20- Dinner with the Grangers

Standard Disclaimer applies.

Chapter 20- Dinner with the Grangers

Friday afternoon found Snape in his quarters, staring thoughtfully into his wardrobe. Slowly, he reached in and produced a small black leather travelling bag, which he tossed onto his bed.

All right. Muggle clothes. I haven't worn these in a long time. I hope they're still acceptable. He opened a drawer within the wardrobe and pulled out the clothing. He pondered the bundle as he turned and laid it beside the bag. This will serve for the trip there and for the tour tomorrow morning. I really don't know what would be considered appropriate for the theatre, but I can always transfigure these items into something different if necessary. That just leaves tonight, when we return from the play...

His face settled into a distinctly uncomfortable expression. Even in the privacy of his own rooms, he felt the colour rising to stain his cheeks. Bollocks! I don't have nightclothes! But that certainly would not be appropriate where I'll be staying... He ran his hand through his hair agitatedly. Distractedly glancing about the room, he noticed the gleam of green on the shelf in his wardrobe. Relieved, he pounced on it. Exactly! I have my lounge wear here in case I'm awakened, but it will serve as nightclothes in this case. Perfect...

Satisfied, he carefully folded his satin trousers and short robe and placed them in the bag. Glancing at the time, he saw that he had about 15 minutes before he had to meet Hermione in the Entrance Hall. Exhaling forcefully, he stalked into his bathroom and gathered his toiletries, all but throwing them into his travel bag. Stone-faced, he quickly changed into his Muggle clothing and reached for his cloak. But, as he shook his cloak out to put it on, he paused, eyeing it.

Muggles don't generally wear these... Sighing, he hung it up and reached into the recesses of his wardrobe again. He pulled the Muggle coat out and shook it, beating the dust and cobwebs off it. Hissing exasperatedly to himself, he pulled out his wand and cast Scourgify on it. Grunting, he shrugged into it and closed his bag. Pointing his wand at the bag, he shrank it to palm size and pocketed it. With a final glance in the mirror on his way out, he shook his hair forward and scowled at his reflection. Feeling conspicuous and uncomfortable in his Muggle clothes, he grumbled to himself as he swept out of his quarters, "Not a word. I better not hear anyone say anything!" Decidedly disgruntled, he stomped up the dungeon stairs toward the Entrance Hall, feeling as if he were marching to battle.

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

Far above, in Gryffindor Tower, Hermione was packing as well. She was already wearing Muggle clothes, as she always did once classes were over for the week. She knew it was a healthy walk to the Apparition point, so she dressed warmly in jeans, a white turtleneck, a beige jumper, and tan leather hiking boots. Her fleece-lined, hooded coat lay beside her overnight bag on her bed.

Whirling into her bathroom, she stopped in the act of gathering her bath products. Actually, I don't need to take all of this. Mum will have everything there. Instead, she turned to the sink and grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste before pausing again and laughing aloud. Honestly! They'll have these too... they're bloody dentists! Still grinning to herself, she tossed her brush into her bag, as well as a few assorted clips, elastics, hair pins, and slides. I have no idea what to do with my hair for the show. Hopefully Mum will help.

Pensively, she turned to her closet. Speaking of the show, I really don't know what to wear. I know it's supposed to be a dressy thing, especially since we're going to be right there in the front, but I don't know what to take! She eyed the scant choices in her closet. Sighing, she plucked out a rather plain silk blouse and a wool skirt. Looking at them discontentedly, she folded them into her bag. I better find shoes to match... She dropped to her knees and dug around in the recesses of her closet. Crookshanks meandered over to see what she was about. He scampered out of her way as she sat back, triumphantly brandishing a pair of plain black pumps. Her hair was mussed from the clothes dragging across her head as she rooted around. Absently pushing her hair out of her eyes with her free hand, she sighed again. Not very pretty, but they'll do.

She chewed her lip as she stowed the shoes in the bag with the rest of her things. Brow creased in thought, she mechanically grabbed knickers, socks, and another long sleeve tee from her dresser. She snatched her deodorant and perfume from the top and threw them onto the bed. Then she opened a drawer to pull out a long nightgown. She regarded it with a discontented expression. It was long white cotton with a small button placket at the neck and short ruffles at the collar, cuffs, and hem. She scowled at it. I need to get new nightclothes. This is positively juvenile! Rolling her eyes, she folded it and packed it.

Mentally reviewing her list, she realized that she'd need hosiery if she were to wear a skirt to the theatre. She dug around in a drawer and pulled out a pair of tights. Wrinkling her nose at them, she thought, I hate wearing these things! They're so uncomfortable, and they always roll at the waist. Her eyes narrowed as she was hit with an inspiration. A slow smile spread across her face as she reached for her wand and transfigured the tights into two stockings and a suspender belt. Much better... She rolled them up and stuck them in a corner of her bag.

Looking around for anything she might have forgotten, she saw the time. Her eyes widened and she gasped as she realized that she was supposed to be in the Entrance Hall in a few minutes. Frantically pulling her coat on, she closed her bag and shrank it. Stuffing it in her pocket, she reached down to scrub Crookshanks, assuring him she'd be back the next day. She raced out of her room and rushed down the corridor, barrelling trough the common room. As she hurtled in, she spied Ginny reading before the fire. Ginny looked up, surprised at Hermione's abrupt entrance. Then, the redhead glanced at the time and grimaced.

Hermione flashed her a pained expression and gasped, "I'm running late!"

Ginny rolled her eyes and yelled, "I know! Have fun... at least, have as much fun as you can!" She shot Hermione a sympathetic look and waved lightly.

Hermione scrambled through the portrait hole and spun to shout back, "I'll try!" before waving and slamming the portrait shut behind her.

Ginny sat, staring, in the wake of her friend's frenzied departure. Slowly, she shook her head and muttered, "He better be nice to her. Or there'll be hell to pay..." Frowning, she turned back to her book.

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

Snape was in the Entrance Hall, irritably waiting for Hermione to show up. He had frozen any students he had passed with a glacial glare, before coming to rest against the wall beside the huge front doors. He sighed in annoyance that Hermione was late. Scowling blackly down the corridor, he eyed the staircase, waiting to see her.

He didn't have to wait much longer. Bushy hair flying, she came pelting down the stairs, sprinting down the corridor. A few paces from the doors, she looked up and saw him watching her. She skidded to a stop, eyes wide.

Her face was flushed and she was panting from her run. An errant thought that she might look similar in the throes of ecstasy wafted through Snape's brain. Violently clamping down on that line of thought, he straightened and peered down his nose at her, snarling, "No running in the halls. That'll be five points from Gryffindor."

Hermione barely registered his comment, so gobsmacked was she at the sight of him. He had been leaning against the wall, one foot against it, long black hair framing his face. But it was his clothing that stunned her. He was wearing trim black trousers and a snug mock turtleneck cable knit jumper...also black, of course. Add to that ensemble a knee length trench coat, and Hermione felt as if she were meeting a wintry Gothic god.

