64- Competition

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine, no matter how much I wish they were.

A/N: Again, this chapter was a long time in coming. As always, Real Life kept me busy. I appreciate you lovely folk who review, comment on my LJ, and email me with your continued support. And, as usual, deepest gratitude to my wonderful beta, Ladyofthemasque, and to Horserider, for putting up with my random, out-of-the-blue requests. Don't forget to check out my LJ for update info and my randomness: http://pern-dragon.livejournal.com/

Cheers! :)

Chapter 64- Competition

Hermione immediately rounded on Snape. "Severus! What happened?"

Snape's face twitched, and his mouth worked as if he had tasted something sour. Even in the moonlight, Hermione could tell that he had paled. Gripping his arm, she gazed up at him worriedly.

Finally, he swallowed and said, "Your... your mother..."

Hermione's brows shot up and she leant closer, her voice an urgent hiss. "What about my mother? Severus, please, what happened?"

Snape flicked a wary glance through the gates and toward the castle. He couldn't see any other figures still out walking. Shying away from Hermione's intense stare, he muttered, "Come. Let's go back. I still need to lock the gates." He spun away from her, gesturing for her to precede him through the gates.

Hermione's eyes narrowed, but she stepped through, her arms crossing in pique as she glared at him. Snape busied himself with the charms needed to lock and ward the gates. Then, with a sharp jerk of his head, he set off toward the castle, seeing Hermione stomping along with him to one side.

With a huff, Hermione growled, "What did she do, Severus? Tell me."

Snape's eyes closed and his brow furrowed. His hand waved at her faintly, as if trying to forestall her interrogation. Hermione caught at his hand and stopped, yanking him about. His eyes flew open at her aggressive move, and he scowled at her.

It was no match for her scowl, however, and Snape actually quailed at the crackling anger in her eyes. Blinking more, he flicked a nervous glance at the castle again, almost as if he were searching for someone to rescue him.

Realizing that he would know no peace until she had the details, he heaved a deep sigh, rubbing his forehead with the hand not clamped in her viselike grip.

He kept his hand over his face and averted his eyes, avoiding Hermione's. His voice was so low that Hermione had to strain to hear him. "She... she wouldn't let go of me." Hermione nodded in encouragement even as her eyes narrowed forebodingly. "You had just left, and I was waiting to Disapparate... and she... she touched me... my face..."

Hermione sucked in a breath through her nose, keeping her lips sealed shut until he had finished.

"She said... she could 'feel my passion', and... she imagined she was the one onstage... kissing me..."

The breath she had just inhaled burst out of her in a sharp blast. Snape dared to glance at her, but jerked away quickly, disturbed by the contained fury in her eyes.

In the strained silence that followed, Hermione whispered, "So, what did you do?"

Snape cast a wide-eyed gaze of consternation at her and hissed, "I Apparated!" They held each other's stares for a moment. Then Snape added, his voice as close to a wail as Hermione had ever heard it, "I didn't know what to do, Hermione!"

Hermione pursed her lips and let go of him, planting her hands on her hips. Her voice was a low hiss as she looked off into the distance and said, "Damn her!"

Snape stood there, miserable in his awkward uncertainty, hating the feeling of repeatedly not being in control of the situations he was in. He watched as Hermione ducked her head, scrubbing her face with both hands and running them through her hair as she heaved a deep sigh. Letting her hands fall to her sides, she wearily said, "I'll talk to her. Or Dad. Or something. I don't know, but I'll get the point across somehow."

Snape nodded mutely. With a quick glance at the castle, Hermione closed the distance between them and gazed tenderly up at him, her head tilted to one side as she lifted her hand to cup his cheek.

Snape's beleaguered mind snapped to attention, juxtaposing the sight of Hermione looking up at him that way with the image of her mother's enamoured gaze. Their heads were tilted the same way, they were nearly the same height, and the sensation of Hermione's hand touching his cheek was a light caress like her mother's had been. Snape's gut clenched violently, and he wrenched away from her, his eyes widening like a spooked colt's. As he backed away, he batted at her hand, making her blink and jerk backward, confused and taken aback.

"Severus? Are you okay?"

The same cold sweat of panic had prickled his scalp at the repeat of the earlier, unsettling sensations, and Snape realized he was breathing shallowly. With effort, he sucked in a deep breath and attempted to calm himself.

Hermione was staring at him, bewildered and concerned. Reaching forward to slip her hand through the crook of his elbow, she murmured soothingly, "It's all right. We can talk about it in my room..."

At that, Snape balked again, once more disengaging from her grasp as he blurted, "About that..."

Hermione's eyes narrowed and she frowned. "About what?"

Closing his eyes to search for the right words, Snape faltered, "I don't think... it would be a good idea... for me to come to your room tonight..."

Hermione inhaled sharply through her nose, and her words were clipped as she said, "What do you mean?"

Snape clenched his fists, struggling to verbalize the feeling of wrongness that still pervaded his being. The tense silence dragged on, Hermione watching him intently, her face set with worry.

"I... Tonight would not... It would be better not to," he finished lamely.

"Better how? Don't tell me it's safer, Severus. We've learnt our lessons in discretion. We both know that we were ready to take that chance a few hours ago. What's changed since then?"

Snape very nearly choked on the reply forcing its way past his lips. "Your mother!"

Hermione's eyes went wide, and she paled. Her whisper was shaky as she said, "That's not fair. It's not my fault she's smitten with you. She was like that in London, too!"

Snape sucked in a deep breath and huffed, "She did not manhandle me in such a fashion then. I can still feel it..." He closed his eyes and grimaced, shuddering.

Hermione stared at him, her eyes growing bright and glassy. Thinning her lips to still their trembling, she muttered, "So, now what? I don't dare touch you, lest you think of my mother? Are you going to let her ruin us?"

