Disguised Affections
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Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
27
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25,556
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144
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
27
Views:
25,556
Reviews:
144
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter Twenty-Five
A/N: Sorry for the delay. As we get closer to the end, the chapters are getting harder and harder to write. I think I’m going to go through Con/Snape withdrawal when this piece is finally done. **Iz sad.**
Harry Potter and everything you recognize here belongs to JK Rowling. She created an awesome world that is irresistible and I can’t help but want to play in it. This is fanfiction, and as such, I make no profit on it.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Severus had never seen a sight as beautiful as Hermione lying on his bed in his professor’s quarters. She was curled on her side, her head propped on her hand and supported by the acute angle of her elbow. Her brown eyes followed him as he shrank his belongings and packed them with precision in several open trunks on his floor.
“Where are you going to go? What’s going to happen next?” Hermione rolled onto her stomach and tapped the bed with her foot. The Potions master heard what she was really asking him. He smiled and shrank his Compleat Lexicon of Potionnes. He pursed his lips and after some consideration he also cast a cushioning charm on the rare tome.
“I’ll be in Hogsmeade. I couldn’t stand to be too far from you. It makes me feel unsettled.” Out of the corner of his eye, Severus saw her flush in pleasure. “Since you still need to sit your NEWTS, I thought I’d rent a cottage until you’ve graduated. Then we’d reassess the situation together.”
“You’ll do Potions research?”
He felt a rapturous smile spread across his normally reserved face. “Yes. The shackles that bound me to both of my masters are finally gone, and I’m free to pursue my research.” Severus strode to his bureau and picked up a letter that was propped against a stack of books. He tossed it to her. “Look what I got this morning.”
Hermione’s eyes widened when she saw the seal of St. Mungo’s, and she pushed herself up to sit cross-legged. With impatient, nervous fingers, she fumbled until it fell open in her lap. “No! Severus!”
“Yes, my dear. You’d best believe it.”
“I can’t believe it. St. Mungo’s loved it! They absolutely loved our jenett potion for patients with memory problems.”
“You’ve not seen the best part. Keep reading.” He sat down on the edge of the bed next to her, and pushed a lock of her heavy hair from her shoulder. She smelled wonderful and he couldn’t help but bury his nose in her neck as she scanned the letter.
“Oh gods! Money. They’ve given us grant money, Severus. A lot of it.”
He pulled back and smiled at her in contentment. Their hands connected, fingers interlacing without their conscious intent. “I was hoping that when you’ve graduated, you’d come live with me and we might work on it together, Hermione. I’m not interested in pursuing this if you are not by my side.”
“Who would have thought you’d end up being so sappy?” She smiled, softening her words. “Where’s your bite, Severus?”
“Does it bother you? That I’m soft with you?” He cocked his head, curious.
“Not at all.” Her hand cupped his cheek. “Besides, I know your snarky git is still crouching in your belly, waiting to jump out and startle Ron and Harry out of complacency.”
“Oh, gods!” Severus exclaimed. “Potter and the Weasel. When are you going to tell them?”
“I’m not. Draco practically begged me to allow him to be the one to enlighten them.”
He dropped his head into his hands and groaned. “Hermione, you realize that he’s probably going to tell them that I have a history of spousal abuse and drug addiction. Or that I’m into stealing children and using their bits as Potions ingredients.”
She slid her arm around his shoulders and stroked his hair reassuringly. “Yes, I know.” Severus looked at her with the edge of his mouth curling like a wreath of smoke. “But how much more relieved will they be when they discover the actual truth? Besides, I think Draco might surprise us.”
“So, to sum up: Your friend Constantine Prince is, in reality, my Uncle Severus and he’s shagging Hermione like a Hippogriff in heat despite a twenty-year age difference.”
Ron’s face was pale. Very, very pale. He stumbled and sat down hard on the stone bench in the Hogwarts courtyard.
“She must really like it because they’re still together, and I see her coming and going from the dungeons all the time. Yes, in through his office, out through his quarters. In and then back out. In and out. In and out.” Draco punctuated his words with a quirked eyebrow and some lewd hand gestures.
Harry swallowed and looked as if he was struggling not to be ill.
“Isn’t it nice how these things work out? It’s true love between your best friend and our old and saggy Potions professor.”