Snape stared at her, noting that she hadn't even reacted to him taking points from Gryffindor. She was gazing at him, eyes wide with wonder. He glanced around surreptitiously and muttered, "What is the matter, Miss Granger?"

Hermione shivered lightly and blinked, chewing her lip as she looked up at him, abashed. "Nothing, sir." Her eyes raked over him hungrily. "Nothing at all..." she breathed. Snape blinked, taken aback by her reaction. Hermione composed herself with visible effort and said, "I'm sorry I'm late, sir. Shall we go?"

Snape contented himself with a sharp nod of his head and spun on his heel to exit. He pushed the heavy door open and held it, gesturing for her to pass through. Hermione slid past him, thrilling at the close proximity. In silence, they tramped over the brown grass toward the gate. The sun had already set, and the air was chilly, with a light breeze. Hermione pulled her coat closed and stuffed her hands in her pockets. It was cold enough that she could see her breath.

After several minutes, Snape's dry voice caught her attention. "I would assume that you would need to bring some sort of baggage for an overnight visit, but I don't see any. Did you not pack?"

Hermione pulled her shrunken bag from her pocket and presented it with a flourish. "Shrinking spells are elementary. Why should I not use one for ease of transport? I'm assuming you did the same..."

Snape cut a glance at her and quirked an eyebrow in response. Hermione smirked. They walked in silence again. After a few more minutes, Hermione took a deep breath and murmured, "I'm looking forward to tonight. I know you'll enjoy the play..." She cast a sheepish glance at him, knowing he'd pick up what she hadn't said.

Snape snorted and said, "What? Do you not expect me to enjoy meeting your parents?" He tried to hide his anxiety with a derisive tone, but he knew he hadn't succeeded when Hermione gazed at him sympathetically.

Grimly, he continued, "Shouldn't you be more worried that they may not enjoy meeting me?"

They had reached the gate. Passing through it, Snape walked to a clearing to one side of the path. As he stopped and turned to Hermione, she saw his sour expression. Stepping close to him, she laid her hand against his arm and squeezed gently. He looked down into her eyes. In the moonlight, he could see the affection and caring glinting in the brown depths. He slid his gaze away, sullen.

Hermione looked around. Finally, she looked back up at him and whispered, "Severus." Snape whipped his head back to peer down at her. A tender smile played on her lips. Hermione slid her hand from his arm to his chest, holding it above his heart. She held his gaze and murmured, "I'm not worried about them. They'll undoubtedly be impressed by you. They don't have much contact with wizards, and you're a war hero as well as a respected professor. I just hope they don't embarrass me and irritate you." She looked down, sheepish. When she looked back up at him, she tilted her head to the side and said, her voice throaty and rippling with emotion, "You look wonderful, by the way. I wanted to tell you that in the castle, but I knew I couldn't. You really are quite fetching in Muggle clothes..." She twinkled up at him.

Snape's throat and chest felt tight. He didn't know how to respond to her. After a moment or two of simply gazing at her, he cleared his throat and rumbled, "We need to leave. Visualize where we need to Apparate to and I will view it in your mind. Once I have it, I will cast a concealment charm. Are you ready?"

Hermione licked her lips and sighed. Composing herself, she concentrated on her front step and said, "Ready."

Snape muttered, "Legilimens," and pierced into her mind. Hermione felt the breeze in her head that bespoke his presence and focused on the image of her front step. But, as she felt him withdrawing, she couldn't resist flashing up her first sight of him in the Entrance Hall, dark and brooding and oh-so-sexy, accompanied by her instantaneous response to him. She heard his startled intake of breath at the images and sensations and he stared at her, stunned. She turned mock-innocent eyes to him and watched him squint at her speculatively. He held his wand out to encompass them both and cast the concealment charm. Hermione watched him shimmer and fade out, concealed from her view. She glanced down and saw herself, fuzzy, like she was out of focus. Out of the darkness, she heard Snape's voice.

"You will need to take hold of my hand. We must be in contact to Apparate together. Reach out to take my hand."

Hermione reached out and collided with his hand. As soon as he had wrapped his long, warm fingers around hers, she stepped forward, judging his location by where he had been when he disappeared, and by where his hand was holding hers. She felt herself run into him, and ignored his startled exclamation as she released his hand in favour of wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek against his hard chest.

Snape froze, unable to even form words to scold her. He knew they were completely hidden from view, and she couldn't even see him. He couldn't see her either. All he could do was feel her soft warm body pressed against his, and her arms wrapped around him. Safe in the knowledge that she wouldn't be able to catch him, he allowed himself the luxury of letting the bliss he felt show on his face. His expression was soft and peaceful for a fleeting moment before he sighed and Apparated to the Grangers' house.

Hermione jumped as they landed on her front step. She gazed about her, looking along the street. Reluctantly slipping from his lean frame, she grazed her hand down his arm until she could twine her fingers in his. She was intent on finding a place to become visible and missed the tiny sigh that escaped Snape's lips. Stepping down, she tugged on his hand.

"Come on, this way. We can step between the houses here and become visible in the shadows. No one will see us that way."

Snape followed her, guided by the invisible hand in his. When they were ensconced in the shadows, he cast the reversal charm and they shimmered into sight again. As soon as she could see him, Hermione looked up into Snape's face, hoping he wasn't angry with her. His face was cloaked in the shadows, however, and she couldn't see his expression. With a gentle squeeze, Snape untangled his hand from hers and tilted his head toward her house. She sighed and nodded, turning to lead the way.

She stepped up to the door and rang the bell. A moment later, the door was flung open by a smiling man wiping his hands on a dishtowel.

Her father. Mr. Granger.

Snape stood impassively as he watched the man crow, "Hermione!" and engulf his daughter in a hug, lifting her off her feet and spinning her in the doorway.

Hermione laughed delightedly, shrieking, "Da-a-ad!"

Snape eyed the man intently, sizing him up. He was a few inches shorter than Snape, but still several inches taller than his petite daughter. His hair was thinning on top, but it was a similar brown to Hermione's. He was in good shape, only a little soft about the middle. He put Hermione down and looked at Snape. Smiling cheerfully, he gestured through the open door and nodded to Snape.

"Come in, come in! I apologize. I got a little over-excited. Haven't seen my girl in a while..." Hermione was shrugging off her coat and hanging it in the small closet to one side. Before Snape could think of an appropriate response, the man snapped his fingers and pointed at Snape. "That's right; where are my manners? Can I take your coat for you? Professor Snape, isn't it?" He stretched his hands out for Snape to give him his coat. Snape was blankly slipping out of his coat, about to respond, when they were all distracted by a woman rushing into the foyer. She was beaming as much as Hermione was as she bustled over to embrace her daughter.

"Hermione! It's so good to have you home!"

"Hi, Mum!" Hermione squealed, vigorously returning her mother's tight hug.

