65- Home Sweet Home?

Standard Disclaimer goes here.

Anuthor's Note: Deepest gratitude to Ladyofthemasque and Horserider for beta and feedback, and to all you lovely folk who keep reading, reviewing, and contacting me with requests for more. :) Now that term is over, I present you with the next installment of this labour of love, and I hope to get lots more done before Snapefest and Portus, even though work will be crazy for our Poker Classic. *crosses fingers, then uncrosses them, since that makes it hard to type* You lot rock my socks! *hugs and chocolate*

Chapter 65- Home Sweet Home?

Hermione pondered how she could possibly meet Snape to go with him to Spinner's End Thursday. Finally, late that night, after the Beauxbatons performance, she was struck with an idea. Smiling in the darkness, she silently thanked Dumbledore for giving her something to work with.

The next morning, Hermione purposefully strode up to McGonagall at the High Table during breakfast, politely offering greetings to Snape and the other professors who were there before saying, "Professor McGonagall, I have a proposition for you." Beaming winningly at the older woman, she noted Snape's eyes narrowing in curiosity.

McGonagall tilted her head in question and said, "What would that be, Miss Granger?"

Gesturing to the empty seat between McGonagall and Snape, Hermione said, "Professor Dumbledore wanted me to get a programme from my folks, and I said I'd owl them to ask for it. But, since it is the holiday, and we..." she waved her hand vaguely at the remaining cast members seated in the Hall, "...can't go home, I was hoping we might be allowed to go to Hogsmeade at least... for a break. I'm sure we could all use a diversion to keep us from getting too nervous about the Ministry performance, so Thursday would be perfect. And I could pop in on my parents to collect the programme, as I'm sure they could have one for me by then." She paused and sucked in a deep breath after delivering her speech in a rush.

In the silence that followed, McGonagall blinked rapidly, absorbing Hermione's request. Hermione flicked a furtive glance at Snape, whose eyes had widened again in surprised recognition of her ploy, and saw that his body had tensed in anticipation of McGonagall's response.

McGonagall looked up at Hermione, appraising her bright, eager face and hopeful posture. Feeling a rush of fondness for her Head Girl and prize pupil, she offered a prim smile and said, "Miss Granger, your reasoning is valid, and I would be happy to allow the cast a Hogsmeade outing." Hermione drew breath to gush in gratitude, but was cut off by McGonagall's hand rising between them in a gesture of warning. "Provided, however, that everyone is particularly careful to not overexert or overindulge, as we must all be in top form for Friday evening." She eyed Hermione sternly over her spectacles.

Hermione's eyes went round and she nodded vigorously. "Of course, Professor! I'll make sure everyone understands that completely."

McGonagall smiled more warmly and nodded. "Very well then. You may spread the word, and I will post it on the notice boards today."

Grinning broadly, Hermione said, "Thank you, Professor. Thank you so much!" Then, flicking a triumphant glance at Snape as she spun, she bounded down from the dais and back to the Gryffindor table, where she told the others the good news. A ripple of surprise was quickly followed by a crow of excitement, and the cast members all looked up at McGonagall, beaming their thanks. McGonagall nodded at them in acknowledgement, lips quirked in a pleased smile.

Beside her, Snape stared at his plate, taken aback by Hermione's initiative. How perfect! She can meet me and we can go to Spinner's End, and no one will be any the wiser... He shook his head faintly as he thought, That girl is definitely getting sneakier!

***** *****

The early dinner Wednesday evening was even more excited than Monday's, what with Durmstrang's Ministry performance to follow and the next day's Hogsmeade trip. Hermione was enjoying the cast's appreciation...albeit grudging from the Slytherins...for brainstorming the idea for the outing. Even Dumbledore had sought her out at dinner Tuesday night to praise her for her idea and to thank her once again for planning to retrieve the programme.

Hermione had already sent owls out to her parents, warning them of the impending visit, and to Snape, asking for details on how they could arrange the trip to Spinner's End. It was Snape's idea to have Hermione use the Floo connection at her parents' house to come straight to his after she Apparated there to collect the programme. Hermione was also looking forward to an opportunity to speak to her parents in private about how her mother should not accost Snape Friday night, as she had grievously disconcerted him the previous week. Snape didn't know about that part, but Hermione was determined to protect him and their nascent relationship.

When dinner was over, and Dumbledore shooed everyone out into the corridor, Ginny and Harry approached Hermione, arm in arm.

Grinning, Harry said, "Hey, 'Mione, you want to come to the Three Broomsticks tomorrow with us? I daresay a few butterbeers would go down a treat to quell any butterflies."

Hermione laughed, but shook her head. "No thanks. I'm going to be getting the programme from my folks, and I don't know how long I'll be there." She cast a meaningful glance at Ginny, whose brows rose in curiosity at Hermione's intimation that she could be "unavailable" for a while the next day. "If I manage to get back, I'll find you lot somewhere."

Ginny's eyes gleamed with anticipation of details later, and she quirked a half smile at Hermione, saying, "No worries." Then, she purposefully steered the conversation toward Durmstrang's impending performance and away from Hermione's activities for the next day.

When Dumbledore appeared in the doorway to the Hall, the cast eagerly responded to his summons to enter. Once again, the mirrors were placed along the stage, and the cast could hear the sounds of the audience in Durmstrang's theatre space. It wasn't long before the lights dimmed and music began, and everyone went silent.

It was immediately apparent to the Hogwarts cast that the main actors in the Durmstrang cast possessed no little talent, and, noting that they presented much stiffer competition for them than the Beauxbatons cast had, a frisson of unease swept over them. However, it didn't take long for them to be drawn into the performance, charmed by the quality of "Maria's" singing.