“Gods, Malfoy. No more! Have mercy, please.” Ron stumbled away a few steps.
“Oh, the images that have been burned into my mind that I shall never, ever be able to remove. I’m not sure which nightmares will be worse: facing Voldemort or Snape humping Hermione.” Harry had removed his glasses and was mashing his eyes with the heel of his palm.
Ron’s head jerked towards Harry. “Never use the word ‘humping’ ever again or I will have to kill you, and then I would get locked up in Azkaban, and oh gods, I don’t want to go to Wizarding prison.”
Harry looked at Draco’s gleeful face and then spoke. “Well, let’s think about this – ”
“NO!” Ron shouted, holding his hands up to fend off phantom images of Snape’s bobbing arse.
“No, listen a minute. Let’s think about this logically. We liked Con, right?”
“Yeah,” Ron said, his voice grudging. “Sort of. Although he was kind of a git.”
“Con was actually Snape. So, maybe…” Harry paused, his face wrinkled. Draco rolled his eyes at Potty’s slow-wittedness. “Maybe, we’ll like Snape, too.”
“Could be.” The redhead chewed on his nails and cast a glance at the blond who was rapidly growing agitated. “And he did help us save Hermione. That makes him all right, in my books. But, urgh… Snape. Kind of gross, wot?”
“Are you kidding me?” The blond was irritated that the two boys were already calming down. He’d thought there’d be more fireworks than this, and Malfoy saw his chance to aggravate Potty and the Weasel slipping through his fingers like sand in a clenched fist. “Don’t you get it? He’s shtupping her. Snape’s probably got her legs over his shoulders right now. They’re having rabid kneazle sex! Penis/Vagina! What is wrong with you?”
Draco was violently disappointed that this was not going over like the lead balloon he’d hoped. If he was honest, he was so ecstatically happy to have his uncle back and his father out of his life that he’d have been content even if Snape was tupping Hagrid while cross-dressing like Longbottom’s grandmother. But one of his few joys in life was poking at Potter and his friends, and they refused to play. He pouted.
“Now look here, Malfoy. Con Prince was our friend, so we’ll not have you talking about Snape’s bedroom sports with Hermione.” Ron stopped, and then laughed. “If that’s not the most convoluted thing I’ve ever said.”
Harry stood a little straighter. “And it’s Hermione’s decision after all. If she likes him, then that’s that. Can’t get in the way of true love. It’s almost sweet in a way.”
Ron’s mouth twitched. “Yeah. Two swotty bookworms who like to yell finding love, one with the other.” He clasped his hands together and fluttered his eyelashes.
“That’s it. Fuck you both. I’m leaving. This is hopeless. You are both utterly hopeless.”
Draco turned to stomp away and had to grit his teeth when he heard Harry whisper to Ron, “Sounds like Malfoy has some weird obsession with Snape and Hermione doing it. He can be a creepy bugger, can’t he?”
When Draco was out of hearing range, Ron looked at Harry, his lips twitching madly. “True love? Sweet?”
Harry barked a laugh that sounded like it was torn out of him. “I nearly lost it, mate. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done – saying that with a straight face. What about you? ‘Two swotty bookworms falling in love?’ I thought I was going to start cackling like a maniac.”
Ron snorted. “I thought that one was particularly good. Malfoy’s my friend, but he still can be a berk. Imagine breaking news like that – trying to get a rise out of us.” His smile faded, and his freckles once again stood out on his pale skin like drops of blood on snow.
They sighed and collapsed on the bench together.
“’Mione and Professor Snape. It is gross, isn’t it? He’s not saggy like Malfoy said, but he’s so much older than us.” Harry’s voice was contemplative.
“And his hair is greasy.”
“True. His temper’s uncertain at the best of times.” Harry cocked his head. “With us, anyway. Have you ever heard him raise his voice to Hermione?”
Ron bent his leg and rested his chin on his knee. “No.”
“Me neither.”
“You don’t think they actually are having sex?”
“No. Absolutely not. And they never will. Let us never discuss this again.” Harry shuddered. “Hey, Ron.”
“Yeah, Harry?”
