Housewarming

This is a story by the great Marisol, a German FF writer whose stories can be found at http://www.harrypotter-xperts.de/fanfiction?author=17037

Translated from German into English by Muggline

Disclaimer: Neither Marisol nor Muggline are making any money out of this. Everything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling.

A/N: I know that many readers thought we had given up on this one, and I am very glad to tell you that we have not. Marisol had quite a rough time with exams and other RL problems, so it took her a while to finish the story. But it is finished! This is the last real chapter; I am translating the Epilogue at the moment, and that is it! Thank you very much for sticking with us through all the long periods of waiting... And a big hug to Professor M McGonagall for betaing this although she has a heavy workload of her own right now!

The Godfather – Chapter 33 – Housewarming

Hermione was extremely nervous. She fumbled with the sleeves of her robes and glanced at her watch, just to get angry about the fact that only eleven seconds had passed since her last look. "Okay, calm yourself!" she muttered. But only seconds later, she caught herself staring at her wrist again, as if she hoped that the time would, by some miraculous coincidence, go faster if she just looked at the hands of her wristwatch long enough. She was much too early. Severus had invited her and the Potters for seven o'clock, but it was only twenty minutes past six now.

She started pacing on the sidewalk, observing the high hedgerow that protected Severus's new house from unwanted observers, and thought about what she could do. Going back home and driving herself around the bend there was out of the question, just as much as Apparating to Harry and Ginny's house and coming with them. There was no obvious or logical reason, but she was tense and nervous to the tips of her hair, just as if she were about to sit for an exam she had not revised for.

"Get a grip on yourself!" she hissed, then started laughing when she imagined how a random passerby would probably perceive her – as if she had completely lost her marbles, running to and fro whilst talking to herself. Finally, she took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders and headed for the small wooden gate that led to a slightly savaged garden.

Just inside the gate, she stood, listening to her wildly beating heart, while she took in the first sight of Serverus's new home. He had not exaggerated – it was small and rather unimpressive: four white walls, a roof, a massive door, symmetric windows and no ornaments at all. But nevertheless, while his house in Spinner's End had resembled an emergency accommodation for people who did not expect anything more than a roof over their heads, this one exuded what the other one had been completely lacking: life. The windows were clean, smoke rose from the chimney and there was no garbage or junk to be seen around the house.

Although the grass in the garden was as high as her calves, it did not appear unkempt. On the contrary – a perfect lawn, mowed like a British golf court, would have destroyed the overall appearance of this little piece of freedom, topped off by two old wild cherry trees. Hermione smiled a little while she imagined Albus playing here with his siblings. Finally, she pulled herself together, approached the front door, took another deep breath and knocked. After about half a minute, the door opened without a sound, and Severus stood in the doorway.

"Hermione," he said with a light frown. "I did not expect you so early."

As he did not make any move to let her in, she uneasily shifted her weight from one leg to the other.

"Sorry," she said, "shall I come back later?"

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then he said, "I have a visitor. But if you don't mind being present during some long-winded contract negotiations, please do come in." He opened the door a little wider and gestured for her to enter. "I would of course offer to let you wait in the salon or the library to spare you the commercial banter, but since I have neither, and furthermore presume that you would feel quite silly waiting in the bathroom..." Hermione giggled nervously when they reached the end of the corridor, and he opened the door to the right, which led to the sitting room.

As indicated by the outside appearance of the house, the room was sparsely furnished but still cosy. Thinking about it, Hermione found that pictures, vases or any kind of knickknacks would not suit Severus at all. So she nodded involuntarily while she let her gaze wander through the room. To her great relief, he had exchanged his old, worn sofa for a new one, and his bookshelf had been dusted thoroughly, along with the books. When she entered the room, the man inside, who seemed to be a few years younger than Severus, got up and looked her up and down curiously.

"Hermione Granger," she heard Severus say. "Everard Blinkey." She turned around with a questioning look.

