Chapter Four

Severus was just finishing dinner preparations when he heard the Floo activate. Slipping his wand into his sleeve, he stepped into the living room to see Hermione standing stiffly in front of his fireplace. As she had been fine when he'd left her several hours before, he was shocked to see her face blotchy and red, her hands covered in thick bandages, and she was holding a large box.

"Hermione, what on earth happened to you?" He hurried to her and took the box from her, setting it on the floor before lifting her hands to examine the wrappings.

She took a shuddering breath and offered him a tremulous smile. "Remember that new direction I was talking about today? Well, it appears I'll be moving in it sooner rather than later. I've quit my job, Severus."

He glanced into the box; it was full of miniaturized books, the same books which had graced the shelves of her office that afternoon.

"Somehow I doubt you did that by packing your books." Severus gestured to her hands. "So why don't you come sit down in the kitchen. You can tell me what happened while I finish dinner."

All the tension seemed to flow out of Hermione as he led her back to the welcoming kitchen. Severus pulled a chair away from his scrubbed oak farm table and waited while she settled into it. "I was going to serve a nice Riesling with the chicken. Would you like me to pour you a glass, or would you like something stronger?"

"The wine would be lovely. Thank you, Severus." Hermione crossed her arms on the tabletop and laid her head down for a moment.

Severus brought the wine to her and lightly ran his hand down the length of her hair. "Would you like to tell me about it?"

She heaved a sigh and lifted her head. "I'm not sure there's much to tell." She reached for her wineglass with both hands and took a deep draught from it. "After you left, I sorted through my inbox. There were several pieces of personal correspondence, but I set them aside to deal with later. Most of what you saw was paperwork relating to the rather urgent issue I mentioned earlier, and I knew that it needed to be completed today."

Hermione took another sip of her wine, but the bandages made her hands clumsy, and she fumbled the glass. Her eyes filled with tears of frustration as Severus drew his wand and quickly dealt with the mess. Summoning the bottle, he poured her some more.

Her downtrodden expression made him ache to hold her, but he knew that her need to talk was more urgent than his need to comfort her. He compromised by gently brushing her hair back from her face, smiling when she leaned into the caress and sighed a little before continuing.

"Dealing with that took most of the afternoon, and I was actually tidying up my office when I remembered the rest of the mail. There was a note from Ron – the Department of Magical Games and Sports sent him to Bulgaria to get a head start on planning the next World Cup – he wanted to tell me he ran into Viktor while he was there. Then I got a sheet of material swatches from Ginny. She's trying to decide on the color of the bridesmaid dresses and wanted my opinion." Hermione laughed lightly. "I swear she and Harry can't get married quickly enough for me. I've had to give my opinion on everything from music to cakes to personalized vows. Obviously, since she's got time to do wedding planning at work, they need more to do down in the Office of Experimental Charms."

Waving her hands in the air, she continued. "These are courtesy of the last thing I opened. An envelope full of Bubotuber pus and a letter full of insane ranting."

Severus fought back the urge to hit something; instead, he drew his wand and pointed toward a cabinet above the sink. "Accio Murtlap Essence!" He turned toward another cabinet and Summoned a large bowl. "I keep Murtlap Essence on hand in case of kitchen accidents. I brew it with a tisane; it speeds the natural healing properties of the Murtlap and increases the analgesic effect."

His voice was clipped, though not unkind, but Hermione knew he was angry. "This is not your fault, Severus." She watched as he poured the yellow liquid into the bowl. "The letter made it clear I am their target, and it said the editorial was just the beginning. They wrote that I make a habit of ruining people's lives and as a Death Eater Whore I should be punished. Apparently they're infuriated at the Wizengamot's lack of action against me; and they've decided it was up to someone else to teach me a lesson."

Severus remained silent and reached for her hands, tenderly loosening the wrappings. The muscles in his jaw worked, and his eyes grew stormy as he uncovered her raw flesh, covered in oozing pustules. The gentleness of his touch was quite at odds with the black expression on his face.