“I’m completely and utterly disgusted by this conversation, but I just want to say that… I’m kind of happy for them.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
Twenty stirs clockwise, a dram of marjorum, and then…
The knock at the door to the Potions laboratory set his teeth on edge. Severus admitted that moving his research into the communal lab he’d shared with Hermione had been a foolish and sentimental act. He now suffered all kinds of interruptions that he’d never had to deal with when he used the private lab off of his living quarters. However, the possibility that Hermione might pop in and join him was appealing.
“Enter.”
Trepidation tightened the muscles in his back when he saw Potter and Weasley enter. Harry gave him a small, uncomfortable smile and glanced around the laboratory.
“So this is where the magic happens, huh?” The black-haired boy waved his fingers in what Severus presumed was supposed to be a mystical way.
Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty stirs.
“Do you really want me to answer such a mind-numbingly idiotic question, Potter?”
Harry sighed. “I suppose not.”
The Potions master’s graceful hands opened up the container of marjorum and measured out the required amount. “Are you here for any particular reason?”
Ron pulled up a stool and sat. He crossed his legs, ankle resting on his knee and regarded him with a level stare. Severus thought he’d never looked more like an adult. He bore a striking resemblance to his father, Arthur Weasley – a man Severus had always respected for his work in the Order.
“We’re here to talk to you about… all of this.” The redhead waved his hand vaguely between them. “Us, you, Hermione. Do you have time now? Or would you prefer to set up an appointment, Professor Snape?”
Severus allowed the fall of his dark hair to hide his expression. He wouldn’t mind continuing the friendship that had started to grow between them like an inelegant and scrubby joshua tree in the desert. However, their youth worked against them, making them intemperate and stubborn. He was unsure if they would accept him either as a friend or an appropriate suitor for Hermione. With a flick of his ebony wand, he cast a Stasis Charm on his potion, and turned to the two boys.
“I find that I am free now. Would you like to adjourn to my office so that we can sit in greater comfort?” His voice was biting.
Harry and Ron followed him into his office and gaped when they saw the shelves were completely denuded of preserved eyeballs and strange animals shoved in bell jars with Preservative Potion. All of the professor’s thick tomes were missing, and in fact, all the office contained was a massive scarred desk made of burred elm and three chairs.
“Bonny,” he barked, causing the two boys to jump. It hadn’t been intentional, but he smirked nonetheless. Well, when entertainment presented itself so readily, it would be churlish not to enjoy it. When the house elf appeared in her grubby smock, her eyes were wide and fearful. Bonny had been a Malfoy house elf, and she still acted like it. He smiled at her gently, knowing her history. “Tea for three, please.”
They sat in a silence that Severus found surprisingly comfortable, and when the elf returned laden with a tea tray, the Potions master played Mother – automatically adding a teaspoon of sugar for Ron and a generous dollop of milk for Harry.
Severus could tell they were uncomfortable by his simple act of remembering how they liked their tea, and Harry and Ron looked at the cups in their hands as if they could shed light on just how they were supposed to speak with someone they thought they knew, but never did. Severus took pity on them, and when he spoke, he kept his voice as gentle as if he was speaking to Bonny.
“What exactly do you want from me?” His voice was silky and polite.
Harry glanced at Ron momentarily before meeting the gaze of the Potions master. Severus saw confusion there in the instant before Harry spoke. “Why, I should have thought it would be obvious. We want to get to know you.”
Of all the responses that they could have offered him, Severus had never expected this gift. He read absolute sincerity in their faces, and risking much, the Potions master decided to reach out to them. He was never very good at being vulnerable with anyone except Hermione, and so the olive branch he offered was wilted and half-dead as he waited for his hand to be smacked.
“I suppose there would be worse things. Evisceration or the Dragon Pox, for example. Yes, I should rather get to know you than have the Pox.” He cleared his throat and ran the tip of his finger over a deep groove on his desk. “How shall we proceed?”
“Well, we’ve no set plan,” Ron said. “We thought we should just talk as if we were normal people who wanted to know more about each other.”
Severus nodded.
Silence descended on the room as Ron and Harry desperately tried to think of questions their snarky Potions master wouldn’t think were fresh, and Severus tried to shift his thinking away from his role as their professor. Minutes passed, the lack of sound stifling and beginning to choke the occupants of the room.
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” Severus murmured.
“Nah, it’s just awkward,” Ron said. “We’ll figure it out. We’ve got to, because Hermione is deadly serious about you, and if we want to stay a part of her life it’d be easier on her if we… you know, liked each other. Or at least got along.”