Snape stared at them, owl-eyed, slightly overwhelmed. He absently handed Mr. Granger his coat, gazing at Mrs. Granger. She was a couple of inches taller than her daughter, with blue-grey eyes that sparkled like Hermione's. She was petite, like her daughter, but her hair was a light ash blonde. However, it was also apparent that she was the one from whom Hermione had inherited her unruly locks. Her hair was shoulder-length, but it was wavy and flyaway. Snape glanced between the two adults, noting how clear it was that they had produced Hermione. She was truly a mixture of their features.

Hermione and her mother ended their embrace and they turned to Mr. Granger and Snape. Mr. Granger spoke up. "I was just about to welcome Professor Snape to our home." He hung Snape's coat up and extended his hand toward him. Snape gripped the man's hand firmly, about to speak, when Mr. Granger spoke again. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Geoff Granger, and this is my wife."

Mrs. Granger stepped forward to shake Snape's hand as well, saying, "Welcome. It's so good of you to bring Hermione for this little visit, Professor Snape..."

Snape felt rather desperate and interrupted, with a courtly bow, "Please, call me Severus."

Mrs. Granger's eyebrows shot up and she smiled. "Severus? What a lovely name. Quite unique. My name is Dione, but you can call me Di."

Snape straightened, frowning slightly. "And mutilate such a beautiful name? Certainly not. Dione is a classical name and should be given the respect it deserves." His voice was resonant with the tone of offended sensibilities.

Hermione's mother tilted her head as she regarded him, her hand still clasped in his.

Now I see where Hermione got that trick from...

Bemused, Mrs. Granger murmured, "Yes, I suppose that with a name like yours, you would be familiar with classical names. My family has rather a penchant for uncommon names, as is no doubt obvious with our Hermione, here. Do you know the story of my name?" She gazed at him, a playful smile on her lips.

Snape actually smiled, modestly. "Indeed, madam, I do. Dione means 'divine queen,' and she is said to have borne a child by Zeus. Her child is Aphrodite, the goddess of love..." He trailed off, suddenly disconcerted, seeing her daughter off to the side, twinkling delightedly at him. Hastily manufacturing a polite smile again, he bowed and released her hand. "The headmaster and I would like to express our appreciation for your hospitality." He included Mr. Granger in his gaze.

Both Mr. and Mrs. Granger instantly began offering protestations, claiming it was nothing. Hermione edged between them and cleared her throat. "Um, Mum, Dad, what's for dinner?" She smiled at the equally surprised looks of dismay they exchanged. "And, can we get out of the foyer?"

Mrs. Granger squeaked, "Dinner!" and sped away to the kitchen. Hermione giggled as she looked at Snape's astonished expression.

Mr. Granger hastily said, "Of course, of course, where are my manners? Forgive me. Hermione, why don't you show your professor to the guest room and freshen up for dinner while I help your mum?" He patted Hermione on the shoulder and pointed toward the stairs. Smiling and nodding at Snape, he turned and hurried after his wife.

Snape gazed after his retreating form blankly. He was distracted by a giggle from Hermione and turned to see her twinkling up at him. Grinning impishly, she tilted her head toward the stairs and said, "Come on. The guest room's up here." She jauntily mounted the stairs, glancing back to see Snape following her absently.

They reached the top of the stairs and started down the hallway. Hermione spun and pointed to the door to her left. "This is the guest room." Then, she pointed to the door on her right. "This is my room." She glanced up at him coyly. Her eyebrow quirked. In a low voice, she drawled, "Try not to get confused..."

Snape arched one eyebrow back at her, reprimanding her for her implication, somewhat taken aback by her audacity. Hermione whirled again and continued down the hall. She gestured toward another door. "This is the bathroom. And across here is the laundry. My folks' room is at the end of the hall." She strode back to him and opened the door to the guest room, waving him into it.

Snape stepped inside, glancing about. The room was comfortable, with a queen size bed dominating the centre of it. On each side there were nightstands, with matching lamps, and a bureau stood against the wall at the foot of the bed. The back wall had a large window, with a set of shelves under it, and a closet door was to the left of the bureau. The room was decorated in a simple colour scheme of earth tones. The carpet was a dusty beige, and the walls were a creamy yellow tint. The lampshades matched the curtains and the bedclothes, which were a stylized print of foliage in varied greens and browns, with lighter cream tones. There was a clock radio on one nightstand, its numbers glowing red.

Snape slowly glided to the bed, reaching into his pocket and fishing out his shrunken bag. He waved his wand at it and restored it to its normal size. Hermione stood in the doorway watching him. Suddenly disconcerted by his presence in a bedroom in her house, she stammered, "Uh, I'll go... put my things away," and retreated across the hall to her room.

Snape idly turned to see her disappear. He briskly put his things in the drawer of the bureau, stowing his bag in the closet. Then, curiosity got the better of him, and he silently sidled across the hall to peer into Hermione's room. He was momentarily struck dumb by what he saw.

Hermione was halfway in her closet, hanging her clothes. She didn't notice Snape goggling at her decorations. The carpet was of varied shades of pink, and the walls were bright white, with a painted border of vines and flowers. There was a canopy bed, full size, with a ruffled canopy and bedspread in pink and white flowers. Her furniture was all white, and she even had ruffled curtains in the window. Her walls were covered with shelves. Those shelves were full of books...of course...and childhood memorabilia. There were dolls and pictures and figurines...quite a few of them were unicorns, he noted...and stuffed animals. Around the mirror at her vanity, there were photos of Hermione at various ages. He noticed one in particular of her in her Hogwarts robes, grinning toothily for the camera. He realized that they weren't wizard photos, as they were all still.

Hermione backed out of her closet and turned, gasping as she saw Snape in her doorway. She began blushing furiously, embarrassed by the look on his face. Defensively, she stammered, "I-It's the same as it was when I was a child. I'm not here much anymore, so I haven't taken the time to change things."

Snape grimaced, trying to hold in a horribly rude bark of laughter. With effort, he rasped, "Of course."

Hermione tilted her chin up defiantly. Snape's eyes were inexorably drawn back to the picture of her in her Hogwarts robes. Pointing his chin at it, he rumbled, "Now that I recognize..." Hermione flicked a glance at the photo.

"That was taken the day before I went to Hogwarts the first year."

Snape stepped closer to it, peering at it pensively. In a low voice, he mused, "You were such a little girl..." Then, he shot a glance around the frilly room and came to rest on Hermione, who was gazing at him warily. His expression darkened. "You still are." Hermione's eyes widened in indignation. She drew herself up to her full height and stomped over to him, her hands on her hips.

"I am not! I'm eighteen, and a legal adult! Don't you dare back away from me now, Severus..."

Snape leapt to the doorway, agitatedly shushing her. Listening hard for any sign of the Grangers, he turned pained eyes on Hermione. In a savage whisper, he hissed, "I am over twice your age! Look around you. I don't fit in here! You and I are too different..."

