What's In A Name?

Disclaimer: This story's universe and characters were created by J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from it, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Hermione stood shaking before the door that led back to the chessboard room. With concentrated effort, she began slowing her breathing down to a normal pace, but her efforts were soon submerged completely when she saw him walking towards her: his dark, flowing hair and glowing black eyes accentuating the pallor of his face.

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, needing to regain control of herself if she was going to be convincing in her pretense of normalcy. But if she had been watching, she would have caught the strange look that passed over the usually carefully impassive face of Severus Snape. His eyes glowed even brighter, and if anyone had been looking into them, those normally curtained windows to his soul would have revealed an intense display of awe, desire, need, and fear.

When she looked at him again, her composure felt steady, but she could feel the heat of her flushed cheeks. The blush would only worsen if she kept dwelling on what she had seen. Him. Her. She shook her head slightly as if to clear her thoughts.

Of course, his features were controlled and unreadable. Thankfully, he did not stop after his approach, but walked directly to the door beside her.

Though, as she watched him cross in front of her and place his hand on the door handle, there was something different about him. The way he was standing, maybe, his energy more enlivened than ususal. Or, she sighed, just a mere projection of her own jittery energy. He turned his face and caught her eye.

"Shall we go?" Snape asked politely. Hermione nodded.

He did not say a word, for which Hermione was grateful. He could have goaded her again about what she had seen in the Mirror. He could have remarked on how pathetic she was. Yet, there was a respectful silence between them. A suspicion crept in: that he had also chanced a glance in the Mirror and was therefore preoccupied with his own revelation. The Mirror of Erised was known to have a profound effect on people.

Reaching the room that harbored the exanimate winged keys, they found that a lone broomstick remained. There had been three brooms when the trio had come down here in their first year. Hermione had used one to transport herself and a semiconscious Ron out to seek help for Harry, who had gone on alone to find the Stone and its predator. Hermione supposed that Dumbledore then must have used the other one in a similar fashion to exit with an unconscious Harry.

"Ladies first," Snape said eloquently, gesturing towards the hovering broomstick. Hermione climbed on near the tail. Snape settled onto the broomstick in front of her. Turning his head towards her he said, "Now, hold onto me tightly. I would not want to hazard you falling and plummeting into that pit of Devil's Snare."

He turned his face forward again, and Hermione tentatively wrapped her hands around Snape's waist. The broom shot up and began to fly out of the room. Hermione clenched tighter around his waist, tighter perhaps than necessary. But of course, that was understandable, she told herself. Flying really was very frightening to her. She pressed her front against his back and let out a sigh as she leaned into him, her cheek resting in the softer place between his shoulder blades.

The wind rushed past them as they soared higher, nearing the trapdoor above. He really does feel very good, Hermione thought. I remember feeling this way when he touched my hand in our lesson the other day.

Hermione did not know what she would do about the sudden awareness she had of having feelings for Severus Snape. He was the last person in the world she could expect to return her affections. Ha! She had a better chance with that Muggle-hating Draco Malfoy, an old school rival who was currently locked up in Azkaban, than she did with her illustrious professor.

Shoving the concern away until later, Hermione quietly enjoyed these few minutes that she was allowed to be so close to this man whom she was so inexplicably drawn to.

His warmth flooded her, and she felt a disorienting, deep satisfaction flow through her every limb. Thank goodness she was holding on so tightly, or else she very well might have fallen off. Soon, most terribly too soon, they were through the trapdoor, and Snape slid off the broomstick. He held his hand out to Hermione, and she took it as he helped her dismount.

Her hand in his.

*

Snape was aware of each infinitesimal moment as he guided her hand back to her side, releasing their hands from their embrace.

He turned quickly and began heading back down the third floor corridor. After a few minutes of walking in silence, he stopped abruptly. In his mind he had been devising an intricate and satisfying explanation that could counter the supposed infallibility of Soul Magic, the source of magic that powered the Mirror of Erised, but all his reasoning fell flat in the end. Nothing trumped Soul Magic.

Hermione was looking at him strangely for stopping, so he said, "Thank you, Miss Granger, for assisting me today in retrieving these bottles."

"It was certainly not a disagreeable task, Professor," she said politely.

A familiar twinge of irritation gripped Snape at her words. So that is what it was, Snape thought, realizing that he had come to strongly disfavor Hermione calling him "Professor."

Back to business. "Since we are already occupied with your lessons on Mondays and Thursdays, perhaps I should have you meet with me an additional day each week for the brewing of the Azkaban potions."

"Yes, that sounds best. Any day is fine with me, Professor."