Bursts of laughter rang out at appropriate times, and heads bobbed in accompaniment to the catchy songs. As the first act ended, it was met with enthusiastic applause on both sides of the viewing mirrors. Lights came up for the intermission, and the Hogwarts cast exchanged significant looks, knowing that the Durmstrang cast had just raised the bar.

McGonagall sat pensively in her seat, lips pursed, until she finally said to no one in particular, "Durmstrang covers the same years of education as Hogwarts, doesn't it?"

Before anyone else could respond, Hermione piped up, "Oh yes, they're the same as we are. Viktor told me all about it in fourth year." She paused, flushing awkwardly at the variety of expressions turned her way. Ron and Harry smirked, several others simply looked exasperated at her "know-it-all" ways, and Snape flicked a scowl at her.

Caught up in her own thoughts, McGonagall retorted, "Then where did they get the children for those youngest in the Von Trapp family? They're clearly younger than eleven." Indignation coloured her tone as she added, "This competition is supposed to be among the schools, and those children can't be students there yet!"

Neville's voice was anxious as he said, "Do you think they're breaking the rules, Professor?"

Before she could answer, Snape cut in, "That is a matter for the Ministry to decide, not us. And, even if they were determined to have broken some rules...although I don't recall seeing any rules to speak of...and were disqualified, that would have no bearing on how well we perform." He paused, glaring haughtily around at the cast. "Headmaster Bosek has clearly led his cast to perform quite well, and we must focus on surpassing them, no matter what." He cast another stern glare over them, satisfied at their slow nods of acknowledgement. When he looked at McGonagall, she was frowning, but she shrugged irritably.

"Of course, you're right, Severus, but I'm still curious about who those young children are."

At that, Snape actually smiled mischievously. "Well, if they had provided programmes, we could satisfy your curiosity. But, alas, they have not." He punctuated his words with a mock-regretful sigh, and several students chuckled, grinning broadly at each other that their show would surpass the others in that respect.

The lights began to dim again, and they all settled down for the second act, some still smirking with self-satisfaction.

The mood of the second act turned more serious, leaving the sprightly tunes of the first act behind. There were fewer laughs, but the audience was rapt, watching intently as the pathos of the budding relationship between the Captain and Maria drew them in. Then, as the tension mounted with the Captain shying away from the expectations of the ascendant Nazi regime, a silence so profound you could hear a pin drop permeated the theatres in both schools.

By the time the play ended, there were muffled sounds of sniffling and damp eyes scattered throughout the audience. As soon as the lights came back up on the cast taking their curtain call, the Hogwarts cast shot to their feet, almost as one, deeply impressed by the Durmstrang performance.

Wild applause and cheers greeted the actress who played Maria as she emerged onstage to join her Captain. Beside Snape, McGonagall clapped fiercely, leaning closer to Snape to murmur through the tumult, "Amazing performance! Why, I think she may even rival our Miss Granger..."

Snape whipped around to pin her with a narrow-eyed scowl. He opened his mouth for a heated retort, but snapped it shut again before he could say anything too suspicious. McGonagall merely flicked a bemused glance at him as she continued her applause. Mastering himself, Snape finally said, "Why, Minerva, I'm surprised to hear you say that. Surely you don't mean we should be worried, do you?"

Brows rising, McGonagall turned a smug smirk on Snape and said, "Nonsense. While that young lady may be quite on par with Miss Granger, no one else in their cast compared to you, Severus." She inclined her head toward him fondly, and Snape blinked, taken aback.

Ducking his head, Snape turned his attention back to the Durmstrang cast, who were politely vacating the stage to allow the same Ministry official who had given a speech after the Beauxbatons performance to ascend the stage and give what amounted to a repeat performance. When he left the stage, the cast followed, and conversation erupted in the audience.

Dumbledore set about ending the connection through the mirrors, and the Hogwarts cast slowly exited their seats, discussing the performance. Before anyone could exit the Hall, Hermione paused and announced, "Don't forget, everyone, Professor McGonagall has been gracious enough to allow us to visit Hogsmeade tomorrow, but we must be careful not to overindulge ourselves, since we have to wow the Ministry Friday night!" She nodded in gratitude to McGonagall, and the other students all nodded or gestured to acknowledge both McGonagall's reprieve and Hermione's warning. With that, the cast filed out of the Hall, excited about the next day.

***** *****

Thursday morning, the cast went to breakfast fairly early, eager to get a head start on their holiday outing. Hermione cast a knowing look at Snape as she followed her mates out of the Hall to the grounds. Snape Apparated to his quarters, gathered his notes for his meetings with Fern Campbell and with contractors, and Flooed to Spinner's End, intent upon being ready for any arrivals, including Hermione.

Once Hermione and the rest of her cast mates were through the gates, Hermione turned to her friends and said, "Look, I'm going to just Apparate home from here. I want to make sure I can get that programme and see my folks. I'll catch up with you later. Have fun in Hogsmeade!" She beamed at them, stepping away and Disapparating before anyone could say much more than "bye."

Certain that no one would be in her room to get in her way, Hermione Apparated into the middle of her floor, between her bed and closet. Carefully peering out into the hallway, she called, "Mum? Dad? It's me. I'm home."

A startled "Hermione?" rang out from downstairs, and she began her descent, only to be met by her parents charging out of the kitchen to goggle up at her.

Smiling at them as she bounded down the stairs, she said, "I'm glad you're home. I wasn't sure if you'd be at work or not."