Hermione closed the gap between them determinedly, firmly shutting her door. Snape's eyes widened in panic. Hermione felt a surge of authority, being on her turf. She glared heatedly at Snape, sternly holding his near-frantic gaze.

"We're not as different as you seem to think. I really don't feel comfortable here either." She turned a chagrined gaze on her room before resolutely looking back at Snape. "As for our ages... how many times do I have to tell you that I am an adult, and as such, I can make my own decisions about my feelings?" Her eyes narrowed calculatingly and a smile hovered on her lips. "I know you heard me talking to Ginny on the stairs. I meant it when I said I don't want a boy. I want a man. And the man I want... is you." She let her feelings blaze out.

Snape was held captive by her intense gaze. His pulse was racing, first out of a rare feeling of panic, and then in a heady response to her words and looks. They remained motionless for several moments, gazes locked together. They were startled out of their reverie by Mr. Granger's voice shouting up the stairs.

"Hermione! Dinner's ready. Bring your professor down."

Hermione reached past Snape and opened her door. Still looking at him, she yelled back, "Sure thing, Dad. We'll be right down!" Quirking an eyebrow at him, she said lightly, "I'm going to wash up for dinner. Care to join me, Professor?"

Snape swallowed thickly. Hermione edged past him and strode to the bathroom, leaving him to slink out of her bedroom guiltily. He heard the water running as she washed her hands and hesitantly followed her. She popped out of the doorway, rubbing her hands together. "All yours, Professor."

Snape silently watched her as she passed him, then he entered the bathroom. Idly noting the seashell motif, he washed his hands thoroughly, eyeing his morose reflection. Reconstructing his detached façade, he dried his hands and smoothed his jumper, wrinkling his nose at the lack of his voluminous robes. He always felt vulnerable without them.

He exited the bathroom and saw Hermione waiting for him at the top of the stairs. When she saw him coming, she led the way to the dining room.

Snape suddenly noticed the appetizing aromas filling the house. His sensitive nose identified garlic, onion, pepper...both black and cayenne, saffron...he was surprised at that one, and a certain salty tang that he couldn't quite identify. Then he recognized the rich scent of seafood.

Hermione guided him to a seat on one side of the table, moving to sit opposite him. He was gazing at the china, the flatware, the tumblers, everything. Mr. Granger bustled in, placing a bowl of saffron rice with broccoli and cauliflower on a trivet. He immediately exited into the kitchen again, this time returning with a dish of sautéed shrimp and scallops, glistening in a roux of butter and seasonings. Mrs. Granger followed him, bearing a frosty pitcher of water, from which she filled the tumblers at each setting. Mr. Granger made a third trip, returning with a basket of flat pocket bread and a bowl of figs and apricots.

Hermione gave a little squeal of excitement and bounced in her seat. "Mum! Dad! You made my favourite! Thank you!" She beamed at her parents, who smiled fondly at her.

Mr. Granger retorted, "Of course! Why shouldn't we have your favourite? It just wouldn't do to not celebrate our girl coming home again!"

Mrs. Granger murmured assent before asking, "Severus, would you like tea as well as ice water?"

Snape turned a blank expression on her, startled by the use of his given name, even though he had entreated her to use it. "If you are already making tea, I would be pleased to partake of a cup, but if not, don't go to any trouble on my account."

Mrs. Granger twinkled at him and said sweetly, "Not at all! I'll go start a kettle heating right now." She strode back into the kitchen briskly.

Hermione was helping her father serve the food onto the plates, but she glanced at Snape and called after her mother, "As long as we have honey and lemon too!"

Mrs. Granger's voice floated out to them. "Of course, dear. We do."

Snape blinked, stoically keeping his face impassive, as Hermione brashly winked at him from behind her father. He glared at her sternly. She glared back, unabashed. Wearily, Snape closed his eyes, wondering what on earth he had got himself into.

He snapped his eyes open again at Mr. Granger's question. "Severus, how much would you like? Is this good?" He ladled a heaping serving of shellfish onto the plate beside a mound of saffron rice.

Hastily, Snape answered, "Yes, yes, that's plenty."

Mr. Granger snorted to himself and shook his head good-naturedly. He added another dollop to Snape's plate, murmuring, "Come now, we don't stand on ceremony here. You're quite a tall drink of water; surely you can stand a bit more." He smiled as he added two pieces of flat bread to the plate and handed it back to Snape.

Snape eyed the heaping plate warily. Gods, I hope it's good. Otherwise, they'll surely be offended.

Mrs. Granger reappeared and took her plate from her husband. "Thank you, love." Finally, as everyone was served and seated, Mrs. Granger picked up her glass and beamed at everyone impartially. "I'd like to propose a toast." Everyone raised their glasses to hers. "To Hogwarts' headmaster, for allowing Severus to bring Hermione for this lovely visit. And to Severus, for taking such good care of our girl on the way."

Hermione's eyes sparkled over the rim of her glass as she murmured, "Cheers," and drank to the toasts. Snape tried his best to look indifferent, but felt the heat rising in his cheeks.

Mumbling, "Cheers," he gulped the cold water, sending a shock to his system. Sheepishly eyeing his plate, he gingerly took a bite of the shrimp. His brow furrowed and he looked up at Mrs. Granger. "Dione, this is wonderful. What's in it? I can smell garlic, onion, and pepper, but there's something else..."

Mrs. Granger flushed prettily at the compliment and said, "Oh, it's a little something I picked up in the United States on holiday. It's called Old Bay Seasoning, and it has some mustard, red pepper, salt, and paprika. It's used for cooking seafood along the southern coast, and I loved it. So, I bought some to take home. I'm glad you like it. This is one of Hermione's favourite meals." She turned a fond look on her daughter, who was blissfully chewing, unable to speak because her mouth was full.

Snape took another bite, followed by a bit of the rice. He smiled faintly. "I can see why. It's truly delicious." Hermione nodded from across the table.

Mr. Granger was stuffing a piece of pocket bread with rice and shrimp. He nodded toward Snape and commented, "So, Severus. It's good to finally meet you after hearing about you all these years." He flicked a sly glance at Hermione, who was suddenly chewing frantically, trying to clear her mouth to stop whatever her father was about to say.

Snape glanced at her thoughtfully. "Oh?" he said, politely turning his attention to her father as he continued steadily eating.

Mr. Granger smiled mischievously. "Oh, yes. Though I must say that the things we heard weren't very complimentary at first."

Mrs. Granger cut in, her voice rippling with laughter. "Now dear, don't exaggerate. Really, Severus, we only heard the normal complaints that you were very strict and demanding..."

Mr. Granger chuckled and interrupted her. "Of course, those are the diplomatic terms for them..." Snape shot an amused look at Hermione, who was hiding her flushed face behind one hand, her fork drooping listlessly onto her plate.