Severus raised his eyebrow and looked nonchalant. “She said that? She’s serious about me?”
Harry laughed at his former professor’s studied show of innocence. “Of course. Did you have any doubt?” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Ron and I always thought she rather fancied you even before this whole thing started. Hermione always mentioned how graceful she thought you were, and her eyes were always glued to your hands when you were preparing potions in class.”
Ron brayed in laughter. “We told her she was barmy, of course!”
The older man crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “Shut your mouth, Weasel.”
Smirking in good humor, Ron said, “Sure thing, Professor.”
“Severus.” He shifted in his chair and looked away from the two boys.
“What?”
He turned back to them, his eyes dark and quiet. “You may call me Severus.”
Harry reached across the desk to clasp the Potions master’s hand. Slowly, as if afraid this might all still be an elaborate prank, the older man grasped it. It was firm and Potter’s skin was calloused from Quidditch.
“It’s nice to meet you, Severus.” The boy’s green eyes glowed.
“The pleasure is all mine, P—Harry, Ronald.”
When Snape left Hogwarts, he walked out with an honor guard. On his left, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley stood tall, their shoulders squared as they escorted him to the gates. On his right, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy strode with their chins lifted proudly.
The students who saw this strange phenomenon noticed her small hand was wrapped in the hem of his robes. If they were very observant, they might have noticed that the Potions master had slowed his steps just enough so that Hermione could keep pace without appearing to be rushing. But the most fascinating thing occurred once Severus Snape had crossed off of school property.
With a solemnity more fitted to a funeral than a simple goodbye, the former professor shook the three boys’ hands before turning to the slip of a girl at his side. His face softened, and he reached out and tangled his fingers in her hair, pulling a lock of it perfectly straight before allowing it to bounce and curl around his hand lovingly.
“How fascinating,” he whispered before turning away and Apparating.
The three boys moved to surround her, touching her face, her arm, her shoulder. Hermione did not cry, but instead stood with her gaze fixed upon the point where he disappeared. She took a hiccupping breath and at last turned to look at her friends.
“Well,” the girl said. “The weather’s quite cold. Let’s go back inside.”
A/N: One more chapter to go!! Like it, love it, hate it, review it!
Harry Potter and everything you recognize here belongs to JK Rowling. She created an awesome world that is irresistible and I can’t help but want to play in it. This is fanfiction, and as such, I make no profit on it.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Severus had never seen a sight as beautiful as Hermione lying on his bed in his professor’s quarters. She was curled on her side, her head propped on her hand and supported by the acute angle of her elbow. Her brown eyes followed him as he shrank his belongings and packed them with precision in several open trunks on his floor.
“Where are you going to go? What’s going to happen next?” Hermione rolled onto her stomach and tapped the bed with her foot. The Potions master heard what she was really asking him. He smiled and shrank his Compleat Lexicon of Potionnes. He pursed his lips and after some consideration he also cast a cushioning charm on the rare tome.
“I’ll be in Hogsmeade. I couldn’t stand to be too far from you. It makes me feel unsettled.” Out of the corner of his eye, Severus saw her flush in pleasure. “Since you still need to sit your NEWTS, I thought I’d rent a cottage until you’ve graduated. Then we’d reassess the situation together.”
“You’ll do Potions research?”
He felt a rapturous smile spread across his normally reserved face. “Yes. The shackles that bound me to both of my masters are finally gone, and I’m free to pursue my research.” Severus strode to his bureau and picked up a letter that was propped against a stack of books. He tossed it to her. “Look what I got this morning.”
Hermione’s eyes widened when she saw the seal of St. Mungo’s, and she pushed herself up to sit cross-legged. With impatient, nervous fingers, she fumbled until it fell open in her lap. “No! Severus!”
“Yes, my dear. You’d best believe it.”
“I can’t believe it. St. Mungo’s loved it! They absolutely loved our jenett potion for patients with memory problems.”
“You’ve not seen the best part. Keep reading.” He sat down on the edge of the bed next to her, and pushed a lock of her heavy hair from her shoulder. She smelled wonderful and he couldn’t help but bury his nose in her neck as she scanned the letter.
