Survival of the Fittest

A/N – I sure you know I’m not JKR. But, I just wanted to make sure everybody was on the same page. I give a million thank yous to Kathy Rose and Larilee for test driving my chapters. Thanks guys!

--

The frigid air of Hogwarts’ castle greeted Hermione as she Flooed into the headmaster’s office. The lights were low as if they had been set for someone’s arrival. Hugging herself, she rubbed her arms up and down to keep the chill at bay.

“It’s about time you got here.”

Hermione turned toward the voice and peered at the ill-illuminated portraits.

“Your wand is on the desk,” a matronly voice announced groggily. “You better transfigure something warmer, lest you catch a cold.”

Hermione could see movement in one of the portraits and approached it cautiously.

“The headmaster is gone to bed,” the witch in the portrait stated in a huff as she went about the scene in her portrait, tidying scrolls on a desk that looked suspiciously like the current headmaster’s desk.

As Hermione got closer to her informant, she recognized Headmistress Dilys Derwent.

“Honestly, Miss Granger,” Headmistress Derwent scolded, “you and Professor Snape certainly did take your time. Where is Professor Snape?”

Backing away from the picture, Hermione made her way to the desk and grabbed her wand.

“It was quite rude to keep the headmaster waiting,” Dilys scolded, “although he was tickled pink when he discovered your amour.” Her voice ended in a giggle.

Hermione quickly transfigured her nightgown into a robe and slippers. She didn’t know what to say. Fear and anger coalesced within her – fear Severus would catch up to her before she got her wits about her and anger over Dumbledore’s actions.

“Do stop nagging Miss Granger, Dilys,” a gruff voice intervened from Phineas Black’s portrait, “and make yourself useful and have someone wake up Dumbledore.”

Panic claimed reason and Hermione jumped. “No,” she pleaded softly. “I’ll—I’ll just leave him a message.” Walking around the desk, she sat down and pulled out some parchment and a quill. “I’ll just jot down a note and the headmaster and I can speak in the morning.”

Dilys gave Phineas a scathing look and sat down in her chair.

“Where is Professor Snape?” The curiosity in Black’s voice was unmistakable.

Hermione scribbled furiously, looking nervously at the fireplace and praying she had the time to do what needed to be done. “I didn’t have the heart to wake him,” she lied. “I was just so excited about coming back, I couldn’t wait. I left a note.”

She could feel Phineas’ stare on the back of her neck. Her heart pounded in her ears and her mouth was dry, but she continued to write.

Phineas snorted in disgust. “During my tenure at Hogwarts, I would have terminated any staff members in a predicament such as yours.”

“And that’s why you were the least-popular headmaster in all of Hogwarts history,” Dilys retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Half listening to the exchange, Hermione continued writing her letter. The past several weeks flew from the tip of her quill, some of the words venomous while others belied her shattered trust and disappointment. Embarrassment over her behavior settled over the shroud of numbness she’d embraced.

Setting the quill down, she scanned the letter briefly, folded it and stood. Hermione ignored the still bickering portraits as she walked out of the room.

--

An exhaustive sleep surrenders its grasp slowly, in stages. The sun was shining through that blasted picture window again, mocking his attempts to slink back into darkness. Severus finally gave up and shoved the duvet to the foot of the bed. Hermione’s scent lingered on the sheets and himself, causing the instantaneous reaction he’d come to accept and crave.

His barely conscious memory flashed a memory before him. She’d gone to the loo. How bloody long ago had that been? Getting out of bed and pulling on his shorts, Severus made his way to the sitting room and saw that the door to the loo was open.

“Hermione?” Severus called out, knowing he would receive no answer. His lover had bolted.

“Bloody hell!” he cursed, feeling the loss of her keenly. He’d let his guard down and she had escaped. Yes, he had planned on rejoining the real world this morning. But he had envisioned that event with Hermione by his side. He had planned on keeping the young witch off balance long enough to… what?

Fuck her until he’d had enough? Would he ever have enough?

His deliberations were interrupted as green flames flashed in the fireplace, revealing an almost remorseful looking Albus.

“I take it you and Hermione had a row,” the old wizard stated, closing in on Severus and staring at him.

Don’t even try it, old man, Severus sneered as he felt a not so gentle push into his mind. Suddenly his time spent here with Hermione seemed precious and personal.

“She’s gone,” Dumbledore stated solemnly.

Snape stomped toward the wizard who had been his salvation during his emergence from the Dark Lord’s influence. “What do you mean, she’s gone?”

The headmaster’s hand trembled as he gave the scroll to the irritable Potions master.

Severus unrolled the parchment and started to read, squinting as he recognized Hermione’s tiny handwriting.

To: Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore

From: Miss Hermione Granger

Dear Headmaster,

Please be advised that I must sever my employment effective immediately. I will send someone after my things. Please direct all correspondence to The Three Broomsticks. I shall be staying there until other arrangements can be made.