Plaintively, she growled, "Da-a-ad! Please!"

Mr. Granger blithely patted her shoulder and chuckled again. "Oh, come on. I'm just teasing. Actually, every time she may have said something that could be construed as a complaint, she always followed up with a comment on how good you were at what you do." Snape's eyebrows rose to his hairline.

Bemused, he drawled, "Really? How astounding."

Mrs. Granger waved her hand airily. "Oh, yes. You should have heard her reaming Harry and Ron sometimes when they called you names. That's our girl, nothing if not fair. She wouldn't stand to hear them trash you and always went on about how hard you work and how selfless you were in your work during the war."

Hermione wished that a hole would conveniently open in the floor beneath her chair and suck her out of sight. She was writhing in embarrassment. Still, she tried to put on a good face and forced herself to eat.

Snape was enjoying her moment of discomfort. It seemed to put them back on a level playing field. His black eyes crackled with suppressed mirth.

Mr. Granger cleared his throat and added, "Mmm, speaking of the war, she told us about how magnificent you were in the Final Battle, protecting them to the end. She told us all about how you were a double agent, spying. She says that if it weren't for you, the good side might not have won."

Snape felt the amusement drain out of him, and his food seemed to stick in his throat. He swallowed forcefully and gazed across the table at Hermione. In an unconscious gesture, he rubbed his forearm where the scar of the Dark Mark lay. Soberly, he said, "I did what I had to do. It was the least I could do to pay back all I owe Dumbledore."

Hermione gazed at him wistfully. "You may say that, but not many people would have done the same in your place. Accept it, Professor, you're a hero."

Mrs. Granger tilted her head again, eyes sparkling at Snape. Enchanted, she drawled, "I've never met a hero before." Her voice was lilting and playfully teasing. Snape blinked, taken aback, and gazed blankly at Mrs. Granger. Completely unsure how to handle her comment, he flicked his eyes around the room sheepishly, writhing at the heat rising in his face.

Hermione was torn between enjoying Snape's embarrassment and being disturbed that her mother seemed to be flirting with him. She noticed him glancing at her with a look like a cornered animal. In an attempt to rescue him, Hermione turned her attention to her father.

"Um, Dad, remember the last owl I sent you?" Mr. Granger looked at her, and Snape heaved a silent sigh of relief to have the subject changed. Mrs. Granger looked expectantly between her husband and her daughter. "Did you find a picture of the theatre so we can get there?"

Mr. Granger swallowed hastily and nodded. "Yes. I bookmarked it on the computer."

Snape's brow furrowed. He didn't understand the terminology. Mrs. Granger patted Snape's arm and leant toward him with a confidential air. "Wizards don't have computers, do they?" She continued without even waiting for an answer. "I say, it's so fascinating to hear Hermione talk about all the differences between our world and yours. I always thought it was all a fantasy... then to find out it's all real!" She sighed dreamily. "We haven't met very many adult wizards or witches, except the Weasleys. I must say, it's enchanting to meet you." Suddenly, she stopped short and laughed. "Oh, how ironic! Enchanting!" Her laugh tinkled like bells as she patted Snape's arm again.

Snape forced a faint smile. "Indeed."

Mr. Granger eyed Snape with mock severity. "Hey... You're not bewitching my wife, now, are you?"

Snape's face went white again and his eyes widened. Straightening formally in his seat, he retorted in a dignified tone, "Certainly not! Sir, I would never..."

Mr. Granger's face creased into a grin and he snorted, buffeting Snape's shoulder and cutting his speech short. "Oh, I was just having you on. You know, a bit of fun... And I said before, we don't stand on ceremony here. I'm no 'Sir.' I'm just Geoff."

Snape blinked rapidly as he rasped, "Of course... Geoff." He seemed to wilt a bit in his chair, staring dazedly at his plate.

Hermione was fighting to hold in an unholy shriek of laughter when they were all distracted by a whistle form the kitchen. Seeing a chance for escape, Hermione stood hastily, saying, "That's the kettle. I'll get it."

But her mother stood and placed a firm hand on Hermione's shoulder, saying, "No, you won't. Sit and enjoy your meal." She pushed Hermione back into her seat. Leaning closer, she commented in a stage whisper, "Besides, I don't think it would be fair to leave your poor professor alone with us Muggles. Surely he thinks we're barking mad..." She chuckled as she winked at Hermione and her husband, turning to see Snape's expression of horrified dismay. She laughed again as she waved airily at Snape. "Oh, Severus, I'm just teasing!" Then she turned and swept into the kitchen to prepare the tea.

At this point, even Hermione felt that her parents were a little overwhelming. Shooting a sympathetic glance at Snape, she saw he was looking a little frazzled. She ate a bit more in silence and watched Snape tentatively take a few more bites, eyeing her father warily, as if afraid of what he might say next.

Mrs. Granger bustled in with the tea service, complete with a dish of lemon and a pot of honey. Hermione saw Snape's face twitch, and his eyes relaxed as he caught her eye. She smiled at him.

"Would everyone like a cup?" Mrs. Granger beamed around the table. Mr. Granger and Hermione nodded.

Snape inclined his head gracefully and murmured, "Please."

Mrs. Granger twinkled at him and lilted, "Such nice manners you wizards have. Is that one of the things they teach at school?"

Hermione interrupted, rolling her eyes. "Mum!"

The tea was poured and everyone began preparing it to their liking. In the silence that followed, Mr. Granger seemed to be struck with another idea. Turning to Hermione with a mischievous smile, he asked in a mock-innocent tone, "So, Hermione, have you a boyfriend back at school that we haven't heard about?"

Hermione nearly spat her tea out. Glancing frantically at her parents, who were both smiling at her, she locked eyes with Snape and flushed. He froze, wondering how she would respond. His gaze held hers with a warning.

Hermione looked down, desperately trying to come up with a response. Mrs. Granger reached out and chucked Hermione under the chin, tilting her face back up. "Methinks I see a maidenly blush. Come now, who is it?"

Hermione's eyes flicked inexorably back to Snape, who sat, impassive. Hermione whispered, "There's no one."

Mr. Granger rumbled and said, "We're not blind. It's obvious there's someone, or you wouldn't be blushing so much. Is it anyone we've met?"

Hermione rolled her head back and practically begged, "Dad! Please! Not now..." She flicked another glance at Snape and hung her head.

Mr. Granger looked at Snape and said, "Oh, come on. I'm sure your professor has seen hundreds of young couples over the years. It's a simple question. We're just interested in your life..."

Snape saw his chance and grabbed it. In a stern tone, he cut in, "I believe I understand why Miss Granger is so loath to expound on her... social life."

All eyes snapped to him. Hermione was gazing at him, puzzled. Mrs. Granger raised her eyebrows expectantly and said, "Oh?"

Snape frowned disapprovingly and said, "You see, I happened to come across Miss Granger and her... beau... involved in a less than scholarly activity, for which I was forced to assign a detention."