“Oh gods! Money. They’ve given us grant money, Severus. A lot of it.”
He pulled back and smiled at her in contentment. Their hands connected, fingers interlacing without their conscious intent. “I was hoping that when you’ve graduated, you’d come live with me and we might work on it together, Hermione. I’m not interested in pursuing this if you are not by my side.”
“Who would have thought you’d end up being so sappy?” She smiled, softening her words. “Where’s your bite, Severus?”
“Does it bother you? That I’m soft with you?” He cocked his head, curious.
“Not at all.” Her hand cupped his cheek. “Besides, I know your snarky git is still crouching in your belly, waiting to jump out and startle Ron and Harry out of complacency.”
“Oh, gods!” Severus exclaimed. “Potter and the Weasel. When are you going to tell them?”
“I’m not. Draco practically begged me to allow him to be the one to enlighten them.”
He dropped his head into his hands and groaned. “Hermione, you realize that he’s probably going to tell them that I have a history of spousal abuse and drug addiction. Or that I’m into stealing children and using their bits as Potions ingredients.”
She slid her arm around his shoulders and stroked his hair reassuringly. “Yes, I know.” Severus looked at her with the edge of his mouth curling like a wreath of smoke. “But how much more relieved will they be when they discover the actual truth? Besides, I think Draco might surprise us.”
“So, to sum up: Your friend Constantine Prince is, in reality, my Uncle Severus and he’s shagging Hermione like a Hippogriff in heat despite a twenty-year age difference.”
Ron’s face was pale. Very, very pale. He stumbled and sat down hard on the stone bench in the Hogwarts courtyard.
“She must really like it because they’re still together, and I see her coming and going from the dungeons all the time. Yes, in through his office, out through his quarters. In and then back out. In and out. In and out.” Draco punctuated his words with a quirked eyebrow and some lewd hand gestures.
Harry swallowed and looked as if he was struggling not to be ill.
“Isn’t it nice how these things work out? It’s true love between your best friend and our old and saggy Potions professor.”
“Gods, Malfoy. No more! Have mercy, please.” Ron stumbled away a few steps.
“Oh, the images that have been burned into my mind that I shall never, ever be able to remove. I’m not sure which nightmares will be worse: facing Voldemort or Snape humping Hermione.” Harry had removed his glasses and was mashing his eyes with the heel of his palm.
Ron’s head jerked towards Harry. “Never use the word ‘humping’ ever again or I will have to kill you, and then I would get locked up in Azkaban, and oh gods, I don’t want to go to Wizarding prison.”
Harry looked at Draco’s gleeful face and then spoke. “Well, let’s think about this – ”
“NO!” Ron shouted, holding his hands up to fend off phantom images of Snape’s bobbing arse.
“No, listen a minute. Let’s think about this logically. We liked Con, right?”
“Yeah,” Ron said, his voice grudging. “Sort of. Although he was kind of a git.”
“Con was actually Snape. So, maybe…” Harry paused, his face wrinkled. Draco rolled his eyes at Potty’s slow-wittedness. “Maybe, we’ll like Snape, too.”
“Could be.” The redhead chewed on his nails and cast a glance at the blond who was rapidly growing agitated. “And he did help us save Hermione. That makes him all right, in my books. But, urgh… Snape. Kind of gross, wot?”
“Are you kidding me?” The blond was irritated that the two boys were already calming down. He’d thought there’d be more fireworks than this, and Malfoy saw his chance to aggravate Potty and the Weasel slipping through his fingers like sand in a clenched fist. “Don’t you get it? He’s shtupping her. Snape’s probably got her legs over his shoulders right now. They’re having rabid kneazle sex! Penis/Vagina! What is wrong with you?”
Draco was violently disappointed that this was not going over like the lead balloon he’d hoped. If he was honest, he was so ecstatically happy to have his uncle back and his father out of his life that he’d have been content even if Snape was tupping Hagrid while cross-dressing like Longbottom’s grandmother. But one of his few joys in life was poking at Potter and his friends, and they refused to play. He pouted.
“Now look here, Malfoy. Con Prince was our friend, so we’ll not have you talking about Snape’s bedroom sports with Hermione.” Ron stopped, and then laughed. “If that’s not the most convoluted thing I’ve ever said.”
