Part Two, Day Three

Still no money made out of this.

Thanks to my beta, Dacian Goddess.

Neither Severus nor Hermione had slept well in spite of their tiredness. Any doubt they might have still had about their mutual attraction had been swept away by their heated kisses in front of Hermione's door. They had both tossed and turned in their beds, wondering not if but when they would sleep, in every meaning of the word, together.

A bleary-eyed headmaster, accompanied by an equally bleary-eyed personal aide, made his entrance in the Great Hall for breakfast in the morning. Most of the teachers were already there. They observed Hermione and Severus for proofs of sexual activities, but apart from looking very tired, they could draw no positive conclusion on the matter.

"Hello, Hermione."

Severus did a double-take. He had not noticed there was a guest at the staff table. Neville Longbottom was sitting near Pomona Sprout and inviting his erstwhile classmate to sit down near him.

"Hermione is my personal aide, Longbottom," Severus said rather harshly. The boy had matured in a not bad-looking young man. "Her usual place is near me." He noticed then that Hermione was casting him pleading looks. She obviously wanted to catch up with her friend. If he wanted her in his bed before the end of the week, it might not do to antagonise her with such a trivial issue. "But it would probably do no harm for her to be seated near you for once." Hermione smiled at him warmly in thanks, and Severus's insides did some belly dancing; he had just assured himself another kissing session.

"So, Neville, tell me how you've been. What've you been doing?" Hermione asked.

Proudly, Neville answered, "I've travelled through Europe: to France, Spain and Russia. Professor Sprout had signed letters of recommendation to the greatest Herbologists for me so that they would accept to teach me the stuff not taught at Hogwarts."

"Great! How much did you learn?" Hermione was sincerely happy for Neville. Gone was the terrified first-year who had lost his toad. In his place was a self-confident man whose passion for Herbology had driven him to travel to expand his knowledge in the field.

"Each place had its own treasures. In Spain, I learnt about the herbs the Arabs once used in Andalusia. In France, I learnt about the Mediterranean magical seaweed, especially how to cultivate Gillyweed. I've interrupted my stay in Russia to attend the anniversary of Voldemort's defeat, but it's very promising there." His eyes were alight with fervour. "I've been staying in the Ural Mountains, and after the ceremony, I'll go to the Caspian Sea."

"That's fantastic," Hermione exclaimed, squeezing Neville's forearm to show him her support.

Neville blushed, his eyes glued to the place Hermione had touched him. "Thank you, Hermione. I've brought some plants with me. Would you like to come and see them? They're in one of the greenhouses."

"Er... that is to say..." Hermione glanced at Severus, only to see him glower at Neville. Hmmm... now was not the time to antagonise the man she wanted more than one snogging session with. "I'd be delighted, but as the Headmaster's personal aide, I must be with him at all times. I'm sorry, I can't go with you now."

Neville was a bit disappointed, but valiantly tried to hide it. "I understand. I'll just have to wait for Professor Sprout to finish her classes so that I'll be able to share my interest with someone."

"You know, I think Luna has a free period in the morning. I'm sure she wouldn't mind seeing your findings."

Neville brightened at that. "Great! I'm going to tell her. Goodbye." In a rush, he left the table and caught Luna before she was out of the Great Hall.

Hermione finished her breakfast quickly after that. Then she and Severus went to his office to tackle the day's amount of paperwork and for her weekly Potions lesson. They were interrupted by no less than three Floo calls from Ministry employees anxious to check if their Head of Department would get a seat at the front for the celebration, or if they had rented a platform for the speeches which would be made that day.

"I need the aconite," she said, stirring her potion clockwise.

"Take it yourself," he answered from his armchair, bent over scrolls of parchment waiting for his signature.

"I can't stop stirring," she replied.

"Why did you not prepare the aconite next to your cauldron?"

"I was distracted." He had combed her hair with his hands under the pretext of helping her tie it, and she had completely forgotten that ingredient.

Smug to know he could distract such a dedicated worker as Hermione, Severus stood up and handed her the plant; he caressed her hand in the process. But he would not kiss her in his office: it would not be professional...and he would not be able to work in here anymore after that. Besides, he had no desire to fuel the portrait grapevine with first-hand gossip. However, this did not prevent him from initiating as many acts of physical contact as he could with Hermione. To his utter glee, she did not hesitate to reciprocate. Trouble was, they were both aroused when the time came to go to lunch, and they could do nothing about it.