Her parents exchanged a look and her father said, "Well, when you owled us that you would likely be coming by, we decided to open late. It's a holiday week, so we weren't busy anyway. I just didn't expect you to show up in your room!"

Hermione laughed. "Well, I knew nothing could be in my way, and I didn't have to worry about anyone seeing me either." She reached them and gave them quick hugs of greeting.

As she released her mother, the older woman said, "Well, what did you do when you and Severus came for dinner?"

Hermione frowned, her eyes narrowing at hearing her Snape's name on her mother's lips again. Curtly, she said, "Professor Snape cast a concealment charm before we Apparated here. We hid in the shadows before becoming visible again. Surely you remember us doing that in front of the hearth when we left?"

Her father nodded and her mother uttered an affirming noise. Hermione continued in a cool voice, "I could have done the same thing, but why bother? This was just easier." Then, easing past her parents, she stalked into the kitchen and plopped at the table. As her parents entered, she asked, "Do you have the programme for me? I need to get it back to Professor Dumbledore so he can get the programmes made for the show tomorrow night."

Her father smiled and crossed to the counter by the telephone. Brandishing it at her, he strode over and sank into a seat beside her at the table. "All yours! I drove by the theatre after work and picked one up for you."

Relaxing a trifle, she smiled back and said, "Thanks, Dad. We're doing everything we can to make sure we win!"

Her mother leant against a counter and said, "How were the other schools' performances? What did they do?"

"Beauxbatons did Les Miserables, and Durmstrang did The Sound of Music. Several of us had a hard time following Beauxbatons' show because of their accents, and they didn't have programmes to help us know what was going on either. But last night..." she paused, her eyes going round in remembered awe, "...the Durmstrang show was amazing! We're really going to have to bring our A game to surpass them."

Her father covered her hand where it clutched the programme and murmured, "You'll all do wonderfully. I'm sure of it!"

Crossing to add her encouragement, her mother patted her shoulder and said, "Your father's right. I doubt anyone could possibly be as good as you are."

Hermione smiled gratefully at their support, but she sighed and said, "I don't know about that. The girl who played Maria was fantastic! I don't think I could have done better. She really stood out."

Her mother piped up, "I'm sure you're just being modest, dear. Besides, Hogwarts doesn't just have you; there's Severus, too!"

Hermione stiffened under her mother's hand, and she scowled again. Both parents drew back, blinking in confusion at her swift change in demeanour. Hermione's voice was sharp as she said, "Mum, stop that!"

Taken aback, her mother backed away, and her father released her hand, sitting back in his chair, looking between the two women, bewildered. Slowly, he said, "Stop what, Hermione?"

Hermione crossed her arms defensively and glowered, pursing her lips. Finally, glancing balefully at her oblivious parents, she growled, "Stop gushing over Professor Snape! It's ridiculous for a grown woman to behave in such a fashion."

Her mother gasped, her hand fluttering to her throat as she goggled at her daughter. At the same time, her father frowned, drawing up sternly as he said, "Apologize to your mother this instant, young lady. You are not to talk to your mother like that, do you understand?"

Hermione fumed, her jaw throbbing as she ground her teeth. After a moment of charged silence, her face crumpled and she wailed, "But it's so embarrassing! Have you any idea how mortified I was when Professor Snape told me how discomfiting it was to have you hanging all over him and all but throwing yourself at him?"

An inarticulate explosion of denial burst from Mrs. Granger's throat, and she stared at Hermione, aghast. "What? I did no such thing! I was merely expressing my appreciation of his mesmeric performance!" She turned appealing, humiliated eyes to her husband, who was watching her with a sympathetic expression. "Geoff...I wasn't that bad, was I?"

Mr. Granger rose to comfort his shaken wife, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and squeezing. "There, there. I know you didn't mean anything by it, but apparently Professor Snape was overwhelmed by your enthusiasm." He turned back to Hermione and said, his voice low, "What did he say, Hermione?"

Hermione's face was burning, and she couldn't meet her father's eyes as she mumbled, "He said she had been clinging to him and even touched him, and he was rather shaken by it all. I wanted to dissolve into the very ground when he told me."

Mrs. Granger squeaked in pained protest. "How could he think I meant anything by it? I'm married, for mercy's sake! I was there with my husband to see our daughter! I was just trying to be supportive!"

Hermione shrugged miserably, staring at the linoleum. Her father continued to soothe her mother, until he eventually went quiet, and the silence swelled awkwardly.

Taking a deep breath, Mr. Granger cleared his throat and said, "Well, he did come off as rather a reserved fellow. I guess he just isn't used to your kind of frankness, dear." He hugged his wife again before returning to his seat by Hermione. "We'll be sure to be more circumspect in our congratulations next time, all right, Hermione?"

Feeling somewhat ashamed of herself as her angry outburst had subsided, Hermione nodded, saying, "Yes. Thanks. I'm sorry I yelled, Mum."

Mrs. Granger, whose face was still pink with embarrassment, crossed her arms as if hugging herself and muttered, "And I'm sorry I embarrassed you with your professor."

Another awkward silence fell, and Hermione stood. "Well, I'd better get going. I'll see you tomorrow night. Thank you for getting me the programme."

Her father rose, patting her arm as she edged past him to leave the kitchen. "No problem. Are you going to Apparate back?" His voice betrayed his deliberate attempt to restore normalcy to their conversation. "I don't know how you handle that, Hermione. It was the strangest, most uncomfortable feeling I've ever experienced. Felt like I was literally put through the wringer!" His joking smile was a bit forced, but Hermione was grateful for his effort.