"Mr. Blinkey is the purchase manager for potions at St. Mungo's hospital," Severus said curtly. With an almost unnoticeable smile, he added, " And he is about to – please don't hold it against me – try to lead me up the garden path concerning the prices and conditions, a task that is of course bound to failure."

The dark-haired wizard seemed unmoved by this statement, as he replied calmly, " That's what I've been hired to do." He looked at Hermione and was fast to add, " Not pulling the wool over people's eyes, of course, but the price negotiations." He extended his hand. Hermione took it and shook it with a smile. Sitting down in the armchair he offered, she tried very hard to hide her bout of nervousness.

Mr. Blinkey looked at her a trifle too long, and her knowledge of human nature in general and the public opinion towards herself in particular told her exactly what turned around in his mind. She was sure that he asked himself what she of all people was doing in Severus's house.

In any case, Severus did not show any reaction, whether he was aware of it or not. "Mr. Blinkey, please let me resume: we had reached an agreement about the amount of my new boil curing potion to be supplied, as well as the stomach lining balm and the ointment for ingrown toenails."

"Right," the latter confirmed. "But please let me repeat, Mr. Snape: we just cannot agree to your idea of two hundred galleons. I am sure you already know that we would get the same potions and ointments for one hundred and twenty at Blanchard's in Knockturn Alley."

Severus sneered. "You are not talking about the same Blanchard who turned 230 years last month, are you? About whom the Prophet recently wrote that he had made his lips swell to the size of melons by accident because he had added swelling powder instead of sage to his own toothpaste?"

Blinkey blushed somewhat but kept his mouth shut. After a long minute of silence, he finally said, "All right, Mr. Snape. One hundred fifty galleons. This is my last offer!"

"Two hundred," Severus answered calmly.

"One sixty," Blinkey offered.

"Two hundred!"

"One eighty?" Blinkey asked hopefully.

"Mr. Blinkey, I hate to repeat myself: Two hundred or leave it!" Even if Severus had not crossed his arms and looked at him with a hard and unapproachable glare, Hermione would not have dared to contradict if she had been in Blinkey's shoes.

"Well, all right," the man from St. Mungo's finally said through clenched teeth. "Two hundred it is. Always a pleasure to deal with you, Mr. Snape."

Severus's face lightened up to display a superior smile. then he wordlessly handed Blinkey a quill to sign the contract. Blinkey signed, grumbling under his breath. Suddenly, he turned to Hermione. "Tell me, Miss Granger, is there any way to put Mr. Snape off a decision once he has taken it?"

"Oh, well," she stammered, as he had caught her unawares. "I think not, no..."

"Honestly," Severus added coolly, "you just give in too easily. If you had been more persistent, I would have agreed upon 180!"

Speechless, Blinkey stared at Snape, whose content expression reflected the fact that he knew very well how nobody would ever be more persistent than absolutely necessary where he was concerned.

"Now that we have that out of the way..." Calmly, Severus folded his copy of the contract and put it into the inside pocket of his robes. Then he offered Hermione a drink. Her desperate attempt to stifle a grin failed miserably.

"Please don't hold it against him," she told Mr. Blinkey. "His methods are simply irrefutable!"

"Well, Miss Granger, I guess I can't but agree," he replied with a light smile. "May I ask, erm..." he looked between her and Severus and seemed slightly embarrassed.

"Oh, I am a former student," she hastened to inform him.

"Oh, yes, of course." He nodded, but Hermione sensed that this reply would not satisfy his curiosity about her visit in the least.

"I hear you are working in Magical Law?" he asked and leaned towards her in a display of interested attention.

She knew that most wizards and witches were aware of her role during the war and her career, and she was rather embarrassed every time strangers asked her about it. Severus loudly cleared his throat, but Hermione – who hoped that this awkward meeting would end faster when she answered – did not react. She gave a brief description of her job, but it became obvious that Mr. Blinkey had not asked out of mere politeness. Instead of finally saying goodbye, he asked her more and more questions.