Snape's eyes snapped open and he goggled at the tears welling up in her eyes. Taken aback by her question, he hastily shook his head, saying, "No! Of course not! I'm sure this is all temporary; I just need some time to..."

He trailed off, aghast at how shaken she looked. His voice was pleading as he continued, "Hermione, I promise, nothing will ruin us. I just need to be able to shake this off. I think a hot shower and a night of Dreamless Sleep will do the trick. Don't blow this out of proportion, love, please. We'll be together soon, but... not tonight."

Hermione crossed her arms and looked away, sniffing hugely, blinking back the tears that threatened.

Snape looked up toward the castle, knowing he didn't dare comfort her, even if he had been able to bring himself to embrace her at the moment. Straightening to his full height, he said, in his Professor voice, "It's getting late. Would you like to Apparate the rest of the way?"

Hermione shot him a reproachful look, tossing her head morosely. Clearing her throat, she gathered her dignity and retorted, "Whatever is most convenient for you, Professor. I wouldn't want to impose upon your time."

Snape rolled his eyes resignedly at her frosty manner and sighed. "Very well then." Hermione stepped closer and tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. A shudder rippled over Snape, and he twitched away, muttering, "I'll just take your arm this way, shall I?" He avoided Hermione's offended and hurt gaze as he gripped her elbow, nodding sharply and Apparating to the front doors of the castle. As soon as they arrived, he released her, stepping away awkwardly.

Hermione stared at him as he opened the door and waved her through. Snape nodded curtly to her, speaking again in his Professor voice. "Run along then, Miss Granger. Don't dawdle."

Hermione ducked her head and said, "Yes, sir. Good night, Professor." Then, shooting one last wistful look at him, she turned and hurried down the corridor and up the stairs. Snape watched her go.

He stood alone in the Entrance Hall, his whirling thoughts coming to rest again on Mrs. Granger's actions. A wave of cold washed over him, like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on his head, and he realized he was rubbing fiercely at his cheek, as if trying to scrub away her unwelcome touch. Shaking his head and jerking his hand away from his face, he strode determinedly down the corridor, intent on reaching his quarters and his longed-for Dreamless Sleep Draught.

As he neared his rooms, he was jolted from his introspection at the sight of McGonagall leaning against the wall beside his door. Blinking, he queried, "Minerva?"

She pushed away from the stones, tossing her head in relief as she said, "Thank Merlin you're finally here. I was wondering how long you would take to get back to your quarters."

Bewildered, Snape cautiously said, "I just returned from escorting the Grangers to their home."

"I was wondering why they weren't with the rest in my office..."

"Minerva, why are you here?" He eyed her warily, his gut twisting as he realized that if he had simply Apparated to Hermione's room after all, they might have been caught when McGonagall would have come looking for him, asking Hermione when she had seen him last.

McGonagall pursed her lips in a half-smile and said, "Severus, are we going to continue this conversation in the corridor?"

Snape grimaced at her and said acidly, "Fine then." He opened his door and bowed for her to precede him. "After you, madam."

McGonagall wrinkled her nose at him and rolled her eyes as she passed. "I have that information I promised you." She sank into one of the armchairs in front of the hearth and proffered a parchment with a list of names. "These are contractors who have done satisfactory work for several people I know. I wouldn't hesitate to contact any of them. Of course, now that the Floo is connected, you can arrange to meet them there any time. Speaking of, when do you plan to go to the house?" Her eyes shone with benevolent interest.

Snape shifted gears and blinked. "I don't know yet. I hadn't thought much about it, what with the preparations for the show..."

At that, McGonagall beamed at him again and leant forward. "I must say again, Severus, how marvellous you were. I'm so proud of you."

Snape ducked his head and bit back a smile. "Yes, well, everyone did well..."

Her snort startled him. "Oh, for Merlin's sake! You are allowed to admit that you practically stole the show." She chuckled at his blank look. "Yes, yes, everyone did well, but it was you who led us to excel, and you who amazed everyone the most." Her gaze was a mix of fond pride and exasperation.

Snape felt a warmth once again creeping up his face and stealing through his chest at the same time, and he averted his eyes. Unable to stop himself, he muttered, "Be that as it may, I was driven to match Miss Granger's abilities. You should be proud of her."

A short bark of laughter snapped his gaze back up to McGonagall, and she averred, "Oh, I am, believe me! But I'm considering how much of a change was wrought...how long a journey you've travelled to this point. Your success is therefore more remarkable, Severus." With that candid praise, she then quirked her lips and cocked a brow at him. "Do learn to accept a compliment, Severus."

Hermione railed at me for that very same reason. Of course, how was I supposed to learn to take a compliment when I never got any before?

Nodding gracefully in acceptance, he murmured, "Thank you, Minerva." Then, spurred by the warmth of her praise and the knowledge of Hermione's love, he added, "And, for the record... I concede. You win."

McGonagall's brows drew together in a confused frown. "Win what?"

Snape met her eyes unflinchingly and said, "Our wager. I won't even wait until the Ministry performance to admit it. Whether we win or not...although I'm sure we will...I admit that a Gryffindor can be as worthy as a Slytherin." Then, amused by her wide-eyed stare of astonishment, he added, "Not all Gryffindors, of course. But Miss Granger has managed to prove herself."

McGonagall gazed at him in silence for a moment, then breathed, "Severus Snape, you have changed." He snorted, and she shook her head slowly. "I never would have imagined our wager resulting in you conceding with such good grace. It's almost unsettling. Surliness I was used to!" She shifted in her seat, nodding for emphasis, and Snape found himself smirking.