"I don't know if it's very different for Muggles or not, but you get used to it, particularly as it's so useful." She led them into the living room and stopped in front of the fireplace. "But, I'm not leaving that way this time. Since you're hooked up to the Floo still, I'm going to use that instead." Closing the distance to her father, she gave him a quick hug, then looked at her mother anxiously. When Mrs. Granger opened her arms, Hermione rushed over to hug her too, penitence written on her face. "See you tomorrow night. Thanks again."

Her mother stepped back, her smile tremulous, but she nodded and said, "See you later, dear. Love you."

Hermione reached into her pocket for Floo powder and said, "Love you, too," as she threw it into the hearth. Her parents both gasped as the emerald flames leapt from the cold grate. Stepping in, Hermione said, "Spinner's End," and whirled from view, leaving them to gape at her departure.

***** *****

Hermione emerged into a tumult of activity; she voiced a startled cry as she ducked away from the group of people crammed into Snape's living room, flattening herself against the wall behind the chaotic crowd.

Somehow, six separate contractors had managed to arrive, with one or two assistants in tow each, at virtually the same time that morning. Snape hadn't even had time to properly greet each group as they arrived, nearly crowding into each other in the Floo and tumbling out to fill his living room. The squabbling that ensued among the group as rivals met and demanded explanations overwhelmed Snape; he had been staring about, stunned to silence by the unexpected turn of events.

Snape, surrounded by contractors, saw the flash of green from the hearth and spun, barely able to hear Hermione's squawk over the others' raised voices.

When he saw Hermione stumbling to one side, crouching away from wildly gesturing hands as she slid along the wall past the arguing mass, he went hot with a flash of frustration and annoyance and drew himself up, sucking in a deep breath.

His stentorian roar for silence echoed in the vacant house, and the cacophony abated into a dazed quiet. The contractors whipped around to stare at their possible client; several went pale and backed away from the barely-contained fury sparking in Snape's eyes. All were frozen in wariness, except Hermione, who had already crept past the group and into the dining room, leaving Snape to deal with the startled workers.

Snape turned in one spot, pinning each person with an icy glare in turn. Then, his voice dangerously low...Hermione recalled how foreboding that voice was from Potions class...he said, "I have brought you here to determine whether or not I wish to avail myself of your services. I assure you, based on witnessing such behaviour, I no longer believe that I should use any of you. What kind of manners were you taught? How could any of you think that this is professional behaviour? If you cannot restrain yourselves and behave in a civilized, professional manner, you are welcome to leave. Now. The Floo is currently clear." He paused, raking them with another chastising glare. No one moved except to shift their weight awkwardly, chastened.

"Very well then. I will deal with each of you momentarily. Excuse me." He stepped toward the dining room, pleased that they parted before him to let him through. Hermione had continued into the kitchen, and was leaning against the counter, her expression one of suppressed amusement and anxiety. As Snape poked his head in and saw her, his expression melted into one of abject relief.

Rolling his eyes at the scene they had just witnessed, he crossed to her and murmured, "What could I have been thinking to think this was a good idea?"

Hermione smiled and said, "Well, at least you don't have to worry about whether or not they're intimidated by you. Poor sods. I thought a couple of them were about to wet their pants when you yelled." She giggled and Snape favoured her with a sour grimace.

"Very funny. Fern Campbell should be arriving later, so I hope to finish with this lot before then. Would you like to accompany me as I meet with them? I already told you I'd value your input." He gazed at her solemnly, his eyes wistful.

Hermione held up a finger and ducked past him, sneaking out where she could observe the crowd. They were all giving each other the hairy eyeball and muttering amongst themselves, so none of them saw her. After a few seconds, Hermione gasped, jerking back and rushing into the kitchen, eyes wide in her white face.

Snape instantly drew her to him, alert for some menace. "What? What's wrong?" He peered about, looking for what could have possibly frightened her.

Hermione hissed, "I can't go out there! I've met some of them! They know who I am! We can't risk them seeing me with you, in your house, and asking questions!"

Snape's eyes widened in consternation. "Who? How do you know them?"

"I met some of them after the Final Battle. When celebrations were going on all over the place, several of my classmates had parties, and we were invited. One of the assistants is a cousin of Seamus Finnigan! Seamus was quite proud to introduce us to his family, so I'm pretty sure he would recognize me. I can't be seen!"

Snape's brow furrowed in thought. He peered back out at the group, then muttered, "What if you looked different? Can't we change your appearance somehow? You're a woman; surely you know how to do glamours, don't you?"

Hermione tamped back her indignant reaction to his sexist comment in light of their predicament. "I've always been more interested in important things, but I can try something, I guess." Heaving a sigh, she swallowed hard and pointed her wand at her hair. Muttering an incantation and describing a pattern with the wand, she closed her eyes and cringed as the spell took effect.

Snape backed away in surprise. Her hair had suddenly darkened to an almost blue-black, as had her eyebrows. It was quite disconcerting, as her skin tone was too fair to match such colouring. Then, before she opened her eyes, she dropped her wand to her face and mumbled something else. Scrunching up her face at the sensation, she opened her eyes cautiously and saw Snape staring at her in fascination. Her eyes were as black as his!

She looked up at him anxiously and said, "Well?"

Snape was at a loss. Not sure of what to say, he simply conjured a mirror and held it out. Hermione hesitated lifting it, and when she looked at her reflection, she hastily clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her squeak of astonishment.