Sincerely,

Hermione Granger

Crumpling the letter in his hand, Severus cursed. “You’ve done this,” he growled menacingly and stepped toward the fireplace.

“I’ve sent Minerva after her,” Albus replied. “She will return with Miss Granger.”

Severus grabbed a handful of powder. “Haven’t you meddled enough?” he growled and climbed into the fireplace.

Dumbledore raised his wand and flicked it at Severus. His shorts were quickly transfigured into the proper attire to go storming through the halls of Hogwarts. “Hogwarts’ Headmaster’s office.” Snape threw the Floo powder at his feet and went in search of his witch.

--

“You must realize that Albus’ intentions, although puerile, were good,” Minerva spoke, her brogue thick with emotion.

Sitting in a room in The Three Broomsticks, Hermione stared out the window to the street below. She was livid, but tried to keep her voice neutral when she replied. “Now I know how Harry felt all those years – being manipulated. I can’t help but wonder if I was brought to Hogwarts with the plan already in place or if it was just dumb luck.”

“He feels responsible for Severus. I’m certain Albus’ intentions were honorable all along,” Minerva justified.

“He betrayed my trust,” Hermione retorted. “The headmaster kidnapped Severus and I against our wills. We—we –”

The older witch walked up to her and touched her shoulder gently. “Tell me, dear.” Her voice was a strained whisper. “Did Severus mistreat you?”

Other than being his usual acerbic self or other than toying with my feelings? “No.”

“I know Severus seems a bit brusque at times, but he is a good man,” sighed Minerva on a rush of pent-up breath.

“Please do not talk to me about how noble or how well-intended the headmaster is,” she bit off. “Or Severus Snape. They are both master manipulators.”

Minerva cleared her throat uneasily as a silence stretched between the two.

“Master manipulators,” Hermione repeated the words as if affirming the belief that her anger was not misplaced.

“So you’re just going to tuck your tail between your legs and run. Is that it?” Minerva challenged.

A soft knock on the door was the only answer the Transfiguration teacher received.

“Come in!” Minerva snapped.

The door opened, revealing an imposing figure – Severus Snape.

Feeling her heart twisting at the sight of him, Hermione steeled her resolve and prepared to do battle.

“Minerva.” Snape nodded in acknowledgement.

“Severus,” replied the Gryffindor Head of House.

“Professor McGonagall,” Hermione said warily, “would you please leave? Professor Snape and I have much to discuss.”

--

Her inflection was anything but warm and welcoming, Severus observed, his already foul mood leaving a bitter taste. His wand in hand, he resisted the urge to force his way into her mind – to force the confession she had surrendered the night before last.

“I went to my quarters to get a proper change of attire,” the Potions master explained, crossing the room and standing behind his lover. He reached around her rigid shoulder and placed a crumpled note in front of her. “What is the meaning of this letter?”

A soft click signaled McGonagall’s departure, and any hold over propriety that he had deluded himself into believing left with her. Severus didn’t know which letter hurt the worst – her resignation or the letter she’d written to him.

It bruised his ego to think she would leave her beloved library in an effort to flee his influence. But the second letter reminded him of something he’d almost forgotten – the possibility that the woman before him was carrying his child.

“I thought I made my intentions perfectly clear,” Hermione replied. “I would let you know if there are any, ‘consequences.’ If there are, you needn’t worry about any obligation.”

Her words were clear and concise as she tried to cut him out of her life. He needed a new strategy. He needed time. He needed to keep from thinking about how right it felt to be inside her.

Severus shook the cloud of lust out of his mind and tried to focus on the task of luring Hermione back to Hogwarts. There, she would be powerless against his influence. “Hermione.” He didn’t even recognize his own voice for it was thick with need. “Please, come back to Hogwarts.”

She turned her head slightly as if hearing him for the first time.

She was listening. Now was the time play to her Gryffindor sensibilities.

“You needn’t resign your position,” he started slowly as if coaxing a wounded animal from its den. “I assure you that once a suitable replacement can be found, I will be leaving the school.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she cracked, walking away from him.

Severus caught her hand and stilled her withdrawal with a simple word. “Please.”

Hermione looked at her hand in his, and he smiled. “After everything that happened…” he let his voice trail off.

Distrustful cinnamon eyes peered into his, and he continued. “I realize that I am the last person you would trust –”

“No,” Hermione replied scathingly. “Professor Dumbledore is the last person I would trust.”

Severus placed her hand in the crook of his arm and maneuvered her toward the bed. Seeing their destination, Hermione tensed and tried to pull away from him. But he did not relinquish his hold.

“Stop.” Her voice was a pleading whisper, but her physical response betrayed her protest.