Regarding her with a mischievous grin, he said, "I do apologize for disconcerting you. Allow me to remedy that right now." With that, he twisted his expression into a menacing scowl, turning his body away from her and snarling, "Get out."

Her surprised blink almost made him crack, but he managed to hold the look long enough for her to cotton on and start chuckling, rolling her eyes as she stood.

"You really are the living end. No wonder you're as good an actor as you are, if you can snap from behaving like a human being to acting like the 'bat of the dungeons' that quickly." Favouring him with an amused glare, she smirked as he flashed her a once-again-mischievous grin, rising to usher her to the door.

Giving her a mocking bow, he gestured for her to precede him to the door, saying, "My my, so many compliments, Minerva. I'll not be able to fit through the corridors; you're swelling my head so much."

She waved a dismissive hand at him and voiced a sceptical grunt. "I'll just leave you to your plans for the break, then."

Dropping the playful tone, Snape said, "Thank you for the list, and for connecting the Floo for me. I appreciate your help."

Smiling in self-satisfaction, McGonagall said, "You're quite welcome. Good night, Severus." She stepped through the door Snape held open for her.

"Good night, Minerva." Snape was about to close the door behind her, but she paused and popped back again, eyeing him with a half-smile.

"Oh, and I've been meaning to tell you...that hairstyle is rather becoming. Then again, perhaps it's because it's nice to see your face since you're no longer scowling all the time." With a saucy wink, she left, finally letting Snape shut the door.

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

Snape sat in his armchair, his expression a brown study as he pondered the list of adjustments he wanted done to Spinner's End.

I know some things for sure, but as far as anything other than the lab goes, I don't know what to do. I'd hate to choose something that Hermione would hate. No doubt she'd like to have some say in what...gods willing...will be her home. It's all I can offer her, and I want it to be satisfactory to her as well. He idly circled his lips with one finger, trying to determine how best to contact her about it. I could always just ask her, but that seems a bit presumptuous and precipitate. Besides, I well remember how much she enjoyed being surprised, and I rather think I'd like to surprise her again. A faint, tender smile crept over his lips, and his finger dropped to prop up his chin as he leant his elbow on the arm of the chair.

Lounging that way, the parchment list forgotten in his other hand, he was startled by the rapid knocking on his door. Brows drawing together, he laid the list on the side table and stood, wondering who would be bothering him in his quarters over the holiday. The school was empty of nearly all students except for the cast. Expression stern, he opened his door.

Surprised yet again, he uttered a startled, "Minerva?" as his brows rose in reaction to her excited attitude.

Beaming at him, virtually quivering with pent-up excitement, she brandished a rolled up magazine under his nose. "Severus, I have something wonderful to show you!"

Wondering what she could possibly have, as she had just given him the list of contractors the night before, Snape backed away, allowing her to enter his quarters for the second time in as many days. She actually gripped his elbow and dragged him toward the dining table, Snape flinging the door shut as he lurched away from it.

Triumphantly dropping into a chair, she gestured for him to do the same as she spread the magazine flat on the table. Snape sat more slowly, frowning when he saw the tabloid's title emblazoned across the front.

His voice scathing, he said, "The Quibbler? Minerva, surely..."

He was interrupted by a warning flash in her eyes and a crisp, "Enough! Hold your tongue until I've shown you what I found."

Snape sat back, crossing his arms and looking dubious. McGonagall flipped quickly through several pages, turning at last to the classifieds section. Pointing importantly at the middle of one column, she lifted her head and declared, "There! I would have shown you at breakfast, but you never showed up."

Snape merely nodded. He had stayed up late mulling over the contractors and his list of changes, and when he had finally taken a dose of Dreamless Sleep, he took the full amount, meaning he had slept long and late, missing breakfast altogether. It was worth it, however, as he had woken refreshed and finally free of the lingering taint of Mrs. Granger's manhandling.

"I know you've been keeping a weather eye out for employment in the Prophet, but I know as well as you that nothing's been listed yet in your field." Again, Snape nodded, scowling at the reminder. Smiling gently at him, she continued, "But I saw this today, and it's perfect for you, Severus. Look!"

Snape pursed his lips and rolled his eyes as he leant forward, reading the small text above her finger.

"Business Opportunity

Contact Fern Campbell c/o The Quibbler"

Blinking in consternation, Snape lifted his gaze to McGonagall. "'Energetic collaborator'? Come now, Minerva, I don't quite fit that bill..."

McGonagall huffed in impatience and said, "Read between the lines! A 'fledgling business,' 'entrepreneur,' 'your ambition'...how many times have you emphasized your House traits? Need I spell it out for you, oh-paragon-of-Slytherin? Clearly this young woman needs guidance and a partner with skills. You not only have rather more skills than anyone has a right to expect in potion-making, your guidance amounts to outright manipulation at times!" She tossed her head at his grimace. "This could very well be your chance to build a business without having to do it by yourself. It never hurts to find out more."

Wary of the cautious hope that bubbled up in his chest, he sniffed, "If this is so legitimate, why isn't it advertised in the Prophet? This could be some sort of scam or pyramid scheme."

McGonagall glared at him and shook her head pityingly. "Perhaps. But perhaps not. Find out!"

Snape leant back in his chair, pensive. McGonagall smirked, certain that she had made her point well enough that he would contact the advertiser.

"You may keep this copy. I'll see you at lunch, then?" She stood, smiling at him as he rose to cross to the door.

"Perhaps." He opened the door, nodding at her as she stepped through.

"Oh, I daresay you haven't seen the notice board yet, but Monday evening we'll be having dinner early so we can have the Hall transformed for us to watch the Beauxbatons performance. I'm quite looking forward to seeing the other schools, aren't you?"

Snape blinked, wrenching his mind from the ad and trying to follow her train of thought. "Indeed. It will be nice to see how well they do, particularly as we have the advantage of going last."