Harry stood a little straighter. “And it’s Hermione’s decision after all. If she likes him, then that’s that. Can’t get in the way of true love. It’s almost sweet in a way.”
Ron’s mouth twitched. “Yeah. Two swotty bookworms who like to yell finding love, one with the other.” He clasped his hands together and fluttered his eyelashes.
“That’s it. Fuck you both. I’m leaving. This is hopeless. You are both utterly hopeless.”
Draco turned to stomp away and had to grit his teeth when he heard Harry whisper to Ron, “Sounds like Malfoy has some weird obsession with Snape and Hermione doing it. He can be a creepy bugger, can’t he?”
When Draco was out of hearing range, Ron looked at Harry, his lips twitching madly. “True love? Sweet?”
Harry barked a laugh that sounded like it was torn out of him. “I nearly lost it, mate. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done – saying that with a straight face. What about you? ‘Two swotty bookworms falling in love?’ I thought I was going to start cackling like a maniac.”
Ron snorted. “I thought that one was particularly good. Malfoy’s my friend, but he still can be a berk. Imagine breaking news like that – trying to get a rise out of us.” His smile faded, and his freckles once again stood out on his pale skin like drops of blood on snow.
They sighed and collapsed on the bench together.
“’Mione and Professor Snape. It is gross, isn’t it? He’s not saggy like Malfoy said, but he’s so much older than us.” Harry’s voice was contemplative.
“And his hair is greasy.”
“True. His temper’s uncertain at the best of times.” Harry cocked his head. “With us, anyway. Have you ever heard him raise his voice to Hermione?”
Ron bent his leg and rested his chin on his knee. “No.”
“Me neither.”
“You don’t think they actually are having sex?”
“No. Absolutely not. And they never will. Let us never discuss this again.” Harry shuddered. “Hey, Ron.”
“Yeah, Harry?”
“I’m completely and utterly disgusted by this conversation, but I just want to say that… I’m kind of happy for them.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
Twenty stirs clockwise, a dram of marjorum, and then…
The knock at the door to the Potions laboratory set his teeth on edge. Severus admitted that moving his research into the communal lab he’d shared with Hermione had been a foolish and sentimental act. He now suffered all kinds of interruptions that he’d never had to deal with when he used the private lab off of his living quarters. However, the possibility that Hermione might pop in and join him was appealing.
“Enter.”
Trepidation tightened the muscles in his back when he saw Potter and Weasley enter. Harry gave him a small, uncomfortable smile and glanced around the laboratory.
“So this is where the magic happens, huh?” The black-haired boy waved his fingers in what Severus presumed was supposed to be a mystical way.
Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty stirs.
“Do you really want me to answer such a mind-numbingly idiotic question, Potter?”
Harry sighed. “I suppose not.”
The Potions master’s graceful hands opened up the container of marjorum and measured out the required amount. “Are you here for any particular reason?”
Ron pulled up a stool and sat. He crossed his legs, ankle resting on his knee and regarded him with a level stare. Severus thought he’d never looked more like an adult. He bore a striking resemblance to his father, Arthur Weasley – a man Severus had always respected for his work in the Order.
“We’re here to talk to you about… all of this.” The redhead waved his hand vaguely between them. “Us, you, Hermione. Do you have time now? Or would you prefer to set up an appointment, Professor Snape?”
Severus allowed the fall of his dark hair to hide his expression. He wouldn’t mind continuing the friendship that had started to grow between them like an inelegant and scrubby joshua tree in the desert. However, their youth worked against them, making them intemperate and stubborn. He was unsure if they would accept him either as a friend or an appropriate suitor for Hermione. With a flick of his ebony wand, he cast a Stasis Charm on his potion, and turned to the two boys.
“I find that I am free now. Would you like to adjourn to my office so that we can sit in greater comfort?” His voice was biting.
Harry and Ron followed him into his office and gaped when they saw the shelves were completely denuded of preserved eyeballs and strange animals shoved in bell jars with Preservative Potion. All of the professor’s thick tomes were missing, and in fact, all the office contained was a massive scarred desk made of burred elm and three chairs.
“Bonny,” he barked, causing the two boys to jump. It hadn’t been intentional, but he smirked nonetheless. Well, when entertainment presented itself so readily, it would be churlish not to enjoy it. When the house elf appeared in her grubby smock, her eyes were wide and fearful. Bonny had been a Malfoy house elf, and she still acted like it. He smiled at her gently, knowing her history. “Tea for three, please.”