Snape cringed again upon hearing that word on her lips. Was it just him or was she addressing him as such more often than was called for? "Will Fridays be convenient for you..."

He wanted to call her Hermione, but it was too soon for that. She would think she had finished earning the respect required of an accomplished apprentice.

"...Miss Granger?" His more irrelevant proclivities did not need to be so consistently relentless. On the other hand, while irrelevant, they were also safe.

Snape silently shushed his irritating inner voice. If he kept arguing with himself, he would not hear her response. He made sure to focus on her eyes, which nearly led to another internal argument.

Hermione did not have a chance to answer though, because...

"Hello!" someone called from down the hallway. Snape and Hermione turned to see a smiling woman with blonde, curly hair approaching them, wearing robes deep maroon in colour and accessorized with gold spangles. She was Matilda Fletchley, the new Charms professor.

When she stood in front of them, she held out her hand first to Snape. "Severus Snape! It is good to see you again! It has been ten years since I last set foot in this glorious school! I remember you well, but I dare say I do not remember much about Potions!" She smiled winningly as if her admission were somehow cute instead of actually distinguishing the high measure of her density.

Snape composed his face into the same polite look of deference with which he regarded all his fellow staff members. "It is a pleasure to see you again, Matilda."

She laughed amiably and said, "Severus, I do look forward to working with you this year!" Matilda then turned to Hermione and offered her hand. "Miss Granger, is it not?" Her tone was indifferent, but she did have the requisite smile in place.

Snape saw the annoyance flash through Hermione's eyes, obviously offended at the disregard her colleague was showing her.

He spoke before Hermione could answer and before he could deliberate at it for too long. He enunciated each word with smooth precision, sounding helpful and informative in presentation, in keeping with the polite façade of their whole encounter. "Actually, you may call her Hermione, Matilda. If you remember, she is now a teacher at this school."

"Hermione." Matilda acknowledged her with a nod of her head. She released the handshake. "Dear, dear, dear, you just seem so incredibly youthful! Rita's stories about your love affairs as a student are still fresh in my mind. Seems like only yesterday, doesn't it? Do forgive me, but I..." she turned back to Snape and directed the rest of her comment at him "thought I heard you refer to your young apprentice here as 'Miss Granger' when I approached just now?"

An ingratiating smile planted into place on his face, he said, "Yes, indeed, you heard correctly. However, Hermione was my student here only just last year...was simply a matter of habit."

He gave Hermione a nod that was meant to convey his chagrin for the pretended slip. Her eyes widened in surprise then narrowed together as if she was trying to decide if his comment was only for Matilda's benefit.

"Yes, yes, yes. Old habits do die hard, do they not?" she said, drawing their attention back to her. She smiled. "Well, it's been delightful seeing you again after all this time. I do hope you will come by my office sometime so we can catch up?"

"I dare say I shall," came his succinct reply.

"Very good. I am going now to get my office set up." She held up a purple and burgundy purse, showcasing it with a brilliant smile. "Got everything here. The old professor, Flikwit, or whatever his name was, had very poor taste, indeed!" She began to walk past them and said, "See you around, Severus..." She glanced at Hermione. "And you, Hermione."

When she had disappeared out of sight, Snape and Hermione continued their trek back to the office. Snape said, "You will be able to make the Potions office over so that it suits your tastes, Hermione. Slughorn left it looking a bit extravagant, and there is a lingering stench of what bares strong resemblance to old ladies' aromatic balm."

"Er...Professor?"

"That is quite enough going on with that 'Professor' business," he cut in smoothly. "Refer to me by my name; you are a staff member at this school, after all."

Hermione hesitated. They had ceased walking again as Snape awaited her response. "If you wish it...Severus."

For one long moment they shared a look. A look that could be explained simply by the basic rules of social etiquette. People acknowledged each other when something changed between them. That was all it was. But he was caught up in the moment too long, watching her eyes sparkle in the same manner they did when they were leaving the chamber that housed the Mirror of Erised. Glittering specks of light danced atop deep brown, swirling around a shiny, black center. Severus checked in with his breath to make sure it was not moving as rapidly as his heart. He cursed silently, angry that he was letting the Mirror of Erised influence him.

She spoke, breaking the momentary silence, "S...Severus, thank you for acknowledging my efforts to do well as a teacher in this school. I assure you that I will continue to work hard."

"I am confident you will, Hermione."

He said her name carefully; he could not go back now that he had granted her that acknowledgment. Not wanting to see her smile, he turned away, reaching into his robe pocket and pulling out the tiny glass vials as his excuse for doing so.