The blackness of her hair and eyes made her look paler, and she had a hard time believing it was her true reflection. Glancing at Snape, her eyes widened, and she realized she resembled him. Swallowing hard again, she said, her voice shaky, "Erm... I think it's passable. Don't you?" Snape nodded slowly. Then, unable to hold it back, she burst forth with, "I look like I'm related to you!"

Snape's snort and her strangled chuckle broke the tension, and she ran a tentative hand over her hair, almost as if afraid the black would come off on her hands. Then, in an attempt to be even more different than her usual look, she twisted her curls into a tight bun, tucking the ends into itself, and making her appearance even more severe.

Snape nodded and said, "Good. Who shall you be?"

Hermione shrugged extravagantly and said, "I don't know; pick something!"

Exhaling sharply through his nose, Snape muttered, "Fine, you'll just be 'Jane.' Leave it at that. No sense in providing more details when it's not necessary. Remember?"

Hermione smirked and tilted her head. "Yes, of course. Slytherin Rule Number One, wasn't it?"

Snape snorted and flashed a relieved and amused grin at her. "Not Number One, but definitely in the top five." Squeezing her arm in gratitude and encouragement, he continued, "Come, let's get this over with."

When they crossed the threshold into the living room again, it was clear that every person there had taken Snape's words to heart, and they were met with politely attentive faces. Hermione furtively eyed Seamus's cousin, but the man betrayed no flicker of recognition. Thus comforted, Hermione just listened as Snape outlined how he would meet with each company's representatives.

Trailing after Snape like his smaller, feminine shadow, Hermione enjoyed hearing both Snape's plans and the contractors' responses. Thankfully, no one really paid much attention to her, save a few who merely asked her name and greeted her cordially before turning their attention back to the potential job. After several trips through the house, from attic to back garden, plus plans for a basement, Hermione began to let her mind wander beyond the task at hand and into what the place must have been like when Snape was a child there.

After a few hours, Snape had finished his consultations and sent the contractors off with the promise of contacting them when he had made his decision. Once they were gone, Snape's shoulders sagged and he sighed wearily.

Spinning to see Hermione leaning against the doorjamb to the dining room, he smiled and said, "Thank you. As harrowing as that was, it would have been much more bothersome without you here."

Hermione quirked a lopsided grin and said, "Even including the panic?" as she gestured to her altered colouring.

Chuckling, Snape crossed to her and fingered an escaped curl, eyeing its inky shade thoughtfully. "It is odd to see you like this." Then, he added, his voice tinged with worry, "It will reverse, won't it? I mean, we have the show tomorrow night."

Hermione straightened, chewing her bottom lip and worrying her hands. "I think so. It's supposed to be temporary. Should I reverse it now? Or wait until after Fern is gone too?"

Snape nodded. "Mmm... perhaps you should wait. Hopefully she'll be here any moment now." He cast an anxious glance at the hearth. In the silence that followed his remark, Hermione's stomach growled audibly. Snape's head whipped around to Hermione, his brows high with amusement at her flushed cheeks.

Defensively, she grumbled, "What? Breakfast was hours ago! Aren't you hungry?"

Snape chuckled again and gestured for her to follow him into the kitchen. He pulled out a box of water biscuits and a jar of jam, presenting them to her with a flourish before setting them on the counter and getting a spoon from a drawer. Smiling, he said, "It's not much, but it's something until we can get somewhere for some real food."

They took turns spooning strawberry jam onto the biscuits and eating them, Hermione pausing long enough to rummage through the cupboards for a glass. Filling it from the tap, she drank, gazing at Snape over the rim of the glass, feeling a peaceful sort of happiness spreading through her at sharing such a simple repast with him in his re-acquired home.

Snape felt her regard and locked eyes with her. They slowly ate a few more bites before Snape closed the distance between them and drew her into a tender kiss. The flavour of strawberries made their kiss even sweeter, but before it could evolve into something more, they were interrupted by a voice from the living room calling, "Mr. Snape?"

Jerking away, eyes wide in wary anticipation, Snape called back, "Coming!" Running a hand through his hair to smooth it, he tilted his head toward the living room and squeezed Hermione's hand as he tugged her along with him.

They emerged into the living room to see Fern Campbell patiently waiting for them, gazing about at the empty room. Her appearance was quite different from theirs: of average height, she wore an embroidered peasant blouse and a long, full, wrinkled skirt. Her hair was brown with sun streaks, with several tiny beaded braids atop long, wavy locks. The striped head scarf that held her hair away from her face was knotted behind one ear, leaving the long tails to hang down her back, multicoloured fringe at the ends.

Hermione was struck with the impression of a strange combination of Trelawney and Luna, based on the collection of beaded necklaces and bracelets the woman sported and the decided air of dottiness surrounding her like an aura. Blinking several times, as if the strange apparition might change, Hermione flicked a glance at Snape, noticing his bewildered expression. Readying herself to jump into the fray, should Snape not rise to the occasion, she paused when he did.

Fern turned to face them, a smile lighting her face as she crossed the short distance to Snape, her hand outstretched. "Mr. Snape, I'm so pleased to meet you."

Snape shook the proffered hand mechanically, managing to say, "Ms. Campbell, welcome to my home."

Before Snape could release her, she clasped both hands around his hand and made a moue of entreaty. "Oh, please, call me Fern. Ms. Campbell seems so stodgy."

Snape blinked, discomfited, then said, "Fern it is."

She beamed at him again, then looked beyond him to Hermione. Letting go of Snape's hand, she stepped smartly past him to greet Hermione. "Hello. I'm Fern. What's your name?"

Hermione was taken aback by the childlike candour in the older woman's grey eyes, but replied, "Jane. Nice to meet you, Fern."