"Exactly. Very well. Good day to you." She nodded and smiled before sweeping back down the dungeon corridor. Snape shut the door slowly.

Taking a deep breath, he went back to the magazine on the table, staring thoughtfully at it. Finally, he nodded sharply, snatching up the periodical and striding determinedly to his office.

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

Saturday evening, Hermione was relieved to see Snape at the High Table.

Granted, the Great Hall was quite empty, as very few students beyond those who were on cast had elected to stay over the holiday. She had continued to worry about his reaction to her mother when he hadn't shown up for breakfast or lunch. It certainly hadn't helped that, at breakfast, people were continually eyeing her with solemn, wary expressions. She was very grateful when they all filed out to head down to the Hogsmeade Station to leave for break.

Now, as she surreptitiously peered up at him, she noticed that he seemed pensive, but not disturbed like the night before. Catching his eye, relief washed over her at the minute quirk of his lips into a reassuring half-smile and the way he inclined his head in her direction as he Summoned the tea service. Closing her eyes and exhaling her lingering anxiety, she then took a cleansing breath and smiled, her equilibrium regained.

As several of the remaining Gryffindors got up, talking about enjoying the clear April evening, they asked Hermione if she'd like to join them. Noting that they all amounted to couples in varying stages of attachment, she smiled ruefully and said, "No, thanks. I've got some reading to do." As they rolled their eyes and shook their heads, she grimaced at them and said loftily, "Some people plan to get 'O's on their N.E.W.T.s, thank you very much."

In the ensuing laughter, they all left the Hall, Hermione flicking a wistful glance over her shoulder at Snape. He was already walking toward the staff entrance, and Hermione let out a tiny sigh that she hadn't caught his eye again.

Thus it was that she was surprised to enter her room and find her bathroom door almost closed, when she had left it open, and Crookshanks nowhere to be seen. Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, she cast an audible Imperturbable on her door and then crossed to her bathroom, pushing the door open slowly. She couldn't help the smile that crossed her face at the sight of Snape, wand at the ready, perched on the edge of the tub, petting Crookshanks where he sat on the closed toilet lid, purring. Snape lowered his wand and smiled back, immediately standing and closing the distance between them.

He cupped her cheek and bent to kiss her, pulling back and murmuring, "I heard you cast the Imperturbable. Clever girl."

Hermione wrinkled her nose at him and retorted, "I like to think so. But, Severus, what are you doing here?"

Snape nodded for them to exit the bathroom, and they sank onto the edge of her bed. He gazed at her tenderly. "Several things. First, I wanted to apologize for last night. I'm...ah...over it now. I'm sorry you were upset." Hermione shrugged even as she averted her eyes and frowned. Snape lifted his fingers to her chin and guided her to look at him again. "Hermione, I never wish to make you cry in sadness. You know that, don't you?"

Nodding, she whispered, "Yes."

"Good." He leant forward and kissed her again, a gentle benison of love and promise. Sitting back, he inhaled deeply and blinked, marshalling his thoughts. "Second, I needed to talk to you."

Instantly concerned, Hermione said, "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, yes, everything's fine. I may actually have some exciting news, and that's why I needed to talk to you." At her wide-eyed, expectant gaze, he licked his lips and said, "The Floo is connected to Spinner's End now, and I am arranging to meet some contractors there this week." He reached forward and clasped her hands in his. "Hermione, is there any way we can sneak you out of here to come with me?"

Hermione blinked in surprise. It was one thing to pop about in the castle, secreting themselves in one room or another, but to leave the castle altogether... Bewildered, she asked, "Why? I don't know any more than you do about contractors or home improvement."

Snape's gaze faltered, and a faint flush stole over his cheeks. "I just wanted to show you my home... and I value your input."

"Oh." She swallowed. Here I am telling him to finally let others help him and get involved in his life, and when he asks me to do just that, I balk. Pick one, Hermione! You can't have it both ways!

Looking down at their hands, she noticed that his grip was tense, and she said, "I'd love to come with you, Severus..." His head whipped up and he gazed at her adoringly. "But it's so risky. How can we manage it?"

Snape swallowed, the beatific grin lighting his face. His voice was low and fervent as he said, "I'll work it out, I promise."

Hermione nodded, smiling shyly, then squeezed his hands, saying, "What else? You said there were several things."

Snape snorted and tossed his head. "Minerva not only provided me with the list of contractors Friday night...which, by the way, meant it was a very good thing I didn't pop up here after all..." Hermione's eyes goggled and she shuddered at the thought of what could have happened. "She descended upon me this morning as well, all but browbeating me into looking into a job prospect."

Hermione gasped, bouncing in excitement. "Oh! What is it?"

Snape quirked his lips and withdrew a folded piece of paper from his pocket. He handed it to Hermione, who opened it eagerly. Her eyes raced over the page, and her brows climbed higher with each line. Staring up at him blankly, she said, "Where did you get this? It wasn't in the Prophet; I've been looking."

Ducking his head, Snape sighed and said, "The Quibbler."

At that, Hermione's jaw dropped, and she blinked at him, incredulous. Her voice nearly squeaked as she repeated, "The Quibbler?"

Snape snorted. "I know. Not exactly one of the periodicals I regularly peruse. Matter of fact, I think the last time I saw one was when I read Potter's interview with Rita Skeeter two years ago." He cast a knowing, sidelong glance at her, making her duck her head and flush.

Hermione read the ad again, determinedly ignoring his veiled gibe. Her brow furrowed and she murmured, "It does seem right up your alley, but it also seems a bit..." She trailed off, searching for the right word.

"Out there? Off-kilter? Dodgy?" Snape supplied.

Hermione grimaced at him. "Not exactly. Maybe a bit... Unusual! Yes, that's it."