"Well, Hermione, we have finished our work for today. I shall take these to the lab and begin reconstructing the potions. You may leave, and I will see you Thursday. Remember, you can set up your office whenever you are ready. It has been unwarded for you. I just ask you to key me into any new wards you set since I need continual access to the lab.."

"Of course..." She drug out the 's' as if she had intended to say something more but hesitated to. "...Severus. It will probably be a few weeks before I'm ready to move in. And to answer the question you asked before Miss Fletchly..." she smirked, and his own mouth twisted in amusement "...came by, Fridays will work fine for me."

"Then you are not disinclined to work Fridays due to having any other engagments, I presume?"

She scoffed. "Working Fridays will save me from having to endure socializing at the pub with everyone. And I'd just run out of good excuses. This will be perfect."

"All your friends go out on Fridays?" He grimaced as he thought about who her friends were. "I wouldn't want you distracted, wishing you were having a good time instead of doing tedious potion-work. Perhaps another..."

"No, trust me. It's fine. And it is the potion-work that will be fun and the social scene tedious." She shook her head. "The unpleasant company..." She trailed off, barely murmuring her last words.

Severus did not care to hear whatever drama was between Hermione and her young friends. This was summer break. His break from all that childish nonsense.

He almost said something snide instead. Something about how he had always known how unpleasant her friends were, and she was just now figuring this out? He kept himself in check, however, since their relationship must now hold to the standard of respect expected between colleagues.

Hermione stammered out a quick goodbye, walking hurriedly to the stairway that led down to the main floor. Severus watched her depart, then walked quickly to his office to get his notes before going to the lab. He was looking forward to his project. It would require a great deal of concentration and focus, just what he needed now.

Tuesday afternoon found Hermione sitting on her sofa, reading the brand new edition of Arithmancy Today. She found it rather unfortunate that this new edition had not become available until after she graduated Hogwarts. The new information it contained was revolutionary.

Her mind was lost in a swirl of numerical relations and calculations when she was interrupted by a Floo call.

"Hermione?" said Harry's voice.

Hermione turned towards her small fireplace and saw Harry's head amidst the green flames. She opened her mouth in surprise.

"Are you busy, Hermione? I was hoping we could talk."

"I'm not terribly busy. Come on in then."

Harry emerged through the pit, hunched over due to its miniscule size. He stood up, and the ashes flew helter-skelter to the floor.

"Scourgify!" said Hermione automatically.

Harry strode into the room and picked up the book Hermione had been reading. "Ugh, Arithmancy! That has to be the most boring book ever! I expect you haven't had much company without Ron, Ginny, or me around?"

Hermione snatched back her book and set it on the end table. "Company? Oh, I have had plenty of company to be going on with...Howlers are such perfect company, highly entertaining, you know."

Harry smiled tentatively. "Hey, I was definitely out of it to send you that, and I'm sorry. Sit down with me so we can talk?"

Hermione nodded curtly as she sat down, her eyes blazing...belying the calmness of her demeanor. She would not throw a fit, but she still wanted Harry to see how angry she felt.

"Hermione, I need to know what's going on with you and Ron. Is this just another infamous row? Will you work this out?"

Incredulous. Hermione looked at him pointedly, her eyes blazing more infernally in answer.

Harry sighed. "Listen, you are both my best friends. I want you to be happy just as much as I want Ron to be happy. It was hard seeing how miserable he was when you broke things off."

"Didn't care to think that I might be feeling thoroughly miserable myself, did you?" Hermione could not help snapping at him.

Harry grimaced apologetically before continuing. "Remember when you and Ron fought for weeks back in our third year? And how you two ignored each other completely while he was dating Lavender in sixth year?"

"How could I forget?"

"Well, I hated having to go between you two all the time, being a friend to you both separately. I feared we'd never be right again. Then, when you and Ron started showing interest in each other, and you asked him to go to Slughorn's Christmas party with you, I just knew... knew... that it might eventually mean the end to what we all had together."

Hermione's expression softened a little, her curiosity piquing. "So you didn't even want us to get together?"

"Well, I always knew it'd happen. I wanted you two to be happy, and I was ready to support you. And now I'd rather you two had never taken the chance than to have it end like this. Hermione, isn't there anything you can do..."

"No, Harry." Hermione did not want to hear that. It was not up to her to fix this. "I will have to let Ron calm down for awhile. Believe me, I wish we hadn't taken our relationship there either, and I don't want to lose him, but we cannot continue it for the wrong reasons. You get that, don't you?"

Harry nodded. "I'll talk to Ron. I'm sure he'll come around. Everything will go back to normal."