Fern clasped her hands, her bracelets jingling and clattering, and spun back to encompass them both in her sunny smile. "How lovely. Now, why don't we get to business?" She glanced around, then tilted her head at Snape. "Haven't you any cushions to sit on?"

Snape shook his head. "I have no furniture in the house yet. First I must get the renovations finished, then I can outfit it. I could conjure up some chairs if you like." His voice dropped as he added, "Wizards can do that, you know."

Fern regarded him with wide eyes and said, "Of course, but that would be a bit too much work. I don't mind the floor." With that, she dropped gracefully to sit cross-legged on the carpet, depositing her macramé bag in her lap and peering expectantly up at Snape and Hermione.

They exchanged significant looks, and Hermione decided to defuse Snape's growing irritation and anxiety by saying, "Cushions were certainly a good idea, Fern." Then, pulling bits of lint from her jumper, she transfigured them into large floor cushions, dropping them to the floor in a triangle before sinking onto one. Fern happily clambered onto hers. Snape, face stoic, hesitated for a long moment before he finally lowered himself to the cushion with more grace than Hermione was expecting under the circumstances.

Taking a deep breath, Snape launched into the interview, crisply asking, "Now, Fern, could you tell me a bit more about what it is you're planning for this 'fledgling business' of yours?"

Fern clasped her hands and rested her elbows on her knees, propping her chin on her hands to gaze intently at Snape. "Well, I enjoy cultivating plants, particularly magical ones, and while that sort of business is certainly an option, it's not a particularly feasible one without plenty of land and hands to tend it. So, I thought: why not tailor that cultivation to those items that are especially useful in potions, and then sell them? The only problem there is that I would have had to not only grow the plants, but then create the potions, and I'm not well-practiced at that. That is where you come in, Mr. Snape." She smiled at him, the dimple in one cheek suddenly very noticeable and giving her grin an even more lopsided charm.

Snape inclined his head, shifting on the cushion. "Yes, well... What sort of potions were you thinking of brewing?"

At that, her eyes lit up, and she sat up straight again, her hands flopping into her lap. "Oh! I'd love to create a line of cosmetic and health potions...both topical and ingestible...but work to make them as all-natural and environmentally friendly as possible. See, in the Muggle world, most health and beauty items have so many chemicals..." Her animated manner faltered, and she trailed off at the wide-eyed look of horror on Snape's face.

Hermione snapped her attention to Snape as soon as the woman said "cosmetics," knowing what his reaction would be. She held her breath, hoping he would manage to keep his snark under control and not jeopardize this opportunity.

Snape's nostrils flared, and he swallowed hard, his lips thinning. Fern, unsure of what was bothering him, forged on earnestly, "Oh, and I want to help women feel vibrant and beautiful even though they are busier than ever nowadays. I mean, when women were expected to stay home all the time, they could spend time making their own potions to suit their needs, but in today's world, with the modern woman, they need convenience and quality, since their time is too valuable to spend on what some call frivolous pursuits. But, every woman likes to feel more vital and alluring, strong and feminine, regardless of how demanding their job is, competing in a man's world..."

Snape's expression went stony, and Fern trailed off in uncertainty again. Hermione could sense the indignation bubbling within him and reached out to touch his arm lightly, drawing his attention. When he whipped his gaze to her, she murmured, "Might I have a word with you?" Then, she turned appealingly to Fern and said, "We'll be just a moment." Tightening her grip on his arm, she tugged, eyeing him urgently. He scowled at her but stood, stalking through the dining room into the kitchen.

Hermione shot to her feet and scrambled after him. When he wheeled around on her in the kitchen, she pressed a finger to her lips for him to keep his voice down, then tilted her head at the door to the back garden. With a muted growl, Snape flung the door open and stomped out. Hermione followed more circumspectly, glancing around for any neighbours who might be around. Seeing no one, she furtively cast Muffliato around them anyway, just to be safe.

Snape was standing ramrod straight, his arms crossed tightly across his chest, fairly bristling with annoyance.

Her voice low, as if trying to gentle an upset animal, Hermione said, "Severus, please..."

His lip curling, Snape spat, "Please, what? You can't honestly expect me to subject myself to such inane drivel!"

Hermione closed her eyes in a bid for patience and said, in a deliberate voice, "Yes, I can." She opened her eyes to see him glaring at her in offence. "Listen for a moment." Holding his gaze, she saw him bridle, then lift one eyebrow in reluctant acquiescence. "There is nothing wrong with the types of potions she's talking about! Not everyone is going to need Wolfsbane, you know." Her sardonic tone made him grimace, sulking. "Besides, she's just starting out. This is your chance to guide her; give her sound advice. Once you can do what she wants, you can take the opportunity to show her what else you can do, and expand the business!

"Why not establish the company as one that can deliver quality goods first, even if they're trifles compared with what you're used to, and then look to provide specialty potions...the kinds that are rarer to need and therefore harder to find when you do need them. Starting a new business is hard; so why risk your own money to make your own, when you can take this position and not have to shoulder the responsibility for once? Don't dismiss it out of hand because of your pride and arrogance."

At that, Snape drew up, "Arrogance?" bursting from his lips.

Hermione crossed her arms and straightened, brows rising to regard him with an "oh, please" expression. They locked eyes for a long moment, until finally Hermione tilted her head and sighed, rolling her eyes, and Snape backed down, scowling petulantly.

Quirking a faint smile, Hermione stepped closer and laid a hand on his forearm. "Come on, Severus, I'm not being insulting. You can be arrogant, and I can be a know-it-all. It's just our natures." Her smile widening, she added, "I still love you, arrogant or not."