Hermione's parents looked at her apprehensively as Hermione gazed at Snape, incredulous. Cheeks burning, she glared at him. Savagely, she bit out, "Harry and I were kissing in the corridor after a rehearsal. Professor Snape caught us. I got detention for breaking school rules."

Mrs. Granger repeated, "Harry?" When did you two start going out?"

Hermione gritted her teeth in remembered guilt and annoyance. In a low voice, she answered, "We started seeing each other the day the cast list came out, but it didn't last long. We only dated a few days."

Mr. Granger gazed at his daughter, perplexed. "But you and Harry have been friends for years; what happened? He seems like such a nice boy."

Hermione shot a look at Snape, who managed to rein in his usual derisive sneer at her father's statement. Hermione tilted her chin up defiantly and firmly said, "He is a nice boy, and we're still friends. I realized fairly quickly that we shouldn't be anything more than that. I don't care for him that way." She pinned Snape with a glare. "So, I was telling the truth. There isn't anyone. I don't have a boyfriend."

Her parents exchanged disconcerted glances. Finally, they were the ones who seemed flustered. A strained silence fell. Snape managed to finish the food on his plate and sat back, quite full. He drained his tea and gamely ventured, "Dinner was wonderful, Dione. Thank you for having me."

Mrs. Granger flushed and smiled. "Oh, it was nothing. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Would you care for dessert?"

Snape frowned and waved his hands. "No, thank you. The fruit was quite enough. I couldn't eat another bite." He flashed her a polite smile.

"Well then, perhaps you and Hermione can save dessert for a snack later when you get back from the play. It'll be in the fridge, dear." She nodded to Hermione.

"Thanks, Mum. Speaking of, we should start getting ready for the theatre."

"Yes, yes, of course." Mrs. Granger stood and started gathering dishes. Snape instantly stood.

"May I help?"

Mrs. Granger batted at his outstretched hands and scoffed. "No, indeed! You're our guest! At any rate, Hermione's right. You should get ready for the theatre. Geoff, why don't you go call up that picture while I clear everything away."

"Sure thing, love." Mr. Granger stood and looked at Hermione as his wife disappeared. "So you just need to be able to look at it?"

Hermione glanced at Snape and said, "Actually, Dad, Professor Snape will be the one Apparating us there, so he needs to see it. Sir, why don't you go with my dad and see the picture, and I'll go start getting ready. If you need anything, just knock on my door."

Snape nodded soberly at her, not quite willing to go without her to see this computer thing with her father. Schooling his expression into one of polite attention, he looked to her father, waiting to follow him.

Hermione said, "Thanks, Dad," before she gathered a few more dishes and strode into the kitchen, glancing over her shoulder to see Snape following her father into the den.

Her mother was storing the leftovers in the fridge and scraping plates into the rubbish bin as Hermione entered. She looked up at her daughter and smiled absently. "Thank you, dear. Where are your father and your professor?"

"They're in the den looking up that picture for Professor Snape."

"Oh, good. I say, dear, your professor is rather nice. I find it hard to believe he was ever as bad as you and the boys said."

Hermione smiled and snorted. "He's not so bad after all, but he's much snarkier at school. Trust me on this one..."

Mrs. Granger smirked. "Well, I like him. It's a shame we haven't had a chance to meet your other professors as well. Perhaps when we come to see the play over Easter we'll get to meet them."

"Perhaps..." Hermione thought for a moment and said, "Mum, the theatre is a pretty dressy thing, isn't it?"

Mrs. Granger glanced at Hermione and said, "Well, yes. I suppose you could say that. Why?"

Hermione scowled and said, "I just don't have much choice of dressy things and I brought a blouse and a skirt and pumps. Do you think that'll be okay?" She turned anxious eyes on her mother.

Mrs. Granger dropped her dish towel and grabbed Hermione's hands, her face alight. "Oh! I have just the thing! Come with me. I'm sure you'll look marvellous in it." She laughed giddily and pulled Hermione behind her up the stairs.

"I bought it a few years ago for a formal dinner at one of the dental conventions, and it's perfect for a trip to the theatre. You look like you've grown enough to fit into it." They strode down the hallway to Hermione's parents' room. Mrs. Granger bade Hermione to sit on the bed and disappeared in the closet. Her voice was muffled as she said, "I even have a wrap you can use with it, since it's so formal." She popped out of the closet, holding the dress against her, beaming. "So, what do you think?"

Hermione's face lit up at the sight of it. "Mum, it's perfect! Do you really think it'll fit me?"

Mrs. Granger regarded her daughter with an impatient air. "Dear, who in this room happens to be a very accomplished witch?"

Hermione flushed in chagrin. "Oh... yeah." She stood and stepped toward her mother. "So, can I try it on?"

"Certainly, dear! Go on into the bathroom and change, and we'll see how it fits."

Hermione took the dress into her parent's bathroom and changed. It fit fairly well, but Hermione used her wand to adjust it until it was perfect. Grinning at her reflection, she burst out of the bathroom, twirling to show it off to her mother. Mrs. Granger was sitting on the bed, and she clapped, crowing in delight.

"You look absolutely stunning! You say you have pumps?"

Hermione nodded and waved her wand. "Accio pumps." The black pumps soared into the room and into Hermione's hand. Her mother gaped at her, impressed.

"My, that's convenient!"

Hermione slipped the pumps on. Her mother eyed them critically and frowned. "Hmmm, they don't quite go... Perhaps if they had higher heels, and they were sleeker..." Hermione gazed down at her feet and pursed her lips in thought. After a moment, she pointed her wand at the shoes and transfigured them into a higher heeled, sleeker version. She wavered a bit on her feet as the heels stretched. Glancing up at her mother, she smiled at the satisfied look on her face.

"How's that?"

Her mother smiled conspiratorially at her and nodded. "Perfect!" Then she narrowed her eyes at Hermione and said, "You did bring hose, didn't you? It'd be improper to wear a formal dress without hose."

Hermione nodded. "They're in my room. I'll put them on when I go back." She turned and looked at her reflection again, grinning at what she saw. Then, she scowled. Spinning toward her mother again, she pleaded, "Mum, please help me do something with this hair! I can't very well dress up and let it run rampant as usual..."

Her mother waved her to the seat at the vanity and stepped behind her. "Don't worry, dear. We'll fix you right up. I know just the thing."

She began brushing through Hermione's hair, twisting and coaxing it into submission. After about 15 minutes of intense struggling, and lots of hairpins and styling products, she was finished. Standing back, she surveyed her work in the mirror and smiled.

"There. That's more like it."

Hermione gazed at her reflection in wonder. Heck, she gazed at her mother in awe. Somehow, she had managed to smooth Hermione's hair into an elegant twist. It wrapped in on itself up the back of her head, ending in a pile of cascading curls...not frizz!...at the crown of her head. She had even succeeded in separating a few tendrils to hang from her hairline, framing her face. Hermione grabbed a mirror and used it to see the view from the back as well and sighed in reverent satisfaction. Turning grateful eyes on her mother, she smiled and said, "Mum, you're a lifesaver. Thank you so much! Too bad I can't keep you with me at school to tame this mess for me."