Hermione noted the extra stress on his last words as if they needed to be convincing because she would not believe them. Or because he did not.

She gave Harry a grateful smile, which faltered quickly as she remembered Ginny. "What about Ginny, Harry?"

Er...Well, uh, she's still angry about what happened, Hermione. You'd do better to focus on reconciling with Ron first. He's still so miserable, and Ginny won't see past that."

"Harry, she's your girlfriend. Couldn't you..."

This time Harry interrupted, "No, Hermione. You know what a little spit-fire she is." His eyes reflected both his pride in his girlfriend and the sympathy which he hoped would assuage Hermione. "She thinks you used Ron as a crux to get through the end of the war and the aftermath. She doesn't understand."

Hermione bit down on her lip. "Right. She doesn't understand that I still love Ron. I've always loved him. He's closer than family. It's just not... not..." She trailed off, too exasperated to speak. Harry took her hand.

"Don't worry about her right now."

Hermione sighed in disappointment. At least Harry was her friend again.

Harry stayed a little while longer and managed to convince her to play a game of Exploding Snap with him. She listened with interest as he talked a lot about his Auror training. In turn, she told him a little bit about her Potions apprenticeship...leaving out the details of her accomplishment in making such a high-grade batch of the Draught of Living Death. Somehow, that felt too personal to share. She was sure Severus felt the same way, which was why he only taught the standard curriculum to his students.

Searching for something else to say, she told Harry about the new Azkaban security system. Since his job entailed catching dark wizards and escorting them to Azkaban, he had already heard about it. Hermione was able to fill him in on the details, explaining the characteristics of the flames and that she and Snape would be preparing the potions. Strange how this kept happening...normally she gushed out more details to Harry and Ron than they probably wanted to hear...but, she left out the whole story of their little jaunt to collect the old potion bottles. It made her flush to even think of that adventure.

Harry asked her several questions about the flames and the efficiency of the magic. His smile reflected how satisfied he was, but it was disconcerting when paired with the bitter anger in his eyes. "Scrimgeour has asked me to endorse their plan in the official press release. I'm attending the Wizengamot hearing tomorrow while they write up the legislation and then vote to sign it into law."

"Do you think any one will vote against it?" Hermione poured them each another cup of the tea she had served earlier in their conversations.

"No, I doubt it. Everyone is eager to see those bastards locked up for good and to never have to worry about them breaking free. If I had the chance, I'd cast the Black Flame myself."

Hermione grinned. "Then, you'd be helping Severus do it."

"Severus?" Harry's eyebrows shot up.

"Yes, what did you expect? That I'd still call him 'professor' when I am a teacher too?" She rolled her eyes when the look on his face told her he had never considered it.

"Well, have fun with that," Harry said. "I'll stick to calling him a 'fucking arse.'"

Hermione sighed heavily. She never bothered to lecture Harry anymore about what he thought of Severus Snape. Harry seemed to need someone to hate, someone to blame. It hurt her that he felt that way. But how could she help Harry heal the wounds of his past?

"Just keep an eye out on Snape for me. Make sure he doesn't try anything funny with those potions."

And sometimes Harry was a bit extreme. "Harry! Honestly! He would never deliberately alter the potions, and you should very well know that he would take exquisite care in ensuring their perfection!"

Harry shrugged indifferently. "Snape is anything but what you see is what you get. I'm sorry you have to work with him this year. You'll let me know if that git disrespects you at all? You're a teacher now too, and he had better not keep treating you like he did when we were at school."

Yes, Harry really loathed Severus and not entirely without good reason. But it was so wrong and unnecessary. She wished more people could see the side of him that she had seen lately.

Hermione smiled to herself. She had found a new project. Severus deserved to have Harry acknowledge the great things he did to help him over the years. Harry deserved to have Severus recognize his individuality and his own achievements. Besides, she wanted her friends to accept Severus Snape. Hopeless as it was for them to have any relationship other than one of business, it could not be helped. She could not abate the desire that coursed through her for that enigma of a man. Not now that she had seen it and felt it for what it was.

Perhaps she should make another project out of getting Severus Snape to take an equal interest in her. Inwardly laughing it off, Hermione knew she would not let the idea take hold. She would not get carried away by something so fanciful. But she suddenly imagined a scene that came to her like some long forgotten dream. Severus Snape, his eyes blazing with intensity, sweeping down to kiss her so passionately...

Thank you to my readers. I really appreciate your reviews.

And thanks go to my beta, Moon Revel and to EleanorRigby for her helpful feedback on this story.