Snape snorted and rolled his eyes. "It's an advertisement, Hermione; you needn't be diplomatic."

She favoured him with a glare and said, "Well, have you contacted this 'Fern' person?"

Snape inhaled deeply, his expression once again solemn. "I did."

At that, Hermione beamed at him. "Wonderful! You haven't heard back yet, have you?"

"Not yet. I don't know how quickly The Quibbler forwards on such correspondence. At any rate, she may have already found someone."

Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "Even so, she'd be a fool to not entertain other prospects. If she's to be successful, she needs to hire the best...which you unequivocally are, dearest." With that, she reached out and caressed his forearm, squeezing as she made her point.

Snape couldn't quite suppress the pleased smile that surfaced. He locked eyes with her, his gaze quickly turning from warm regard to fiery attraction. Hermione felt the change and gasped, owl-eyed in response.

Snape covered her hand with his, leaning forward and pressing a needy kiss to her lips. After several moments of all but devouring her, he pulled back and purred, "It's the holiday now, love. I'm here."

Hermione voiced a breathy moan as he trailed nips back to her ear and down her throat. As one hand came up to cup her breast, she gasped and jumped in surprise. Snape pulled back to cast a puzzled look at her.

"What's wrong?" His voice was low and tinged with worry.

"I just... wasn't expecting to see you so soon. I had planned to do some reading tonight."

Wicked intent flashed over Snape's face and he drawled, "What kind of reading?" flicking a suggestive glance at her stack of erotica.

While Hermione's body was responding to his caresses, her mind hadn't caught up. She was still smarting from the previous night's awkwardness about her mother, and she had been all geared up to study, and now that train of thought was getting derailed. She couldn't help the faint expression of impatient frustration that crossed her face.

Her tone verging on exasperated, she retorted, "Not that kind. I'm reading for my Arithmancy N.E.W.T."

Snape blinked, frozen. Then, he realized that she really was talking about studying instead of spending time with him. Releasing her abruptly, he sat back, eyeing her with a mixture of incredulity and offence.

Back-pedalling, Snape snapped up his cool façade to mask the hurt of her lack of response. Resting on his dignity, he murmured, "I beg your pardon for interrupting. Do forgive my intrusion." He shot to his feet and stepped back, offering a frosty bow before saying, "Good night, Hermione," and Disapparating.

Hermione's mouth opened to say something to stop his hasty departure, but he was gone before the words were even half formed. An uncomfortable knot formed in her stomach as she realized that she must have hurt his feelings.

Bugger all! Studies are not everything, dammit! He came here to involve you in his life, and you pushed him away in favour of revising? What is wrong with you? You better make it up to him...

Reluctantly shoving off her bed to her desk, she heaved a sigh as she sat and pulled out her work.

Well, if you're going to send him packing in high dudgeon, then you better make the most of the time now, so it won't get in the way again. Don't let it get in the way again! At least you'll see him Monday evening for the Beauxbatons performance if he avoids the Great Hall again.

Mentally smacking herself upside the head for her gaffe, she lifted the Imperturbable from her door...Won't need that now...... and set to work.

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

Hermione didn't see Snape again until dinner Monday night, but no one else really saw him much either. He had spent most of his time meeting with Graham Moore, Flooing to Spinner's End, and shopping for the house.

His first trip to the empty house had him stepping out of the hearth into the front room, only to see that the windows were bare, and anyone could have seen his arrival. Instantly casting a concealment charm, he peered out of the windows, relieved to see the street empty. It was then that he realized he had to be careful how he was seen travelling to the house, until he had it secured from prying eyes. That thought sent him Apparating to the building where Graham Moore worked.

Becoming visible in the shadows between two buildings, he crossed to the front doors, only to be brought up short by the fact that it was closed, it being a Sunday. Face falling in defeat, he rummaged through his trench coat pocket to find Moore's card, as the man had also printed his home number on it. Looking around for a telephone box, Snape trekked along the streets, glad that when he found one, it was unoccupied.

Casting a furtive glance around for any witnesses, he surreptitiously pointed his wand at the telephone, connecting the line that way, as he hadn't any Muggle coins. After a few rings, a voice came on the line.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Moore?"

"Yes, can I help you?"

"I hope so. This is Severus Snape speaking. I do apologize for interrupting your weekend."

"No worries! What can I do for you, Mr. Snape?"

"I would like to gain access to the house as soon as possible. I realized that I do not even have a key to my own house anymore."

"Of course! Are you in the area?"

Suppressing a snort, Snape drawled, "I am close enough."

"Well, in that case, why don't I just meet you there right away and we can go ahead and do the walk-through?"

"That would be acceptable. I shall meet you there."

"Excellent. I'll be leaving here in a few minutes, and it shouldn't take but twenty or so to get there. I look forward to seeing you there."

"Indeed. Twenty minutes, then."

"See you soon, Mr. Snape."

Moore hung up, and Snape once again sought out a dark corner to Disapparate. Just as he had done the first time, he concealed himself, then Apparated to the bank of the river. Casting a sharp glance around for anyone else about, he became visible again and walked up to the neighbourhood to meet Moore.

Strolling down the streets, he saw housewives hanging out the washing, children playing in the yards, and men washing their cars and caring for their lawns. It was all very pleasant, and a cautious hope sprang up in his chest that he and Hermione would be happy there. Sinking onto the front step, he waited for Moore to arrive.

Not much later, Moore drove up, beaming good-naturedly at Snape as he crossed to Snape at the front door.

Standing and shaking his hand, Snape reiterated, "I do hope I haven't taken you away from your leisure."

Shaking his head vigorously, Moore demurred. "Not at all. Glad to get this done." Peering around with a puzzled frown, he queried, "Where's your car?"

