An Offer She Couldn't Refuse

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Chapter Four:
I Can Do This


Her quarters were very nice, indeed. Not too big, not too small… bigger than she had anticipated, though. When he saw her eyes widen, Severus smirked.

“What did you expect? You are staff now, not a student.”

“I don’t know what I expected, honestly.”

“You are pleased then?” he asked, voice not betraying his desire to please her.

“They are perfectly acceptable,” she said, smiling at him.

“If you would follow me, then, we will begin the task of stocking the hospital wing.”

Without a further word, he turned on his heel and swept off in the direction of the Potions classroom.

The afternoon was filled largely with silence; occasionally a smattering of conversation, usually work related, snuck through. Hermione was still largely unclear as to what her role was as a conversant, so she tried to follow his lead. Mostly, though, he was silent. When he dropped a bottle of armadillo bile, made a sarcastic comment, and laughed, Hermione felt much more at ease. It would be much easier to live and work with someone who could laugh, and who could make her laugh.

Looking on that moment objectively, Hermione realized that was the first time she had seen her former professor as a person. And she had liked what she saw. Somehow, she had the impression that he, like herself, took himself too seriously at times. But in that one brilliant accident, he had proven himself to be someone she could get along with.

Through the afternoon, she kept sneaking glances at him, watching him. He was so intelligent and graceful. This she had noticed before. Now, when she watched him here, working in private, she observed some of his habits and mannerisms he had guarded under other circumstances.

His hair hung down over his eyes, and he would attempt to fix it by jerking his head in one direction or the other. If he was, for some reason, not paying attention and nearly picked up the wrong ingredient, he pulled his hand back as though it had been burnt. His twitchy motions were oddly endearing, and the more she watched him, the more at ease she felt.

Much later, it came time for her potion to be bottled, and as she finished the last of the clean-up she noticed he was having trouble with his hair again. She walked up behind him and rather boldly ran her fingers through his hair, gathering it at the nape of his neck. It was quite a task to contain all of his very fine hair, which resulted in repeated efforts on her part.

Severus could not help but sigh as she did this, and lean into her gentle hands. Of course, she noticed.

Reaching behind her, she pulled out a chair—not a stool, she could never reach his head if he sat on that.

With her hand still on the back of the chair, she said, “Sit down.”

He glanced at the potion uneasily. Hermione pulled out her wand and pointed it at the cauldron.

“Simple stasis spell,” she said, smiling.

It was not his favorite way to do things, but she had a point. He needed to stop for a bit. It was a demanding potion, and his mind was not at all on the task. He wondered if she knew.

He complied with her wishes and was rewarded with her fingers running through his hair and massaging his scalp. Hermione was, had always been, a touchy kind of person. She enjoyed bringing comfort to people she cared about—sometimes her friends loved it, sometimes not so much.

It was Ron and Harry mostly, she mused as she dug her thumbs into his tense neck, that she had been so physical with, and who also had received most of her care, be it nurturing or nagging. Ginny was far too standoffish, and she knew that. And Luna may have been a lost ball in high weeds, but she didn’t need looking after.

Something about Professor—about Severus—made her realize that he would need much the same attention as the boys. Perhaps it was the way he responded to her attention like a starving man would respond to his favorite foods, or maybe something else she hadn’t considered yet. Anyway, she was pleased to help out if she could, and if this was what that elusive “companion” meant, well, that was just fine.

Severus sighed and dropped his head forward, chin resting on his chest. Taking a deep breath, he said, “I should get back to that.”

Hermione restrained him with one hand on his shoulder, moving so that she could face him. The effect was that she virtually had her arm around him. She didn’t notice, but he certainly did.

“Are you sure?” she queried, “Forgive me, but it seems like you are not very focused today, and I could finish it…” For a moment, she was unsure whether she had been too forward. She was just doing what came naturally to her.

“That would be… appreciated, Hermione,” he said silkily. “I shall retire until dinner. You will join me then?”

“Of course,” she said with a smile, now ushering him out of the work area.

“I will come back to retrieve you. I have a feeling you will lose all track of time,” he said with a smirk, closing the door behind him.

Hermione smiled at the closed door. This was turning out to be… nothing like she had dared to hope. He was treating her like a person—like a person he wanted to be around, a person he respected. She had craved that from him for so long, it was like a part of her was made complete.

Her posture improved by pride, she turned back to the task at hand and set in. Of course she would lose track of time, who wouldn’t?