The Guardian

Hi one and all! Just a heads up, the chapters on this story are going to be shorter than I usually write. It just worked out that way. I hope it jives. Please let me know. And as per usual, READ AND REVIEW!!

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Home


The bar was a dank pub with more rats than paying customers. Taking one step into the mire of foul odors, smoky darkness, and customers who barely past for human wasn’t for the weak of heart. Severus Snape was far from being weak of heart, but even so, he was having difficulty going into the establishment.


It was the smell, he told himself, as he did his best to block out the miasma of foul scents, not all of which were recognizable. Or perhaps, he told himself it was the pleasant way they seemed to recycle the beer and other cheep booze as a so called cleaning product? He snarled at the barkeep as the man used a towel older than Albus must have been, which was saturated with at least a gallon of old booze. It was then he told himself that he wasn’t ordering a drink of any sort in that establishment. There was no telling if any of the towel drippings would end up in a glass.


“Professor Snape,” came from behind him.


He spun around to find the person that he was looking for standing directly behind him. Without a doubt in that very second though, she was one of the homeliest women on earth. But then she had meant to be as she was charmed to look so.


“Mrs. Snape.”


His greeting had her eyes going wide in shock only for a second. But this was followed by them narrowing in suspicion. “What do you want, Severus? You only call me that when you want something.”


“Who says I want anything?” he inquired. “Perhaps I miss your…” His mouth went as dry as his mind for that second as he tried to think of the appropriate words. Giving up the ghost he muttered, “Of course I want something. You don’t think I would come into this charming public house otherwise do you?”


“Of course not,” she murmured, stepping closer to him. “Let’s go someplace else. A quiet place. You can tell me there.”


“Where?” he asked huskily.


“Anywhere, but here.”


They ended up at the Leaky Caldron in a room that he had rented out. He watched as she removed the charms one by one until she was looking at her own face in the mirror. It was with jaded eyes that she looked at herself. The war had done that to her, he knew, along with the hunt for Death Eaters that came afterwards. Then she had received injuries along the way had left their marks as well. Scars covered her arms as well as part of her neck. A single slim scar went across her face from just below her right eye down to her neck just below her left ear. She had gotten it from a slicing charm that Draco Malfoy had thrown at her just before she had stupefied him.


“What do you want, Severus?” she asked him, sounding bone tired.


The ideas that they had come up with in order to get her over to Hogwarts fled his mind in that instant and were replaced with, “I’m here to take you home.”


She spun to look at him. “What?”


“You heard me the first time,” he said, pulling her to her feet. “I’m taking you home.”


“Why?”


“Several are reasons, not the least of which is that I heard that you are out of a job. Minerva gave me orders to see to it that you came back to Hogwarts and to assure you that you would have employment upon return.”


“As what exactly?” she asked him flatly.


“Any bloody thing you want, woman!” he yelled. “You know, for being the brightest witch of your age there are distinct moments I get the feeling that you are rather dim witted.” He paused. “Potter’s and Weasley’s influence I’m sure.”


She rolled her eyes. This wasn’t anything he hadn’t told her at least a thousand times over the last eight years.


“When did you hear that I was no longer working for the Ministry?”


“About five minutes after you quit,” he murmured. “I may no longer be a spy, but I still have connections.”


“And of course you told Minerva?”


“She knew three minutes before I did,” he replied. “Her connections are better than mine it would appear.”


This had her laughing softly at his disgruntled tones. “Or perhaps she bribes better?”


“There is always that,” he said quietly, looking deeply into her eyes. “You look exhausted.” He reached out, cupping and caressing her face. “The war is over, Hermione. Come home.”


***


Hermione wished she had put up the good fight, but truth be told she hadn’t the energy to do so. Not that it would have mattered, Severus was sneaky and stubborn, not to mention far too accustomed to getting his own way—be it by hook or crook. She closed her eyes, pressing her face against the slope of his neck and felt the automatic tightening of his arm around her waist.


“Will Harry be there?” she asked softly.


“More than likely,” he told her. “He is the new DADA instructor as well as being the head of Gryffindor.”


“And Ron?” she asked.


“He as well,” he murmured, caressing her hair. “He is the quidditch coach and the flying instructor.”


“I’ll jinx Ron if he tries to trick me into flying again,” she told him sourly.


“I will do more than that if he tries that,” he grumbled, remembering watching as she fell from the broom in horror. He kissed her forehead. “Never fear, that will not happen again.”


She let out a quiet sigh. “You always take such good care of me, Severus.” Hermione’s eyes slid shut and she drifted off to sleep.


“And I always will,” he whispered, confident that she hadn’t heard a word.

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