"Miss Granger, I must admit that I am very happy to finally get to know you personally," he finally added with a broad smile. "Now that I am sitting in front of you... maybe it would be a good idea for my department to have some kind of pre-formulated standard contracts. Do you see any possibility of giving me some advice in this regard? I could visit you at the office, if you don't mind."

She blinked in confusion. What was he up to? Was this an attempt at flirting? But before she had a chance to say something, she heard Severus answer, "I am afraid that Miss Granger does not do standard contracts, Mr. Blinkey. That's the apprentices' job, usually." She turned to him. Although his face showed the usual impenetrable mask, she thought that she had seen a very short, angry flicker in his eyes.

"Erm, yes... you are perfectly right," stammered Mr. Blinkey.

"Well,..." Severus got up – an unmistakable sign for his guest that he wanted him to leave. Mr. Blinkey understood the broad hint, got up, too, and shook Hermione's hand in farewell, but not without turning around one more time with a regretful glare. Severus accompanied him to the door, and while Hermione listened to the retreating steps, she felt a weird kind of flutter inside her stomach.

If I didn't know better, she thought, Severus also assumed that this Blinkey guy was flirting with me!

When Severus returned, he gave her a grim look and, after an awkward moment of silence, handed her a glass of wine.

And if I'm not mistaken, he did not like it one bit for one reason or another!

SsSsSsSs

"I like your new house," Harry told Severus after dinner.

"Yes, I also think it's great," Ginny confirmed while she held out her glass to Severus so he could pour her some more elf-made wine. "Spinner's End is absolutely no match for this!"

To Hermione's great relief, Harry, Ginny and the children had turned up shortly after Mr. Blinkey had left, and Severus had shown them around the house upon Albus's pleading. But there was not much to show. The sitting room had a small adjoining kitchen. Opposite to the sitting room was the bathroom. The upper floor held a bedroom, one room that Severus seemed to use for his work and some kind of storeroom.

"What I like best about the house," Albus had squealed after the tour, "is the garden!"

Severus had laughed out loud – one of the rare events that made his face look so much younger – and suggested that his godson should go outside with his brother and play.

"Nothing to boast about," Severus said and shrugged. "But it is enough for me."

Hermione did not need to look at Harry and Ginny to know that her two friends were thinking along the same lines as she did. Severus had finally taken the decisive step to give his life a new direction ... a direction which, they hoped, would lead him away from his bitterness and towards more joy and interest in life. Hermione looked out of the window and observed the boys playing in the garden under the slowly setting sun. She felt a strange calmness, as if a storm that had been raging inside of her had suddenly died down. While she half listened to the conversation, her thoughts kept moving in a very much unwanted direction.

She imagined how it would feel to be together with Severus. To play a role in his life. To be someone he had feelings for. These and similar thoughts had been turning around in her mind very often, and just as often, she had reprimanded herself to stop getting her hopes up.

So she turned away from the window with a sad smile and looked at Severus when she realised that he was intently studying her face. His black eyes were fixed on her, and she felt her mouth go very dry all of a sudden. Just to keep her hands occupied, she grabbed a napkin that was lying on the table in front of her and started unfolding and re-folding it.

"Oh dear," Ginny exclaimed. "I did not realise it was so late!"

"But-" Harry gave his wife a bewildered look, but she cut him short.

"You know how wound up James usually gets when he is not in bed by nine," she insisted and grabbed Harry's elbow.

"You want to go already?" Severus asked, surprised.

"Well, yes... the kids always start whining at this time of day," she said with an excusing smile. "Gets on everybody's nerves. We don't want to impose that on anyone."

With a frown, Severus looked from Lily, who was fast asleep on the couch, to the boys, who were playing peacefully in the garden, but he did not say a word. Ginny got up and dragged Harry with her.

"Severus, thank you for the dinner invitation," she said with an honest smile. "We were very happy about it."

Harry still did not understand what had gotten into his wife, but he agreed, adding, "I am glad that you decided to move. And I certainly hope that this will not be the last invitation."