Mrs. Granger laughed. "I've just had decades more practice than you have, dear. You'll get used to it in time. Besides, it's much easier to have someone else do your hair than to do it yourself." Hermione smirked faintly and nodded in agreement. She stood and pondered her reflection in the full-length mirror. Behind her, her mother eyed her thoughtfully. "You know, you really should have something around your neck. It's missing something without some ornamentation. Let me see..." She turned to her jewellery box and began rooting around. After a few speculative glances back at Hermione, she huffed and turned around, holding a choker. It was a black velvet ribbon with a black carved cameo in the centre. She stepped behind Hermione and fastened it around her slim throat. "There. That's better. With your hair up like that and that sort of neckline, a choker fits better than a long chain."

Hermione beamed at her reflection, feeling rather like Cinderella. Impulsively, she spun and enveloped her mother in a tight hug. "Mum, you're the best!" Her mother returned her hug, chuckling.

"It's nothing. I'm just so glad you're here. These are the kinds of things I miss out on since you're away at school." She pulled away and smiled fondly at her daughter. "Now, why don't you go finish getting ready and I'll get that wrap for you. You should probably check on your professor too; we've left him alone with Geoff for a while now."

Hermione nodded, rolling her eyes expressively, and hurried to her room. She hastily put her stockings on and hitched up her skirt to put on the suspender belt. She smiled to herself as she straightened her dress, feeling it play over her silky stockings, slipping across the suspenders. Squinting at her reflection, she made sure that the suspender belt wasn't visible as lumps under her dress. Pleased with the results, she sat at her vanity and applied some subtle makeup, dabbing perfume behind her ears and in her cleavage. She heard a knock at her door, and, thinking it was her mother with the wrap, called, "Come in!"

She heard a startled intake of breath and spun to see Snape in her doorway, gazing at her, dumbstruck. She stood hastily and stepped toward him, slightly flustered. Flushing, she asked, "Is everything okay? What's wrong?"

Snape was transfixed by the vision in front of him. The dress was black velvet, with off-the-shoulder straps that sat on the points of her shoulders, and a sweetheart neckline. The bodice fit snugly, as if it were boned like a corset, accentuating her breasts and slim waist. The skirt was straight and fell to her knees in front and tapered to just below them in the back, with a slit along her right thigh. Her stockings were smoky and had the sheen of silk. Her legs were shapely above her high-heeled shoes, and her slender throat was wrapped with the velvet choker. Long bouncy tendrils of curls draped from her temples against her cheeks, and love locks curled along her hairline above her brow and behind her ears. He was seized with the compulsion to cover her bare shoulders and collarbone with heated kisses, but stayed still.

Snape swallowed thickly and rasped, "Nothing..." He raked her with a smouldering gaze and smirked faintly, adding, "Nothing at all." His eyes locked with hers and she recognized her words being flung back at her. Her heart thumped at the incandescent desire in his eyes.

Resolutely trying to maintain her composure, she prodded, "What did you need?"

Snape's eyes crackled with heat as several things suggested themselves to him, none of which he allowed to come out of his mouth. Hermione saw the play of emotions across his face and felt a tingle wash over her, ending with a throb between her legs. Snape stepped into the room and softly shut the door behind him. Leaning against it, he stared at her, unblinking, as he purred, "You're beautiful."

Hermione's breath caught and she looked down, flushing even more. Shyly peeking up at him through her lashes, she whispered, "Thank you."

Snape raked her with another consuming gaze before he shook himself, sighing deeply with his eyes closed. When he opened them again, she could sense his restraint. In a businesslike tone, he said, "I was coming to ask you what I should wear. I didn't think this would be appropriate, but I wasn't sure what would be." He smiled faintly. "Now that I see you, I have a better idea." He paused, looking over her again. "And, your father showed me the theatre on that...what was it called?"

"Computer," Hermione offered faintly.

"Yes, computer. I have what I need to Apparate us there. We'll follow the same procedure as we did to come here." He paused again, then asked, "Do you have any questions?"

Hermione blinked and looked up at him, owl-eyed. "Um... what are you going to wear?"

Snape straightened and gazed primly down at her, but his eyes flashed with wicked amusement. "I will transfigure something appropriate. We need to leave soon, so I shall go do that very thing." And with a mischievous smirk and a bow, he swept out of her room and across to his. She heard his door close firmly.

Snape leant against his door and sighed deeply. He gazed at the trench coat he had tossed onto the bed as he had come upstairs. Resolutely striding to it, he pulled out his wand and transfigured it. Then he looked at his reflection in the mirror on the closet door and transfigured his trousers and jumper. His trousers were still black, but they matched the material of his coat, and they had satin stripes down the outer seams. His shirt was snow white, with a banded collar and mother of pearl buttons. He slipped into his coat, which was now a knee-length fitted opera trench coat. Its standing mandarin collar framed the top button of his shirt as he buttoned the coat closed, snug across his chest. As he turned to exit the room, the bottom of the coat flared out and whirled, reminding him of his school robes. He smiled, feeling more himself.

That faint smile still hovering on his lips, he once again knocked on Hermione's door. At her response, he opened the door and stepped in, closing it behind him.

Hermione had stood hastily at his knock, and as he entered, she grabbed for the back of the chair, feeling her knees going weak. This time, she was dumbstruck, gaping at him. His ebony eyes sparked with wicked amusement as he gracefully inclined his head toward her and murmured, "Is this satisfactory?"

Hermione shut her mouth with a snap and nodded, dazed. Snape stepped closer, gazing down at her. She really looks wonderful. Now she really looks like a woman...

She chewed her lower lip nervously as he closed the gap between them, feeling her skin prickle as he drew nearer. Snape could tell the effect he had on her by the flush rising from her chest and along her neck to stain her cheeks, as well as the heated desire whirling in the dilated pupils of her eyes. Schooling his expression into one of humble entreaty, he purred, "I would like to ask a favour of you."

Hermione blinked, swallowed convulsively, and rasped, "What favour?"

Snape fought to keep the mischievous gleam out of his eyes as he answered, "I think it would be more fitting if my hair was pulled back. Would you help me?"

Hermione's breath caught and she smothered an anticipatory grin. "Of course. Please, sit." She gestured to her chair at the vanity and moved behind it. Snape sank down into it in one fluid movement, managing to fling his coat out of the way. He sat up straight and looked at Hermione in the mirror.

