After The War

((Another Quick Hit Chapter. Don't shoot me *ducks*))

Chapt. 4

Hermione spent an uneccessary long amount of time hanging the wash that morning. Anything to keep away from Severus was reason enough. Still embarassed by the thought, she turned pink as the autumn breeze flapped the black robes; sending his scent across her face. She'd kept hold of a shred of pride with the fact that he hadn't seen her fully nude, she had covered up a bit with the towel. She must have looked a mess, her hair wet and unbrushed and her face glowing with embarassment. She heaved a sigh, there was no way she'd be able to look him straight in the eye again; not that she'd been able to previously.

The soft flutter of wings took her away from the memory of that morning. A large barn owl, one she knew very well in fact, landed with a soft thud on a nearby tree stump. She smiled, releaved to have something take her mind away from Severus bloody Snape. "Hello Nadia," she said stroking the owl while untying the letter. "Long time no see." Hermione read the letter with haste, a smile curling her lips.

Dear Hermione,

I know it's been quite some time since we've seen each other. I am coming to England and would like to see you. I will be arriving tonight, could you make it to dinner? Send Nadia back with your answer as soon as you can. I hope to see you soon.

Regards,
Viktor Krum

Severus found himself starring blankly in her direction for the second time today. She'd done something with her hair, it was tied in a tight knot atop her head and the front bits were hanging down in ringlets. She'd transformed into one the barbie doll's he spent years despising. She looked as though she'd stepped right out of the pages of Witch Weekly with her black cocktail dress and strappy heals. And, oh for merlins sake...was she wearing make up? He went over a list of possible reasons for the formal attire in his mind. It wasn't her birthday yet, no that wasn't until late Spetember. Valentines Day had passed long ago.

"What's the ocassion?" he asked strolling up from behind. The living room fire was lit and the twinkle of the embers were setting a dull glow on her face as night fell. She sat back in a cushy armchair and crossed her legs daintily. The sight of her sitting so ladylike drew out something within Severus. He felt a trickle go up his spine. Ignoring it out of sheer annoyance he trudged onward, "Finally found yourself a male suitor have you?" The sarcasm was thick and very Snape-like. He was, after all, expected to say such things.

"As a matter of fact," she said brandishing a victorious smile. "I'm having dinner with Viktor tonight. Viktor Krum," she clarified thinking that Snape might not remember the name.

His heart lunged upward and a knot formed in the pit of his stomach. He'd been kidding of course, she certainly wasn't supposed to be going out on dates with International Quidditch stars. He felt his face grow red with a mixture of embarassment and possible anger. His lip curled in frustration as he spoke. "And I assume he's coming to fetch you. Shall I put on some tea?" There was no sincerity in his words and Hermione was relishing her sudden gain of power. "Maybe some biscuits as well, I'm sure Quidditch Stars are used to having everything they desire." He swept from the room with a look of utter contempt on his face. Hermione smiled in his wake.

****

He of course had no intentions of putting on tea or getting out any biscuits for Viktor "bloody" Krum. Severus went straight to his study and poured over a rather thick volume called "Deadly Potions, Kill Your Enemies With Ease". When he heard the doorbell chime he had half a mind to waltz into the hall with his wand ready to strike. Still, he kept himself at peace, though reluctantly. Making his way to the hall, as he was supposed to do when a guest came to call at his home, he found that his heart was beating a thousand miles an hour and his face was contorted in anger.

The sight that greeted him did not help matters in the least. Hermione and Krum were embracing each other in a friendly hug. The fire was flickering in the hearth behind them and the entire scene looked terribly romantical. Severus cleared his throat loudly. "Ah, Master Snape iz it?" said the Bulgarian offering a hand in greeting.

"I have a cold," came the smart retort from Snape, refusing to shake the younger man's hand. "You'll find that my doors are locked at midnight, and no spell you know will open them Ms. Granger. I suggest you be home by then." He gave a short bow grudgingly and stalked off to his study. He heard the front door close and the sound of Hermione's laughter as the two made their way through the front garden. How wonderful for Viktor Krum, he could make her laugh.

Severus suddenly realized that he hated Viktor Krum more than any man on the planet right now, he hated him to the core of his slouched, duck footed, Bulgarian body. He was a bastard and a cad and surely not good enough for Hermione, nowhere near decent enough to be taking her out on any dates. That should be him out there with Hermione, havign dinner and good discussions not Krum. He slammed his hand down hard on the desktop and went to take a hot bath.

After his bath he sat in the front room trying to read but found the task rather difficult. His eyes darted toward the old clock above the mantle more than anything else. He was alert for whispering or sounds at any minute now, it was nearly half past eleven and she wasn't foolish enough to come after the time he'd specified...or was she coming back at all. An image of the two of them waltzing in the front door hand in hand announcing their engagement came to him. No, she was smarter than that and wouldn't go rushing into such things...or would she? For the next fifteen minutes he sat there imagining all the worst possible outcomes until the sound of footsteps brought him back to reality.

"Good night Viktor and good luck in your match tomorrow," he heard Hermione say before she opened the door and stepped over the threshold. She came in and put her bag down on the couch and began to take off her strappy shoes. Severus pretended not to notice her. "You're up late," she said.

He gave her a scowl and curled his lip in disgust. "I'm sure your itching to recount your date but sadly I don't care," he said standing up and tossing the book on the table. He ignored her immediate outburst, "IT WAS NOT A DATE" and turned on his heel. He flicked his wand unceremoniously at the front door and stalked off down the hall, his black robes flowing out behind him.

"You're just jealous!" He stopped dead in his tracks but didn't turn to face her. "You hate the idea that I might be getting the attention of some other man. I'm not daft you know," she said getting to her feet and standing stubbornly with her hands on her hips. "You gave me Romeo and Juliet, you watch me when I hang the wash and there's a heap of vials filled with an opal colored potion in your study, I dare say it's Purity Potion."

Snape's face reddened with a mixture of embarassment and anger. He didn't want to turn around and face her, he just wanted to get away. He suddenly felt as if he were naked in the middle of a room full of very important wizards that he needed to impress, and there he was in naught but his skin. He could feel her chocolate eyes boring into the back of his head. There was no response to be made, he had nothing to say.

"You love me Severus."

He walked away down the hall as fast as he could without turning back. Once in the comfort of his bedroom he disrobed and crawled into the bed, a million thoughts racing through his mind. Had it been that obvious? She hadn't sounded too repulsed. He thought of all the reasons she should be. He was afterall twenty years her senior and not as handsome as most of the young wizards that would kill to kiss her boot. He should have done a thousand things differently, he thought to himself before drifting into an uneasy sleep.

He awoke abruptly to the sounds of crying. "Damnable Banshee," he said sleepily. He looked at the clock, it was nearly two in the morning and she was wailing with full might in the next room. He sat there for twenty mintues, fighting with himself. The urge to go and comfort her was fiercly battling the memory of the conversation earlier that night. Being the man he was, logic won the battle and he rose from his bed. It was illogical to hide from her because she had already guessed the right answers and even more illogical to spend the rest of the night wondering when she'd stop. He threw a black robe over his body and tied it tight as he embarked on what would surely change his life.

The door was wide open and he stepped over the threshold soundlessly. There she was, in her dressing gown, curled up on the bed crying into her pillow. Gathering all his courage he layed down next to her and took her in his arms. She cried soundlessly on his shoulder for a little while and he pressed her closer to him, wrapping her in what little comfort he could give. They fell asleep soon after.