Hermione sighed with relief as he eased her hands into the bowl; the liquid felt cool on her swollen and irritated skin. "That feels so much better. I should have taken care of it myself, but I just rinsed off the pus with a quick Aguamenti."

"As you know, all outside mail is screened, so I know this," Hermione nodded at her hands, "is the work of someone at the Ministry. I was furious and stormed down to Mr. Anciano's office to complain. As my supervisor, I was sure he would be incensed that someone used the inter-office mail system to send threatening letters."

Severus watched as she examined her hands, pleased to see that the swelling was already markedly reduced. "I suppose, from your tone, he didn't react the way you expected?"

"Hardly!" Hermione snorted. "He had the audacity to look down his nose at me and tell me that if I focused more on my job and less on 'gadding about,' then perhaps I would have fewer inter-office conflicts. This from a man who couldn't find his arse with both hands and a map!" She gritted her teeth and practically growled. "Mark my words, Severus, without me he'll have that department run into the ground inside a week! Good riddance to him. I went back to my office, dictated a letter tendering my resignation as of end of business today, packed my office, and here I am." She let out a huge sigh. "Maybe it's better this way. Now I don't feel guilty about leaving them to flounder around without me."

"I do not think he should have the chance to run the department into the ground," Severus spat out. "His dismissal of your harassment is actionable. I urge you to report him.

He watched her capture her lower lip between her teeth. "Hermione, I know your opinion was that we should just ignore the editorial. But in light of this letter, and the implied threat of further action, we must go on the offensive." Severus paced to the stove with his usual grace, his heightened emotions seen only in the slight unsteadiness of his hands as he prepared their plates. "We must do whatever necessary to discover their identity. I've given up too much of my life to violence; I will not have you harmed." Severus looked over his shoulder at her, cold anger burning in his black eyes. "I may be a former Death Eater, but there are no lengths to which I won't go to protect those I care about."

Hermione knew better than to be stunned by his vehemence, but her heart swelled at this evidence of his feelings for her. She withdrew her much improved hands from the bowl – drying them carefully on the towel he'd set out for her – before moving to his side to lean up and kiss his cheek. "My opinion has changed, Severus," she said affectionately, "and while I think that we should avoid casting any Unforgivables just yet, I do have a suggestion, one with the added advantage of your not receiving another summons to visit with the Wizengamot." Hermione took their plates and returned to the table. "I would like to use your Floo to call Neville and accept the position he offered me. And then, if you don't object, I thought I'd call Harry."

"Potter?" Severus spun away from the stove to gape at her. "Why are you going to call him?" Though he and The-Boy-Who-Lived-to-Annoy-the-Hell-Out-of-Him had managed to put aside a great deal of their enmity, they would never be friends.

Harry and Ron had both been recovering in St. Mungo's when Hermione had offered to be Severus' Probational Monitor. Though she'd never said so, he was sure that, upon their recovery, there had been a flaming row full of screaming (Harry), thrown objects (Ron), and demands that they mind their own business (Hermione). But in the end, Harry and Ron had mostly come to terms with the fact that Hermione had never been one to be coddled and protected by them. They could either accept her current madness, or they could walk away from a friendship which had spanned seven years and a war. They chose the former, and in the few instances Severus had the pleasure of being in their company, he'd been given the same kind of odd consideration he imagined they had bestowed on all her pet projects.

Severus recalled her house-elf campaign and shuddered. He'd often wondered what strange acronym she would have come up with had the Wizengamot not chosen 'Probational Monitoring.' Since the only thing he'd been able to come up with was Program for Imperioed and Manipulated Persons, he was rather pleased with the Wizengamot's choice, as he had no desire to be a P.I.M.P. Though, perhaps if he had a cane like Lucius–

"I know you like to scoff at his change of career, but it makes him happy, and maybe he can help us." Hermione's voice finally roused Severus from contemplation of his life as a P.I.M.P.

"Don't be ridiculous, Hermione!" Severus refused to wince when she narrowed her eyes and glared at him. "Mr. Potter is your friend. The last thing you should be doing is encouraging him in this madness."