Snape dropped the other man's hand and turned to the door, muttering, "Took a taxi." Gesturing at the lock, he added, "Shall we?"

Moore nodded, handing Snape the key. "Here you go. All yours."

Snape unlocked the door and stepped inside, striding immediately to the front room. "I shall have to get blinds for these right away. I don't much care for the idea that people can see straight in while no one is here."

Nodding sagely, Moore said, "True, true. Well, let's go through everything, all right?"

Moore had transferred the utilities to Snape's name again now that the tenants were gone, and Snape went on the walk-through with the man to make sure the property was in good enough condition to allow the couple to get their security deposit back.

Of course, with a housekeeper like Lucy, the house was spotless, and even though it seemed echoingly empty without their belongings filling it, Snape could still feel the lingering warmth of their personalities pervading the space. When they were out in the back garden, one of the neighbours popped out as well, nodding amiably over the fence at them. Snape could tell by her bright eyes that she was curious about him...no doubt based on his purported reputation.

He was pleased to note that the kitchen had been updated, including all the time-saving Muggle devices that would come in handy without house-elves to do all the chores. It wouldn't do to use magic too flagrantly in a Muggle neighbourhood.

They completed the walk-through, and when they were back out front, Moore offered Snape a ride, but Snape declined, saying, "I'd like to explore the neighbourhood a bit more, thank you."

When Moore drove off, Snape let himself back into the house, making a mental note to bring a pot of Floo powder over right away. Then, stepping away from the windows, he Disapparated, heading to Diagon Alley to do some shopping...curtains and Floo powder, first thing.

After purchasing blinds enough for the ground floor's windows, Snape returned to the house and put them up, grateful for Permanent Sticking Charms. Monday had involved more of the same, with Snape popping over to Spinner's End and making more notes, as well as stocking the kitchen with basics and sundries. He realized late that afternoon that the Beauxbatons performance was that evening, and he hastened back to his quarters at Hogwarts to get ready for dinner there.

Stepping out of his fireplace, he saw the sealed scroll sitting prominently on the table beside his armchair. Delivered by a house-elf, I suppose.

Dropping into the chair, he opened it, his eyes widening at the name of the sender.

Fern Campbell!

His eyes raced across the page, devouring the neatly penned response.

"Dear Mr. Snape,

Fern Campbell"

Snape stared at the letter, quite taken aback by its unusual nature. Mercy... after that sort of introduction, I wonder if this woman has more money than sense.

Shaking his head, he Summoned parchment, a quill, and ink, settling at the dining table to scribble a hasty reply.

"Miss Campbell,

Severus Snape"

Jotting down his Spinner's End address, he sealed the scroll and addressed it, summoning a house-elf. When the elf appeared, he handed the scroll to her and said, "Tandy, please take this to the Owlery for me to be delivered to Fern Campbell. The address is on the letter. I must hurry to dinner before the Beauxbatons performance this evening, and I want this to go out right away."

The elf bobbed a curtsey, nodding vigorously. "Yes, sir, Professor Snape, sir. Tandy will send it right away. Thank you, sir."

"Thank you, Tandy." He inclined his head graciously, and Tandy offered a tremulous smile before bobbing another curtsey and disappearing. At that, Snape rose, Apparating up to the Great Hall.

Dinner was a hurried, excited affair, as the cast was eagerly anticipating the performance afterwards. As soon as the puddings had disappeared from the tables, Dumbledore stood, gesturing for everyone to leave the Hall.

The cast trooped out, hovering in buzzing groups in the corridor as Dumbledore transformed the Hall to the theatre. Snape and McGonagall stood near the doors, their voices low in conversation.

"I haven't seen you much lately, Severus." McGonagall cast a sly glance at him and smirked teasingly.

Snape grimaced at her, but it was quite without rancour. "I've been busy at the house, thank you very much. Met with my agent and got the key, did a bit of shopping, put up some blinds... basic things. I shall be meeting several of the contractors Thursday. I decided to have them all there the same day, so I could get comparison quotes all at once. Perhaps the notion of competition will work in my favour." With that, he quirked one corner of his mouth up, and McGonagall chuckled.

"Not wasting time, are you?" she drawled. Snape shrugged eloquently.

Behind them, the doors opened. Dumbledore beckoned for them all to enter, saying, "Come in, come in! The stage is ready, and we should be connecting to Beauxbatons shortly. Take your seats, please."

Snape and McGonagall led the cast into the theatre, stepping to one side to allow the students to file into the front row of the audience. When the students were seated, Snape and McGonagall strode into the row behind the students, still standing as they waited for Dumbledore to make the connection through the mirrors.

Glancing around furtively and speaking in a low voice, McGonagall queried, "So, have you contacted anyone else?" Eyeing him meaningfully, she nodded in encouragement.

Snape rolled his eyes and huffed, but he reluctantly acknowledged her. "Fine! I responded to that ad. I just heard back from the woman today."

McGonagall's eyes had lit up at his response, and she regarded him with visible excitement. "What did you say? What did she say? Are you going to interview with her?"

Ahead of them, Dumbledore was opening the mirror connection, and they dropped to their seats, barely paying attention to the students in front of them as they continued their hushed conversation.

Snape ducked his head, retreating behind his hair, then muttered, "I asked for more information, and I daresay I got more than I expected. Her reply was much more informal than one would think to get when inquiring about a business position. However, I have agreed to meet her in person after all. She shall be coming to the house Thursday as well. I figured it would save time, as I'll be there already and the Floo is connected. Besides, if I'm to set up a potions lab, she, as the business owner, would do well to know what I have available to me."

McGonagall gazed approvingly at him, beaming, her hands clasped just below her chin. "Severus, that's wonderful! I'm so pleased for you. As much as I'll miss you when you've gone, I am so looking forward to seeing you get on with your life. Good for you."

