A Debt Of Life

Hermione Granger had been studying to become a medi-witch for the last two years at ERCE, earth religion coalition east in America.

It hadn’t been a very difficult choice to make because as soon as she had told Ron, Harry and a few select Order members that she would become a medi-witch and not an Auror, they acted as if she had betrayed them all.

Hermione had decided in that moment, that the world was bigger then ‘The Golden Trio’, Voldemort and the group of do-gooders under Albus Dumbledore’s thumb and had booked the first portkey out of there. She left the next morning leaving a note with the only person she trusted, whom just happened to be the only person no one would consider asking about her and her where abouts, one Severus Snape.

She was sat in her dorm room, after just finishing her last final, when she spotted a familiar owl fly through her window, it landed on her desk and offered her its leg. It was the same owl she had been receiving her only London communication from, it was Severus’ owl Titus. Hermione suddenly had an overwhelming feeling of need to return to the place she once called home, a feeling that was well founded if the letter from Severus was anything to go by.

Hermione,

I know this is short notice, but I am in need of your help.

I require you to return to London and watch over a new friend of mine.

If you are able to come, send an affirmative response with this owl, so I may have a room provided with your requirements.

This could be a long term stay, so pack what you need. I will restock whatever you have to leave behind, or lose due to the sudden departure.

If able, arrive a.s.a.p. You know I would not ask if it wasn’t important.

S.S.

Hermione sent her positive reply and started to pack her belongings. She had a portkey to catch and a new journey to begin.

Seeing Severus Snape for the first time since they had become more then acquaintances was exciting, so exciting she let herself forget about the reasons she had avoided going back to London in the past.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione caught her portkey to the London Ministry of Magic first thing the following morning.

Severus had written one last missive to her the night before, apologising because he would be unable to meet her at the designated arrival area. His house elf would be meeting with her in his place.

One upon a time, that would have made Hermione Granger cross, but over the years she came to realise, that like the fact that you can not make a man pick up his own socks, or clean the house, you can not make a house elf not pick up socks, or do the house work.

The elf was waiting for her just past the wand inspection point, and took her bags, whilst greeting her as she got to him.

The elf gave Hermione a piece of parchment with small spiky hand writing on it, let her memorise what it said and then with a nod from Hermione, made it disintegrate before their very eyes.

Both woman and elf disappeared from the Ministry halls without so much as a pop from the apparation.

When they arrived at Severus’ house he was waiting for them.

Without much thought, Hermione ran over and threw her arms around his neck, then began to tell him how glad she was to see him.

Severus could hear nothing but mumbling and the sound of his own blood roaring in his ears.

He finally relaxed enough to place his arms around her in return and welcomed her to his house.

Before he could say anything more then that, the sound of rushed footsteps alerted him to the arrival of the reason he had called for Hermione to return to London in the first place.

"Sev’rus!" the small boy yelled giggling.

Stepping out of each others friendly embrace, Severus introduced Hermione to his new friend, and her new charge.

"Hello, my name is Hermione, what is yours?" She asked getting down on her knees to make it easier for the young boy to see her.

"My name is Devlyn. It is very nice to meet you!" Devlyn answered politely.

"You have very nice manners Devlyn," Hermione commented.

Devlyn smiled widely, "I’m four!" He said proudly. "How old are you?" He asked.

Before Hermione had the chance to answer Severus chuckled and pulled Devlyn up into his arms.

"You are very cheeky for such a small person. You never ask a lady how old she is," Severus said, his tone gruff to most people, but playful to those who knew him well.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*`

The first week was the hardest for both Severus and Hermione.

Hermione found that the natural instinct to preserve the life of the people she lived with, kicked in very fast, it was very helpful when it came to keeping everyone in the house happy and healthy.

Severus’ problem was that every time he saw Hermione kiss a newly plastered knee, or comfort Devlyn because he missed the other people from his life prior to the raid, was one more thing to make Severus realise that he had lived a life of solitary for far too long. And that he was slowly falling in love with Hermione and Devlyn and what they stood for. Family.

No, Severus Snape, was not going soft. He was still a mean, sarcastic son of a bitch. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t have a heart. It just meant that he had listened to Albus Dumbledore one too many times and let him manipulate him into thinking that he wasn’t good enough to deserve a family.

Severus brought these thoughts to the fore front of his mind every time Dumbledore told him that he was responsible for the man Severus has become, and that he still owed him his life, not to mention that he has a life long debt to society, to make up for the wrong he did for the first half of his life.

In Albus Dumbledore’s language, that meant Severus Snape was a very good lap dog and would do as he is told, or he would be taken to the pound, and possibly put down.