"There is no reason NOT to encourage him!" Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, gingerly tucking in her hands. "I think his experience as an Auror, his connections at the Ministry and his name alone will be beneficial." She chewed on her lip a moment before adding sheepishly, "At least it will probably help us in this case. Besides, just because you've never heard of a Magical Private Investigator, there's no reason to think it's not a good idea!"

"I do think it's a good idea!" Severus brought the plates to the table and set them down, taking his own seat. "For a children's book."

He grinned when she burst into laughter, but sobered quickly. "I do not object to you asking Potter to look into it. However, I would like it understood that should he fail to discover the culprit, I will use my own methods to do so. I would also prefer that we make an official report with the MLE." He picked up his fork and gestured to their plates. "Now if you could please let me enjoy my meal without further discussions of Potter's delusions of grandeur, I will allow you to use my Floo after dinner. You can make your calls while I clean up. It's obvious that you will be useless with those hands."

Hermione tilted her chin and batted her eyes coquettishly. "Be careful, Severus. You're in danger of turning my head with all your flattery."

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Hermione had decided to get the call to Harry out of the way first. He'd been outraged by her attack and worried for her, asking her repeatedly if she was alright. When she'd assured him that she was fine and explained what she wanted, he'd eagerly leapt at the chance to help her. She'd moved on to Neville and was just ending her conversation when Severus came into the room.

"Yes, yes! I said that I'll talk to him about it again, Neville. I believe that I've got him convinced, but if you would just ask him I'm sure..."

Neville's disembodied head shook violently. "No! I don't think he would take it seriously if I came to him. You know that he's always considered me a lost cause. I think that he'll respect me more if he sees me on my own turf." Neville laughed sheepishly. "No pun intended."

Hermione heard Severus enter the room and glanced at him before turning back to the Floo. "I've got to go, Neville, but I'll be in tomorrow to fill out all the paperwork. Thank you for offering me this opportunity. I'll do my best on that other thing."

"See you tomorrow, Hermione." Neville vanished in a whirl of green flames.

"What other thing?" Severus asked idly, taking her elbow to help her up from her position crouched in front of the flames and guiding her to the low couch that he'd transfigured earlier in the day.

Hermione kept her head down, knowing that he was easily able to read her face. "Just some things that Neville wants me to work on, ideas for the company. You know how the wizarding world is. If it hasn't been around for two thousand years, they don't trust it. We're going to have to be creative to gain acceptance for what he's doing."

"What is his company exactly?" Severus let go of her hand as she curled up on the couch and shook her head at his offer of a drink.

"Neville grows hybrid magical plants," Hermione answered as he settled next to her. "You know he's always had a rather green thumb."

Severus stifled a laugh. He hadn't been too far off when he'd pondered Longbottom's career path earlier. "I'm not sure how this is going to be a challenging position for you, managing a greenhouse?"

Hermione's gaze slid away from him for a moment. "Several of the new strains that he's produced have caused some excitement in the medical field. He's been getting a lot of attention and offers to buy his stock, but he wants to work on developing the applications himself." Hermione shrugged and smiled. "I'm simply getting in on the ground floor to help him realize his vision."

"Will it make you happy?" Severus asked her, reaching for her hands and sliding his thumbs over her palms, thrilled to see that they were almost completely back to normal.

Her breath quickened and she shifted closer to him. "Not as happy as other things would make me."

"I find myself in the unusual position of not quite knowing how to proceed, Hermione." He lifted his free hand to brush her cheek. "I'm a complicated man, something I'm sure you know by now. I have feelings for you, feelings that have caught me unaware. I was prepared to be noble," he smiled ruefully, "and deny myself the chance to act on them in order to protect your reputation and your job. But in the space of a week, you've managed to remove most of the obstacles that I imagined were between us."

Hermione's eyes were soft as she leaned into his hand. "I'm not looking for uncomplicated, Severus. I know exactly what kind of man you are."

"The problem is that I'm not sure how we go from being just friends to being something more." He slid his hand into the heavy weight of her hair, cupping the back of her head. "But I think it might be something like this," he murmured as he lowered his lips to hers.