They sat in a silence that Severus found surprisingly comfortable, and when the elf returned laden with a tea tray, the Potions master played Mother – automatically adding a teaspoon of sugar for Ron and a generous dollop of milk for Harry.
Severus could tell they were uncomfortable by his simple act of remembering how they liked their tea, and Harry and Ron looked at the cups in their hands as if they could shed light on just how they were supposed to speak with someone they thought they knew, but never did. Severus took pity on them, and when he spoke, he kept his voice as gentle as if he was speaking to Bonny.
“What exactly do you want from me?” His voice was silky and polite.
Harry glanced at Ron momentarily before meeting the gaze of the Potions master. Severus saw confusion there in the instant before Harry spoke. “Why, I should have thought it would be obvious. We want to get to know you.”
Of all the responses that they could have offered him, Severus had never expected this gift. He read absolute sincerity in their faces, and risking much, the Potions master decided to reach out to them. He was never very good at being vulnerable with anyone except Hermione, and so the olive branch he offered was wilted and half-dead as he waited for his hand to be smacked.
“I suppose there would be worse things. Evisceration or the Dragon Pox, for example. Yes, I should rather get to know you than have the Pox.” He cleared his throat and ran the tip of his finger over a deep groove on his desk. “How shall we proceed?”
“Well, we’ve no set plan,” Ron said. “We thought we should just talk as if we were normal people who wanted to know more about each other.”
Severus nodded.
Silence descended on the room as Ron and Harry desperately tried to think of questions their snarky Potions master wouldn’t think were fresh, and Severus tried to shift his thinking away from his role as their professor. Minutes passed, the lack of sound stifling and beginning to choke the occupants of the room.
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” Severus murmured.
“Nah, it’s just awkward,” Ron said. “We’ll figure it out. We’ve got to, because Hermione is deadly serious about you, and if we want to stay a part of her life it’d be easier on her if we… you know, liked each other. Or at least got along.”
Severus raised his eyebrow and looked nonchalant. “She said that? She’s serious about me?”
Harry laughed at his former professor’s studied show of innocence. “Of course. Did you have any doubt?” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Ron and I always thought she rather fancied you even before this whole thing started. Hermione always mentioned how graceful she thought you were, and her eyes were always glued to your hands when you were preparing potions in class.”
Ron brayed in laughter. “We told her she was barmy, of course!”
The older man crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “Shut your mouth, Weasel.”
Smirking in good humor, Ron said, “Sure thing, Professor.”
“Severus.” He shifted in his chair and looked away from the two boys.
“What?”
He turned back to them, his eyes dark and quiet. “You may call me Severus.”
Harry reached across the desk to clasp the Potions master’s hand. Slowly, as if afraid this might all still be an elaborate prank, the older man grasped it. It was firm and Potter’s skin was calloused from Quidditch.
“It’s nice to meet you, Severus.” The boy’s green eyes glowed.
“The pleasure is all mine, P—Harry, Ronald.”
When Snape left Hogwarts, he walked out with an honor guard. On his left, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley stood tall, their shoulders squared as they escorted him to the gates. On his right, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy strode with their chins lifted proudly.
The students who saw this strange phenomenon noticed her small hand was wrapped in the hem of his robes. If they were very observant, they might have noticed that the Potions master had slowed his steps just enough so that Hermione could keep pace without appearing to be rushing. But the most fascinating thing occurred once Severus Snape had crossed off of school property.
With a solemnity more fitted to a funeral than a simple goodbye, the former professor shook the three boys’ hands before turning to the slip of a girl at his side. His face softened, and he reached out and tangled his fingers in her hair, pulling a lock of it perfectly straight before allowing it to bounce and curl around his hand lovingly.
“How fascinating,” he whispered before turning away and Apparating.
The three boys moved to surround her, touching her face, her arm, her shoulder. Hermione did not cry, but instead stood with her gaze fixed upon the point where he disappeared. She took a hiccupping breath and at last turned to look at her friends.
“Well,” the girl said. “The weather’s quite cold. Let’s go back inside.”
A/N: One more chapter to go!! Like it, love it, hate it, review it!