Snape averted his eyes, a flattered flush stealing over his cheeks. Abashed, he murmured, "Yes... well... thank you, Minerva."

McGonagall reached out and patted his arm, smiling fondly at him. They were both startled by an alarmed voice saying, "You're leaving?"

Both teachers turned to see Ginny twisted about in her seat, chin propped on her crossed arms where they were resting on the seat back. Her expression was distressed as she repeated, "I couldn't help but hear you, Professor. Are you leaving us?"

Snape blinked, unprepared for the untimely revelation of his plans. Beside Ginny, Harry twisted around too, his brow furrowed in surprised confusion. Snape stared blankly at McGonagall, who stared right back, her expression clearly stating that it was up to him how to respond.

Turning back to the pair of curious gazes, Snape murmured, "Not right away, Miss Weasley. But I am retiring from Hogwarts at the end of this year."

Ginny's eyes snapped open wide, and she looked at him reproachfully, saying, "But Professor, who will teach me the rest of my N.E.W.T. level Potions? How can you go? We'd miss you!"

Harry goggled at her, torn between his instinctive reaction of wondering how anyone could want to take Snape's class and the disconcerting idea that Hogwarts just wouldn't be the same without Snape in the dungeons. His inner battle was visible on his face, and the mixture was almost comical.

Snape, who was coming to terms with the cat being out of the bag, felt an odd warmth spreading outward from his chest at Ginny's indignant declaration. He gazed at her, taken aback by the fact that she was completely sincere. Swallowing to moisten his dry throat, he said, "Ah...I'm sure the headmaster will appoint a suitable replacement. I'm sure you'll do fine on your exams."

Ginny scowled, her lower lip pushing forward in petulance. "It's not the same! No one else will teach like you do, and I doubt they'd be as much of an expert as you are, sir. It's not fair! Couldn't you wait one more year, until I'm done, too?" Her tone had changed from cross to wheedling, and she gazed at him imploringly.

Snape blinked several times, thrown for a loop by her insistence. A fleeting thought chased through his stunned mind. I guess I was mistaken when I told the Grangers that no one would miss me when I left.

In the silence following her plea, Harry squinted at Snape and said, "It is kind of weird to think of Hogwarts without you here, Professor. It'll definitely take some getting used to." He flashed a wry grimace at Snape, rubbing the back of his neck and shrugging.

Despite himself, Snape snorted. Then, catching Ginny's eye, he snorted again at her winning smile of persuasion. Flicking a glance down the row toward Hermione, he murmured, "Miss Weasley, while I appreciate the sentiment, I shall not change my mind." He inclined his head at her crestfallen expression. "I'm sure you'll be fine with a new teacher. Bright students succeed no matter what."

Ginny blinked owlishly at the oblique compliment, and even McGonagall stared at him in surprise. But before they could reply, Dumbledore's voice rang out.

"Attention, please! We are connected to Beauxbatons, the Ministry is in attendance there, and the show is about to start. Please be quiet and give our competitors the respect they deserve." He sat down amid the furtive hisses and shushes, and then all was quiet.

Through the mirrors, they could hear the muted rustling sounds of the audience at Beauxbatons, even though they couldn't see them. Finally, the show began, and the Hogwarts cast sat, enraptured, gazing up at the performance playing out across their own stage along the mirrors.

The Beauxbatons cast was comprised completely of students, and they made judicious use of glamours to look older. The sheer number of cast members was daunting, at least half again as many as the Hogwarts cast. The sets were quite stunning, and the music was just as good, being orchestral accompaniment like theirs, but the younger actors didn't quite pack as much of a punch as the older teachers on the Hogwarts cast.

Several of the Hogwarts students found themselves frowning in concentration, trying to understand the words to songs, not because they were sung poorly, but simply because the Beauxbatons students had such accents that the Hogwarts group wasn't used to hearing.

If the magical folk at Hogwarts were shocked at how sensual Phantom was, and how blatantly it referred to sex, they were rather taken aback at the stark representation of criminals and whores and the devastation brought about by the illegitimate child of one of the characters. Then again, perhaps they were a bit uptight about some things, as it didn't seem to faze the French cast.

When Act One ended and intermission began, several students could be seen blinking rapidly and shaking their heads as they applauded. Some were rubbing their eyes and smoothing foreheads furrowed from concentration as they watched. Conversations rippled through the group, and the sound of more of the same was audible through the mirrors.

McGonagall pursed her lips and muttered, "I wish we could see the Ministry officials, just to gauge their reactions thus far." Snape nodded thoughtfully. She continued, "I will admit that they are very good, but I still don't think they measure up to us."

Snape snorted and rolled his eyes. "That's your pride talking."

McGonagall drew herself up haughtily and glared at him. "It is not! Granted, I am quite proud of our cast, but I do think...objectively...that we are better. Of course, by we, I mean mainly you and Miss Granger." She inclined her head with a smile, and Snape ducked his head sheepishly.

"Yes, well, I hope the Ministry shares your opinion."

McGonagall chuckled, then stared musingly at the stage. "I daresay they must have cast a first year as the little Cosette. She was quite young. I'm glad our casting was restricted to older students. I rather think it might be too much pressure for a first year."

Snape merely nodded, hoping the intermission would end soon, as he was keen on seeing the rest of their competition. The performance had energy, but it was different from the sort of electric sizzle their cast had. Perhaps it's simply because of the subject matter. I mean, this is a fairly depressing tale so far. Somehow, I doubt it will have much of a happy ending. Then, with an inner snort, he continued, Then again, our play doesn't have a happy ending either...well, at least not for the Phantom. I wonder if Durmstrang's play is sad and tragic as well. His ruminations were cut short by the lights going down in the mirrors, indicating that the second act was about to begin.