Hermione grabbed her brush and began brushing through his long black locks. His eyes immediately closed in delight. She smiled indulgently at the look on his face. Slowly dragging the brush over his scalp, she followed it with her hand, smoothing the hair. After a few minutes of silence, she grabbed an elastic from her vanity and gathered his hair at the base of his neck, lightly grazing her fingertips across the tender flesh. Snape shuddered. She secured the hair in a thick tail. Looking in the mirror, she noted that he had opened his eyes and was watching her with a smouldering gaze. Peering at his reflection, she saw that some of his hair was too short to be caught in the elastic. Pursing her lips in thought, she stepped around him and stood in front of him, leaning against her vanity table. Snape blinked up at her, taken aback.

"What?" he asked, perplexed.

She tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. Pensively, she muttered, "I don't have the pomade, but I don't know that I really want it anyhow..."

Snape stared up at her, brow furrowed. She reached out and lightly ran her fingers along his hairline, causing him to start and shudder again. Frowning, he asked again, "What?"

Hermione merely said, "Shake your head... not too hard."

Snape raised one eyebrow at her. "Excuse me?"

Hermione made a moue of exasperation and said, "Shake your head. You know, like you would if you said 'No.' Just not too hard."

Snape raised his eyebrows at her, clearly thinking she was daft, but complied. As he shook his head gingerly, he felt his hair falling forward again. He frowned, but Hermione smiled, pleased. "There! That's it." She reached out and fingered the short locks forward, smoothing them down to frame his face. Grabbing her brush again, she made a few more swipes at his hair, artfully smoothing the tresses that were pulled back and separating those that were hanging forward. Smiling widely, obviously pleased with herself, she leant back against the table and said, "Perfect."

Snape quirked an eyebrow at her in disbelief. He started to lean around her to see the mirror, but she deftly moved out of the way. She leant down behind him, beaming into the mirror as he gazed at his reflection. It was an interesting mix of his usual look and the slicked back style he wore as the Phantom. He glanced at Hermione and saw the sparkle of desire in her eyes. That decided it. If she liked it that much, he would certainly wear it and revel in the response it got! In one swift movement, he stood and spun, gazing down into Hermione's upturned face, feeling the wisps of hair tickling his cheeks. His eyes flicked at the time and saw that they had to leave soon. With a chivalrous air, he bowed and offered his arm to her.

"May I escort you to the play, madam?"

Hermione smiled and gazed up at him through her lashes. "I would certainly enjoy that, sir." She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and they made their way downstairs. As they got to the doorway to the living room, Hermione slid her hand off his arm and felt him step away. She stepped through the doorway first, to be met with exclamations of appreciation.

"Oh, Hermione! You look absolutely stunning! Here's that wrap I mentioned." Mrs. Granger stepped forward and draped a fake fur jacket over her shoulders.

"I say, you look so grown up! Where's my little girl?" Mr. Granger beamed at Hermione, stepping forward to take her hands and twirl her in place. He squeezed her hands playfully and Hermione laughed.

"Oh, Dad, I'm right here. I've just grown up, that's all." She smiled at her parents, basking in their love.

Snape stealthily sidled into the room, keeping a few paces behind Hermione. Mrs. Granger caught the movement in her peripheral vision and turned to see Snape. Her eyes widened and she tilted her head, gazing at him. Hermione saw her attention shift and looked. She choked back a laugh at her mother's dazed look. Mr. Granger followed Hermione's gaze and smirked at his wife's expression.

Snape felt self-conscious with all eyes on him, but he kept his expression calmly detached. Politely clearing his throat, he said, "We need to leave shortly. Do you have the tickets?"

Mr. Granger snapped his fingers and nodded, bustling into the kitchen. Mrs. Granger glanced back at Hermione and seemed to regain her faculties. Waving her hands about, she announced, "Pictures! I need pictures!" She immediately went to a hutch and began rifling through the drawers, looking for the camera.

Hermione rolled her eyes and almost wailed, "Mu-u-um! Please!"

Snape glanced between them, unsure of what was going on. Mr. Granger reappeared, bearing two tickets. He saw Hermione's aggrieved expression and his wife at the hutch and asked, "What are you looking for, love?"

"The camera. I need pictures!" Not a second later, she spun around, triumphantly brandishing a camera. "Here! Now, Hermione, go stand in front of the fireplace." She waved her hand at Hermione, herding her toward the hearth. Hermione cradled her face in her hand, shaking her head. Snape finally realized what her mother wanted and was trying to keep his smirk of amusement from surfacing. By the trenchant look Hermione shot him, he guessed he wasn't entirely successful.

Hermione trudged over to the fireplace and stood there. Glaring at her mother, she huffed irritably.

"Smile, dear!" Hermione forced a wan smile and her mother took some pictures. Then, Mrs. Granger turned to Snape and said, "Severus, come over here and get in the picture too. You both look so nice..."

Snape froze, his amusement fading into abject horror. Hermione's forced smile gave way to a real one of smug satisfaction. She gave him a look that clearly said, "Ha! Laugh at me? Take that!" Mr. Granger looked at Snape and chuckled.

"Oh, go on, Severus. It's just a picture. I know wizard pictures are different, but it won't hurt you." He gestured toward the fireplace and grinned.

Snape swallowed and grit his teeth. He glared at Hermione, who was beaming at him. Stiffly stepping beside her, he stood and grimly regarded Mrs. Granger and the camera.

"Smile for the camera!" Mrs. Granger chirped.

Snape raised an eyebrow and looked down his nose at her. "Madam, Severus Snape does not smile for pictures."

Hermione saw her mother's smile fading and quickly jumped in. "Really, Mum, it just wouldn't do to have evidence of Professor Snape smiling. It could ruin his reputation at Hogwarts..."

Snape glared down at her sternly, but she just smirked back. Mrs. Granger's smile came back as she chuckled knowingly. "Oh, I see. Well, in that case... Hermione, you smile, and Severus, just look imposing."

Snape gazed at her repressively and she cried, "Perfect!" as she took a few shots.

Giggling, Hermione stepped away and said, "Mum, we really have to go. It's after 7:00."

"Oh, indeed! Very well. Remember, there's dessert in the fridge, and don't forget to set your alarms for tomorrow morning. I'll be up at 7:00 to fix breakfast before you two set off for your tour."

Hermione hugged her mother and said, "Thanks, Mum. Will you be up when we get back?" Then she hugged her father.

"Oh, no. It'll be late. We'll be in bed. You two enjoy yourselves!" Mrs. Granger beamed at them as Hermione stepped back to Snape.

"We'll try to be quiet when we get in, so we won't disturb you." Hermione glanced between her parents earnestly.

"No worries, dear. Be careful and have fun!" Mr. Granger patted Hermione on the shoulder and stepped over to his wife.

Snape lightly gripped Hermione's upper arm and said in a low voice, "Are you ready?" Hermione nodded and Snape cast the concealment charm over them both again before Apparating to the theatre. As they dissolved from view, Hermione saw her parents' identical expressions of wonder and suppressed a giggle. Invisible, she grabbed for Snape's hand and twined her fingers in it. He squeezed her hand tightly and they disappeared.