, Hermione." He smiled at her in return. "Please, don't let me stop you from closing the shop."

Spurred back into action by Severus' words, she nodded and resumed her duties. "Right, then." She moved off to put away the book she was holding and then turned around again, flustered, and said, "I'll be right with you," before bustling off to hurriedly finish her evening duties.

It was a flurry of unnecessary activity. She would go one way to do something and then remember she had forgotten something else and turn to do that only to remember what she had been about to do. A couple times, she hesitated in obvious uncertainty of what needed to be done next. Finally, the doors were locked and the evening wards were in place, and she turned to face him, suddenly bereft of any busy work to hide her nervousness. Her fingers took up the duty, and her nervousness had an outlet in the twisting digits. She looked a little relieved when she found the otherwise composed Mr. Prince was similarly fidgeting with a small velvet bag at his side.

"Mister...um, Severus...what do I call you when you look like this?" she asked awkwardly.

Mr. Prince smiled...a stunning, rather attractive smile, leaving Hermione to wonder what a smile like that would look when he was wearing his own face...if it would look as becoming. Some of his original features, especially his nose, shone through the glamours, but only because she knew who he was. It did make it easier to think of him as Severus even though he wore Samuel's face.

"It's probably best that you get used to calling me Samuel when I look like this. This is my public persona, the one everyone sees, and it should match with the name."

"Yes. Yes, of course. Samuel," she replied, trying the name out for size, trying to internalize this name and face so she wouldn't slip up and call him Severus in public. "That shouldn't be too hard to get used to ... I think." She smiled shyly.

"Good." There was that disarming smile again, which put her at ease. She knew glamours only obscured one's true appearance, not one's personality. Samuel...no, Severus ... obviously it was going to take a little getting used to...undoubtedly had a few personality traits he didn't feel comfortable sharing without the anonymity of a glamour.

"What's that?" Hermione pointed to the little velvet bag, which no longer was victim to fidgeting fingers.

"This," Samuel walked forward so he could show her what was inside, "is your new security system."

There was nothing in the bag, yet from the outside, its bulk showed that there must be something within. She looked at Samuel with a quizzical eye.

"Security system? I don't doubt that I need one, but I don't see anything in this bag," she said, reaching out to let the weight of the bag rest in the palm of her hand.

Samuel kept silent while the gears turned in Hermione's brain. When realization dawned on her face, Severus smirked beneath his Samuel guise in appreciation of the Hermione-ish expression.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed. "Of course! An invisible security system ... How clever!"

Her eyes darted sheepishly toward Samuel, expecting a rather Professor Snape-like reaction to her exclamation. Clever. How unclever of her to say something so spontaneous around him. He laughed though, putting her uneasiness to rest.

"Clever, indeed. Well, that wasn't exactly what was going through my mind when I was brewing the Conspicio Adversus Potion, but 'clever' is rather more complimentary."

His laughter was contagious. Her softer, higher tones complemented his.

"I suppose not," she conceded. "I've never heard of the Conspicio Adversus Potion. Strange, since I think I've read every Potions book I could get my hands on. Well, aside from the vast library on Dark Potions. I've only read a few of those. This isn't..."

"No, it's not," he interrupted before her imagination could abscond with that thought. "You don't know about it because this potion happens to be one of my own creations. There are several volumes of those in my personal library. If you had heard of this potion, I'd have to revisit my own security wards and check my lab for wayward body parts, since my texts are further protected with some rather ... damaging hexes, if you don't know the proper passwords."

Her face ashened a few shades at the thought. Well, she had wondered where the old Potions master had got off to. Looked like she just found him. The dichotomy between the smooth, more affable Samuel Prince and the harsh, stringent Severus Snape made her heart step its pace up a few beats per minute.

A cough behind her hand attempted to quiet the sudden fluttering inside her chest. She understood the possibilities behind an invisible surveillance system, and it was exciting, to say the least.

"Don't tell me you have a system of closed-circuit televisions somewhere, where you can monitor what's going on in the shop?"

His eyes lit up at the decidedly Muggle choice of words. "Not televisions, of course, but a set of mirrors that have been coupled to the ones in this bag. I will be able to watch what is going on in this shop, and if I miss anything, I will be able to play back anything that happened in the last day."

"So, I suppose I shouldn't pick my nose or adjust my brassiere or anything like that, then," she said most seriously.

"Not unless you want me to know what color lingerie you are wearing that day, no, I suppose not." His smirk was tempered by Samuel's features.

She smirked in kind.

~ o ~

After watching Samuel remove the mirrors from the bag, looking as though he held nothing but air between two fingers, Hermione relegated herself to merely pointing out the locations, which she had long ago discovered had the best vantage point of various areas of the shop. It didn't take long to finish the job, and only minor adjustments were needed to ensure there were no blind spots.

When he was finished, a slight awkwardness settled over the two. There was much to talk about, but neither really knew how to begin. Finally, Samuel made a move and insisted that the night was far too beautiful and that they should not waste it by remaining indoors. So, checking his visage in the mirror behind the register, which would have looked vain if Hermione had not known he was only double-checking his glamours, he led her out the door and re-locked the doors for her, motioning her to put up the wards, which only she knew.