The Hogwarts cast fell silent as they turned their attention to the performance. As the battle scenes swept across the stage, rife with noise and lights and chaos, every person in the Hogwarts Hall leant forward, watching with unblinking eyes, sucked into the drama. Then, with each successive death, more and more people found themselves with glassy eyes, furtively sniffing and rubbing away the moisture, affected by the pathos.

Eventually, when the final scenes allowed for a shred of happiness to spring from the continued tragedies and devastation, several people smiled through their tears, finally sitting back in their seats again and taking deep breaths to relax.

The play ended, and the Hogwarts cast joined in the audible applause, uplifted by a mixture of the engaging performance and the belief that the Hogwarts cast would surpass what they had just witnessed and win the competition. The Beauxbatons cast came out for their curtain call, and when they were about to file off, they were surprised by a Ministry of Magic official ascending the stage with them.

Looking out at the audience, the man said, "On behalf of the Ministry of Magic's Department of International Magical Relations, I would like to offer my most sincere congratulations to Beauxbatons for producing such a marvellous show. The inaugural performance of this Tri-wizard Competition has set the bar quite high, and we all look forward to the next two performances by Durmstrang and Hogwarts. For now, we would like to thank Madame Maxime for her leadership and dedication in this endeavour, and offer congratulations once again to the students who contributed to such a resounding success. The Ministry is in your debt, and your school, family, and friends should all be exceptionally proud of you. Well done." He followed his speech with a flourishing bow, then exited the stage, joining the applause that had begun again.

Taking their bows one last time, the cast filed into the wings, leaving the stage empty. The sounds of the audience at Beauxbatons were still audible to those at Hogwarts, and they, too, broke out into conversations as Dumbledore approached the mirrors to end the connection and dispose of them.

Snape and McGonagall stood, glancing around at the students. Several girls were dabbing at their eyes, sniffling, talking hard about what they liked or didn't like.

Down the row, Ron stretched, his joints popping audibly as he grimaced. Rubbing at his face, he said, "Blimey, that was long."

Susan shot him a reproachful look from where she and Hannah were discussing the tragic beauty of the young people's secret loves. Her tone was scandalized as she said, "Ron!"

Shrugging elaborately, Ron said, "What? I couldn't follow what was going on half the time, their accents were so thick, and people just kept getting older, I guess. I mean, how many years do you figure that play covered? How was I supposed to know when they were and what was going on?"

Dean piped up, "I know it was set in French history and all that, but I don't remember much about what happened when. If it wasn't History of Magic, it was long ago, before I came here." He conveniently left off the fact that even if the events had been covered in History of Magic, he wouldn't have remembered it anyway, as he regularly fell asleep or played games with Seamus in the back row during class.

Hermione, further down the same row, where she was standing by Neville and Parvati, frowned and said, "No, the Napoleonic Wars and Lamarque's death decades later had no links to the wizarding world; we've never learnt about them in History of Magic."

Ron cast a baffled look at Hermione and said, "Gee, something that wasn't in Hogwarts: A History, and I still have no idea what you're talking about."

A ripple of laughter and snorts swept through the listening cast, and Hermione wrinkled her nose at Ron. "I've gone on holiday with my parents in Paris before, and I read a bit about French history..."

From somewhere within the group, an anonymous voice muttered, "You? Reading? Never!"

Hermione glanced around, but no one met her eye, as they were all studiously attempting to keep straight faces after the quiet quip. Huffing and rolling her eyes, she said, "Never mind that. It's just that what Ron said brings up a good point."

Ron blinked at her, his brows rising in surprise, and everyone gazed at her expectantly.

"If you had a hard time following what was going on with their play, perhaps others could say the same about ours." Frowns bloomed on faces all along the rows. Turning a purposeful gaze to the headmaster, Hermione said, "Sir, it never occurred to me until now that we should have programmes. Professor Snape and I had some when we went to London to see the play. If the Beauxbatons cast had made programmes for the audience, we would have been able to see when and where each scene was supposed to be taking place." She paused at the way Dumbledore's face lit up.

"Miss Granger, what a brilliant idea!" He immediately looked at Colin, beaming. "We can use the photo you used for the posters, and put it on the cover." Whipping his gaze back to Hermione, he said, "Miss Granger, do you still have a copy of the programme from London for comparison?"

Hermione blinked. Her voice faltering, she said, "No, sir. I didn't bring it back with me." At Dumbledore's crestfallen expression, she added, "But I can owl my parents and get one before Friday."

"Do that, Miss Granger, please. And Mr. Creevey, I'll need your original photo again." Nodding sharply at the boy, Dumbledore smiled again, bathing the cast in his excited pride. "I do hope you all enjoyed the Beauxbatons performance. It's amazing how well everyone has risen to the challenge. That being said, I still think we will win the competition, and this new programme idea, in addition to the posters and bio board, will set us apart from the other casts."

Everyone exchanged smiles and anticipatory glances. As they shifted and rustled, Dumbledore continued, "Very well then, run along and enjoy the rest of your evening. Wednesday will be a repeat of the same schedule as tonight, so we may watch the Durmstrang performance. Good night!"

Conversations buzzed again as they all exited the Hall in small groups, discussing the performance and the competition. As they spilled out into the corridor, McGonagall turned to Snape and said, "I do hope you'll keep me apprised of your progress, Severus. I look forward to seeing you set up elsewhere."

Snape flicked a glance toward Hermione where she was ascending the stairs, deep in conversation with Ginny, Harry, and several other Gryffindors. "Thank you, Minerva. I hope Thursday goes smoothly myself." With that, he inclined his head graciously and said, "Good night," before Disapparating.