Snape blinked, taken aback by her declaration in the midst of his lolling in his wounded vanity. Gazing into her teasing eyes, he finally relaxed, letting go of his frustration. When the buzzing anger dissipated, he actually began to consider her statements.

Well. She's really got a point there. Several, to be quite honest.

Hermione could feel his tension draining and beamed at him in approval. "Come. Let's go back inside and you can tell Fern what you've planned for the laboratory, and see if she needs anything special."

Snape heaved one last sigh of ruffled pride before nodding for Hermione to lead the way.

Fortunately, Fern had regained her equilibrium while they were outside, and she gazed up at them pleasantly, her expression one of polite expectation as they sat down again. "Is there anything else you wish to know, Mr. Snape?"

Snape lifted one finger and said, "Actually, it's more of what you need to know. I have plans for a basement laboratory to be built, and I will be selecting the contractors today, to begin work soon. However, I would need to know if the current plans are sufficient for your requirements." He pulled the scroll from his pocket and brandished it.

"Oh! I'd love to see the plans. Although, I'll tell you right now, based on your background, you're clearly the expert on these matters, so I'd be more inclined to trust your judgment."

Hermione caught Snape's eye and flashed him an encouraging and triumphant look that practically screamed, See? I told you!

Matters proceeded more smoothly from that point, and Hermione effaced herself as they began to talk work expectations and salary. Because of the delay until the renovations could be done, and the remainder of his current contract at Hogwarts, it was determined that his new employment would begin the first week of July, and Fern would spend the intervening time coming up with the plan of what potions she wanted to have made, how they would be advertised or sold to retailers, and laying up stocks of the necessary ingredients.

For all her appearance of flightiness, Fern proved to be articulate and sharp in the discussions and negotiations, and Hermione could see Snape mellowing and beginning to treat her with more natural respect, like an equal rather than one who was humouring the crazy lady. Her heart lifted at such positive signs, and she took to daydreaming, wondering how the house would be furnished and decorated when all was said and done.

Finally, Fern and Snape concluded their lengthy interview, and Fern left, with several to-do lists to keep her busy. In the lull following her departure, Hermione watched Snape from behind, waiting for him to break the silence. His shoulders were visibly tense again, but he took a deep breath and let it sough out, dropping his shoulders and letting his head hang forward in an attempt to ease the strain. After a long moment, during which he seemed to mentally shift gears, he lifted his head and spun to face Hermione.

His expression went from worn out to a grimace as he looked at her. Eyeing her askance, he said, "All right. Time to get rid of that look. It's disturbing."

Hermione made a face, then laughed. "Gee, thanks. I'd rather not look like I'm related to you anyway." Wrinkling her nose and winking at him mischievously, she lifted her wand and closed her eyes, concentrating on the counterspells. Even with her eyes closed, she knew she was successful by Snape's relieved sigh. Carefully opening her eyes again, she looked up to see Snape gazing at her, pleased.

"Much better. There's my bushy-haired Gryffindor." His tone was both tender and playful, and he smirked at her glare of mock-outrage. Closing the distance between them, he cupped her head in his hands and kissed her, picking up where they had left off in the kitchen.

When she pulled away after a long moment, Hermione smiled and said, "I'm so glad I was able to come here. Your home is going to be lovely, dearest."

Pressing his forehead against hers, Snape whispered, "Only if you're in it as well, love." He kissed her again, then lifted his head, looking around and finally tilting his face up, as if gazing through the ceiling to the floors above. His eyes were narrowed in thought as he looked back at Hermione. Sliding one hand down her arm to grasp her hand, he murmured, "Come," leading the way out of the living room into the hallway and up the stairs.

They went past all of the rooms, coming to the end of the hallway where the pull-down stairs to the attic were. Snape stared up at the panel for a moment before pulling them down again.

Hermione had waited in the hallway when Snape had led the contractors to climb halfway up the stairs so he could enumerate the work he wanted done to the space. Now, Snape ascended, then ducked his head and beckoned for Hermione to join him. Hermione followed him into the dusty, shadowy space, nose itching at the musty odours and the sight of dust motes floating lazily in shafts of sunlight through the roof vents.

Snape stood, his arms wrapped around himself, his face a brown study. He didn't meet her questioning eyes as he spoke. "This is where I spent most of my time at home. 'Out of sight, out of mind' meant peace to me when it came to my parents." He snapped his gaze to hers when he felt Hermione lay a comforting hand on his arm. The sympathy and love in her eyes soothed him, and he determined that he would break the painful thrall the attic had over him.

His expression softened, but Hermione couldn't fathom what was behind his eyes in the shadows. "I kept a cot up here then. I wish it were still here now." At Hermione's questioning look, he pulled out his wand and muttered, "Accio cushions." After a moment, the cushions Hermione had transfigured for his interview with Fern flew up the stairs and dropped to the attic floor, sending up clouds of dust to dance in the thin beams of light.

Hermione backed away as Snape crouched, arranging the cushions. Then, when he knelt on one and reached for her, she stepped closer to him, allowing his hands to circle her waist. His face peered up at her from just above her belly as he clutched her tighter.

Snape's voice was low and coaxing as he said, "Join me." He paused to nuzzle his face between her breasts, making her gasp in comprehension.

A tingle radiated out from her breasts to her centre, ending in a throb, and she dropped to the cushions with him, her desire mounting to match his. He held her close, his hands roaming down her back and legs, pressing her forward to grind against his growing erection. Their tender kisses quickly evolved into hungry, devouring snogging, their excitement becoming more and more heady.