It was a lovely night, just as Samuel had said. Spring had been kind to them this year, and early May had been particularly so with balmy evenings, fragrant with spring blossoms. She was glad for the exercise and the fresh air, something, he told her, that she should indulge in more frequently in order to keep up her health. The night air seemed to relax them, and they walked side by side at a leisurely pace.

The more comfortable atmosphere seemed to open the doors to conversation, and ideas flowed from Hermione like a babbling brook. It had been so long since she dared to dream of what her shop could yield. In the beginning, she had been wary of spending any money, frightened a little, if truth be told, because she wasn't sure how expenses would balance with whatever profit she made. She admitted right off that she had been conservative in her business venture from the outset, and by the time she had realized that that had probably been a mistake, she had very little money to work with.

Severus listened, visibly enjoying the springtime air and finding that he enjoyed Hermione's exuberance as well. It was refreshing and reminded him, only briefly, of the little girl who sat in his class with her hand permanently in the air, an answer forever on her tongue. He didn't miss much about Hogwarts, but one thing he did miss was the rare student's enthusiasm...even the occasional eager hand constantly waving itself in front of his face...and the last student who had impressed him with such a bright attitude had been Hermione.

Hermione. By the time her sixth year was winding down to a close, she had blossomed into a woman, nearly of legal age. Though not many boys her age had taken notice...save for Ronald Weasley, who couldn't quite get it together to realize he had noticed...Severus had noticed her. He remembered thinking at the time that she would be an amazing woman when she finally graduated and found her niche in the world.

He had forgone relationships for so long because he had never met someone who lived up to the standards he had set for a life partner. It was strange to find a student who indeed filled those standards, and he had watched her that whole year, wishing that circumstances were different, that Voldemort had truly died all those years back, that he didn't have to maintain his role as "spy," that he could watch her graduate, become a woman, and eventually court her.

But circumstances were what they were, and life didn't always travel down the desired path. Especially when Albus Dumbledore threw his wand into the mix. Bloody meddling old man. Severus still had fond feelings for the deceased wizard, regardless of Albus's never-ending manipulations.

His smile blanketed the conversation as they walked. He was content with being in Hermione's company, listening to her thoughts and ideas, and offering the occasional comment whenever she allowed a respite in her continuing dialogue. Her ceaseless banter seemed to affix his smile more firmly. He was here, spending time with her; she knew who he was, accepted him, and understood why he had done what he had done; she valued his opinions and was wonderful at holding an intelligent conversation. His life was permanently altered from what he had ever thought it could be, but she seemed to fit into it so well. What more could he want?

By the time they had exhausted all talk about the shop, for that night anyway, conversation flowed more freely than it had when the night began. They became so engrossed in talking about Severus' independent research and invented potions that they didn't even notice passing by the door to the bookshop for the third time. When they did finally realize how late it had gotten...thanks to good old Connor and his solitary, inebriated antics as he stumbled out of the Three Broomsticks, only to be followed by Madam Rosmerta's "Thank ye gods!" and the door loudly locking behind him...Hermione was listening to Severus expound on his childhood dream of patenting potions and authoring textbooks.

Hermione chose to walk next to Severus without looking at him. By doing so, she could listen to his voice, deep and warm and soft, and keep her mind on the fact that it was Severus, and not Samuel, with whom she was sharing this beautiful evening. Maybe it was because of this that when Severus started talking about boyhood dreams, she felt the strangeness of the situation. She never would have believed she would ever be having such a conversation with Severus Snape. Though for however much it was a strange situation, it was one she'd not trade for anything in the world at that moment.

It was with the realization of the late hour that they agreed to schedule weekly meetings so that Hermione could update him on the goings-on of the shop. Severus insisted that she get her much-needed sleep and Apparated them both to the door of the bookshop. He waited until she was safely inside and her wards had slid into place. Only when a light finally appeared above his head, signaling that she had entered the flat above, did he allow himself to Disapparate home.

Hermione heard the crack of his Disapparition and sighed. She had had such a lovely evening. It had been a long time since she'd had the opportunity to speak to someone like this, both professionally and personally. She wandered into her bedroom and lazily began getting ready for bed, too happy to focus on such a mundane activity, their conversation and Severus' voice still floated through her mind.

She had noticed halfway through their walk that Severus had let the glamour on his voice slip, and she was sure it was intentional, for voice glamours were the easiest to keep in place. It was enjoyable to listen to him talk about potions, and especially the intimacy of his childhood dreams, in his own voice. A smile formed upon her lips as she felt the impression of his voice settle over her body in a very pleasant way. It had her heart skipping beats and her cheeks darkening.

She found herself wishing it was next week already.

~

A/N: The whole idea of the mirrors must be credited to Lotm (aka ladyofthemasque), who created linked mirrors (though I'm not sure any were invisible) in the Sons of Destiny series (octet) of books, of which The Sword, The Wolf, and The Master have now been published. I've been lucky to be one of her betas throughout. She has created her own magical world in these books, and it is a romance (and quite the romance, if you know Lotm!) to boot. The titles of the books are linked if you want to know more.