"Of course not." Severus got up and accompanied the Potters to the door, so Hermione could not help but follow. She had seen right through Ginny's motives, and she felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

When Harry and Ginny had said their goodbyes, Hermione quietly said, "I... I guess I should leave, too, then."

He turned to her, not acknowledging her words at all, and asked, "What the hell was that all about?"

She swallowed and avoided looking at him. She could have murmured that she had no clue, but then she whispered self-consciously, "Ginny's perfectly obvious and rather embarrassing attempt at leaving me alone with you. It seems that she thinks that, errr... that I would like that." When he did not answer, she stared at her shoes and said, almost inaudibly, "It... oh god, it's so humiliating. Good night, Severus."

She had hardly turned around to step out of the door when he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into the corridor. "And?" he asked with a penetrating glance.

"And what?" she replied.

"Would you like that?"

"I beg your pardon?" Hermione searched his eyes for a hint of what he thought, but as usual, she found nothing.

"To be left alone with me," he rasped.

"I don't know...," she murmured and suddenly realised how close they were standing. She could feel his breath on her face as well as the warmth his body radiated.

"Or would you rather get a visit from Blinkey tomorrow to have an interesting conversation about standard contracts?"

"Oh, no, no... most certainly not!" she exclaimed.

Upon hearing her protest, his features became a little softer, and he hurriedly closed the door behind her, making her feel dizzy although she did nothing but look up at him. She could not believe what was happening. And when he placed his hands on her shoulders in a slow, but completely unexpected movement, she forgot to breathe for several seconds. "Severus," she gasped while her befuddled senses tried to keep up with reality. The next thing she knew was his kiss.

Without really thinking, her arms wrapped around his neck while she opened her lips to reciprocate. The way he used his whole body to press her against the front door had something raw and desperate – as if he wanted to prevent even the slightest movement because he feared she might flee as soon as she realised what she was doing. But fleeing was the farthest thing on her mind, which was in a haze, anyway. All she could do was dig her fingers into his shoulders and cling to him while trying to get even closer.

Hermione heard colours, tasted smells and saw sounds while she bade her conscious mind goodbye and gave over to her instincts...

sSsSsSs

The cool night air wafted through the open window and cooled the sweat on her naked skin. The room was completely dark; their heavy breathing was the only sound. "Hermione." He spoke to the darkness, his arms still encircling her body.

"Hmm?" She did not dare say anything else because her voice might betray how much she feared his next words.

When he talked, his voice was so soft that she had to try hard to understand everything. "Some days, I will ask you to leave me alone. Sometimes I might snap at you without any reason, and I might even be mean sometimes. I will ask myself why the hell you are doing this to yourself, and I will ask you what you are doing with somebody who cannot give you what you deserve."

She held her breath, unable to move.

"I cannot make any promises, Hermione. I can't promise that I will be a good friend to you and listen, nor that I will make any commitments. I am what I am, and for some miraculous reason, you seem to believe that you are prepared to accept all these things. I... the possibility of letting you near me is scaring me out of my wits."

She felt hot tears collect in her eyes, but when she tried to say something, he stopped her. "But not letting you near me scares me just as much ... going back to who I was... before you came and took up the thankless task of assembling the shards of my life."

She buried her head in his shoulder and listened to his frantic heartbeat.

"Can you accept this?" he asked. And for the first time, she heard something akin to uncertainty in his voice – his fear that she might get up and go and not turn around.

"Can you accept the fact that I cannot give you anything but my promise that I will try to never hurt you on purpose?"

"Yes," she whispered without hesitation. "I can, and I already have."

sSsSsSs

The first sunlight of the day crept through the darkness and awoke Hermione. She blinked and finally opened her eyes, taking a few moments to realise where she was. Severus's arm was draped heavily across her hip, and his regular breathing caressed her neck. She stretched a little, but when she started moving to get into a more comfortable position, she felt him pull her nearer.

Hermione smiled when she recognised the gesture for what it was: his instinctive wish to keep her as close as possible.