"Severus makes Hermione work too hard," Filius whispered in Pomona's ear. "Look how flushed she is!"

"Well, he doesn't look that healthy either," she whispered back. "Even his cheeks are pink. Perhaps he's just had an attack or something, and she had to help him. You never know what can happen with an invalid."

Deliberately oblivious to the whispering, Hermione and Severus took their meal, wondering how to get some alone time discreetly. Hermione groaned and covered her face with her hands. "I promised Harry I would write his speech for the celebration. I must do it this afternoon so that Ginny will send it to him by return post tomorrow morning. He wants to 'practice' his speaker skills."

Severus sighed. "And I promised Pomona last week that I...I mean we...would help her oversee the arrival of the flower shipment for the celebration."

Hermione peeked through an opening between her fingers. "The afternoon is doomed. Flower shipment equals a lot of handling. We'll be exhausted this evening, and Madam Pomfrey has insisted on you resting enough."

"Indeed," Severus answered gloomily. Hermione would never let him get more "physical" activities tonight; she would be too worried for his health.

"Don't worry," she soothed him. "We'll have time for it."

"For what?" interjected McGonagall, who had just ended her conversation with Professor Sinistra.

"Nothing important, Minerva," Severus answered curtly. He turned to Hermione, ignoring his Deputy. "Let's go. You have an hour to write that speech before Pomona expects us in Greenhouse Five."

"Couldn't you have lost the habit of doing Potter's homework when you ceased to be a student?" Severus grumbled one hour and a half later while they were hurrying along the castle's corridors to the greenhouses.

"You shouldn't think like that. You wouldn't want a poor speech to reflect poorly on the school. And you wanted to be sure that you'd be praised properly," she teased him. "If I'd let Harry do it by himself, it would've been maudlin."

"Touché."

"Ah, Severus, Hermione! Here you are," Pomona Sprout greeted them. "Argus has just told me the delivery men were at the gates. With three wands on the job, the flowers will be in the greenhouse in no time."

In no time turned out to last more than two hours. A lot of flowers were needed to decorate the platform, the grounds, the Great Hall, etc. Most of them were fragile and had to be handled so carefully that it was impossible to Levitate too many at a time. When all the flowers were set down near Greenhouse Five, Severus and Hermione remained to help Pomona to put them into vases or pots inside the greenhouse.

"Blimey! I never thought that bunch would be so much trouble!" Pomona whined. "I hope we haven't missed dinner!"

"There are always the kitchens," Hermione suggested. She looked drained.

"That's a very sensible idea, actually," Severus agreed. "Right now, I don't feel like facing the hubbub of the Great Hall. Let's take something in the kitchens and eat in my quarters." He did not seem to be faring better than Hermione, and he feared that his tiredness would provoke a muscle incident. Pomona Sprout observed the exchange with curiosity; those two would soon be out of the closet.

Half an hour and several trays later, Hermione and Severus entered the latter's rooms at last. They had barely put their piled trays down onto the table that the muscles in Severus's right leg went slack. He grabbed hold of a nearby chair and let himself fall on it gracelessly. With an efficiency that bespoke of a long-time habit, Hermione handed him a phial of Muscle-Controlling Potion.

"Thank you," Severus said while re-corking the phial of the vividly green, thick potion. "We've only just avoided a disaster."

Hermione plopped herself down into a chair in front of him. "I hope it hasn't cut your appetite off?"

"Not at all." He helped himself to a healthy plate of pork, potatoes and carrots and started to eat with gusto.

Hermione chuckled. "The exercise made you hungry. Well, me too." And she imitated him.

When their meal was finished, they listened to music through the Wizard Wireless Network side by side on the sofa while drinking a cup of herbal tea. They felt so at ease with each other. Hermione leaned her head against Severus's shoulder, and he snaked an arm around her shoulders. They stayed like that, unmoving, for a while before Severus started to fall asleep.

"I think I'll call it a night," Hermione said, standing up. "I'm knackered."

Severus stood up too and offered her his arm. "I'll walk you to your quarters."

In the dimly lit corridor which led to both their rooms, they exchanged a good night kiss. Tiredness prevented it from being as physically heated as the one they had shared the day before, but the warmth in their hearts made up for it tenfold.