Snape lowered Hermione to lie on the cushions, shoving her jumper up, scrabbling behind her to unfasten her bra. Hermione's moans and squeals were muted, as she felt like their liaison was secretive and somehow of great import.

It didn't take long for them to wrestle themselves free of constricting clothing, and Hermione struggled to reach him, wanting to feel his cock pulsing in her hand, but he kept manoeuvring away, his hands and lips trailing over her body, tasting her nipples and caressing the slick curls between her thighs.

Her sharp gasp seemed echoingly loud when he gripped her knees, spreading her legs, and dipped his head to trace his tongue along her cleft. His answering groan was muffled against her flesh, and he released her knees to slide his hands up her thighs, stroking her pussy lips with his thumbs and opening her further.

Head swimming with the rush of lust and sensation, Hermione tangled her fingers in his hair, holding him there while she shuddered at the feel of his lips and tongue suckling her clit. But when she felt one long finger delve into her, she released his hair in favour of gripping her own, her head canting back and a ragged moan bursting from her throat.

Snape backed away on his knees, sitting back on his heels as he fluttered his finger inside her. Her eyes were screwed shut and her panting breaths made her breasts jiggle. A flare of heat washed over him, ending in his cock, which bounced with the desire to fill her. Remembering his promise to himself and to her, he staved off the urge by wrapping his other hand around his erection, stroking.

Hermione opened her eyes to see Snape watching her intently, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips as he fucked her with one hand while pumping his fist along his hard cock. She shuddered anew when his lips spread wider into a feral grin and he purred, "Come for me, Hermione."

One hand crept down her belly to play with her clit, and Snape hummed approvingly, stroking himself faster. The combination of his finger stroking her G-spot and her own fingers dancing over her clit drove her toward her peak, and Snape settled into a rhythm with both hands.

When he felt her cunt squeezing around his finger, he urged, "Yes, Hermione. Come for me." Her answering writhing and gasping sent a flash of sensation through his cock, and his balls contracted. With a hitching breath, he rasped, "Come with me..."

Hermione peered down her body at him and saw his face contort into the familiar rictus of pleasure; it was the final piece needed to send her over the edge in orgasm.

They both shuddered, Hermione bucking against Snape's hand and Snape convulsing as come bubbled up, dripping over his knuckles. Aftershocks kept them trembling until Snape gingerly withdrew his finger from her, and he flicked his coated hand, murmuring a cleansing spell as he collapsed beside her, sprawling over the edge of the cushions to rest half-on and half-off.

In the silence following their tumultuous encounter, Hermione listened to their breathing slowing. After several moments, Snape cleared his throat, murmuring softly, "Definitely a better memory to override others."

Hermione smiled, chuckling to herself. She wanted to lie there and doze off with him, but she knew he couldn't really be comfortable in his position, and she could tell by the angle of the light beams that the day was waning. She had to get back to Hogsmeade before anyone started to question her long absence. Reaching for his hand, she twined fingers with him, squeezing lightly. He squeezed back, then rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow and gazing down at her.

"You're thinking of leaving. I can feel it."

Hermione made a moue of frustration. "It's getting late, and I should get back to Hogsmeade. I have to give the programme to Dumbledore." His eyes narrowed in pique and she caressed his cheek in apology. "I don't want to leave you. Ever. But we both know it's time for me to return." She smiled when he moved to nip at her fingertips, kissing them before she let her hand drop again.

"Thank you for coming here today. I don't even want to think about how horrid it all would have been without you here." He leant down and kissed her. "And I'm glad you like the house. I hope you like it enough to make it your own."

His body tensed at the end of that statement, and he eyed her with ill-concealed trepidation. Hermione felt her chest and throat tighten with love, and moisture pricked at her eyelids as she said, "If you're here, I like it enough to help make it ours, Severus."

Swallowing hard, eyes closing in relief, Snape swooped in to kiss her again, devotion on his lips. Finally, he backed away, sighing regretfully. "You're right. It's getting late. Let's dress, and you can Apparate to Hogsmeade. Unless you prefer to use the Floo to the Three Broomsticks?"

Hermione shook her head as she sat up, gathering her discarded clothing. "I'd rather Apparate. It's much cleaner, and no one need take notice of my arrival and ask awkward questions." Snape nodded in agreement, dressing quickly.

They started to descend the stairs, but Hermione turned back, pointing at the cushions. "Shall I dispose of them or..."

Snape fought to suppress a grin, saying, "No. I rather like them there now."

Blushing in spite of herself, Hermione turned back, smirking as she continued down the stairs.

They went into the kitchen, Snape clearing their snack and Hermione retrieving the programme. When he had finished cleaning the counter, Hermione stepped closer and wrapped him in a tight embrace, pressing her face against his chest. He dropped a kiss on her head and held her.

"I love you, Severus." Her voice was muffled against his clothes.

"And I, you, my love." He gently disengaged from her, lifting her chin with one finger. "Run along now. I'll see you tomorrow for the show." He caressed her hair, then quirked a smile, twirling a curl in his fingers. "And it's a good thing your glamour charms worked and reversed correctly."

Hermione snorted. "Indeed." Stepping a few paces away from him, she smiled. "See you tomorrow, dearest." He inclined his head, and she Disapparated, leaving him alone in his kitchen.

Snape heaved a sigh as he crossed back into the living room. Tossing a pinch of Floo powder into the hearth, he said, "Potions Master's quarters, Hogwarts," and stepped into the green flames, spinning out of sight.