Yes, he wanted to charm the clothes from her body and make love to her. But he needed more than just her body now. That realization caused him to pause.

“We need to talk,” Severus murmured, letting go of her hand as though he had been burned.

Hermione scoffed. “About what?”

“About the weeks of sniping at one another?” she answered her own question, moving as far away from him as possible. “About the weeks of –”

“Surely you realize I’m as much a victim of the whims of Albus Dumbledore as you are.” Severus played to her Gryffindor noble streak. Sitting on the bed and staring at the floor, he strove to look dispirited.

“I regret nothing,” he stated softly.

“What a relief!” Hermione snapped viciously. “I would hate to think you regret shagging me.”

Severus eyed her, his palm itching to reach for his wand so that he could peer into her mind and elicit the truth that had sent him reeling. “Sarcasm does not become you, Hermione.”

--

His tone was soft, which infuriated her even more. She didn’t know who was worse, him or Dumbledore. She was tired of being manipulated. “Well, I learned from the best.” She gave a slight bow, acknowledging the master of sarcasm.

He bowed his head slightly and smirked. “Touché.”

His arrogance fed into her frustrations. Stomping over to the door, she opened it and tapped her foot. “I think you should leave.”

Severus stood and walked to the door. “This is far from over, Hermione,” he purred, grabbed her hand, and kissed it.

Before she could reply, he was gone, his dark robes rippling behind him, leaving confusion in his wake.

--

“She is resolute, Albus,” Minerva reported, a look of disapproval marring her normally schooled features.

Albus listened intently, paying special attention to what was not said. There were very few times throughout his long life that he had actually doubted one of his decisions.

The first answer is normally the right answer. Never second-guess yourself, Headmaster Dippet’s philosophy repeated in Albus’ mind. Albus glanced at Armando’s portrait, wondering if the former headmaster was playing a trick on him.

“I can only guess what happened between Severus and Hermione,” McGonagall continued. “You should not have interfered, Albus.”

Dumbledore lifted the snow globe and peered into it as if the answer to a life-long question swirled within the scene.

Minerva snatched the keepsake from her old friend’s hand. “I can’t help but feel partly responsible.”

“I take full responsibility for the outcome,” Albus stated.

“As you should, you meddlesome old fool,” his friend snapped back. “Severus is a difficult person to understand. What made you think their past could be so readily overcome with their imprisonment in a romantic setting such as this?” She held up the snow globe and shook it under his nose.

“Yes,” a sneering drawl sounded from the top of steps to the office. “What delusions of grandeur did you entertain, old man?”

“Severus!” Minerva gasped in shock.

Albus stood and braced himself for the confrontation. This would be the easy confrontation, after all. “It’s all right, Minerva. Severus has every right to feel put off.”

“Put off?” Snape seethed. “Put off?”

Minerva backed away.

Albus was bemused by the Potions master’s reaction to the situation. The poor boy did not realize how deeply in love he was with Hermione. Should he continue to interfere and point out the obvious or back away and let nature take its course?

“Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,” the tartan-clad witch said, her voice filled with ominous doom. “You’re plotting again. I can see that blasted twinkle in your eye. I suggest you stop.”

Blinking innocently and pretending he had something in his eye, Albus coughed. “You are mistaken, Minerva. It is merely a speck of dust. I have learned the error of my ways and would never dream of interfering again.”

Severus snorted. “You’ve got to bloody well be kidding me!” He leaned against the headmaster’s desk.

“I don’t care what you have to do,” the Potions master growled. “I can not court her properly while she hides in Hogsmeade. Get her back here, and I will take care of the rest.”

Minerva gasped.

Several of the portraits snickered while others cheered. Albus prayed that his beard hid the knowing smile that played across his lips. “And just what are you proposing?”

The Hogwarts Headmaster watched as the Head of Slytherin House capitulated to the insanity of love.

“That is none of your concern.” Snape ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “By the way, you should start looking for a new Potions professor. I will stay on until a suitable replacement can be found.”

“Of course,” Albus answered quickly, unwilling to irritate the wizard further.

Severus nodded curtly and turned on his heel. “Minerva,” he acknowledged the gaping witch in the corner of the room as he stormed out.

There was a low murmur between the portraits as they talked amongst themselves, undoubtedly getting ready to run to their other frames to spread the gossip.

“Well played!” Dilys Derwent applauded.

“I can’t believe you did it,” Minerva said, her face shocked with surprise.

Grabbing a lemon drop from the dish on his desk, Albus sat back in his chair. “Don’t congratulate me yet, Dilys. The hard part is yet to come.”

*****

A/N – The disaster relief has slowed down a bit. However, we have yet to see any evacuees from Rita. Thanks to all who have sent prayers and money. I can not even begin to tell you what the smallest of things mean to these people. Please keep them in mind during the long recovery. God Bless!