It's always easier to run

Chapter 5

\'A man who doesn\'t trust himself can never really trust anyone else.\' - Cardinal De Retz

______________________________


Hermione slammed the door after that comment from Snape, her stomach sinking at the untainted sadistic glee in his tone. Her mind was whirring with possibilities. Should she leave? Stay with her Aunt? No...he\'d follow her there. Then that would just be a horrible trying time, her poor Aunt would be at the end of her tether in confusion. It would be unfair to unpack her burden on anyone else.

She climbed into her car quickly, shutting and locking her door in one rapid movement, her dark eyes trained on the rearview mirror, half expecting to see Snape come gliding down her steps and standing at the side of her car. The inanity of what she was doing suddenly dawned upon Hermione, and she realized that if Snape wanted to tag along with her to school, he\'d merely have to spell himself into her car and be done with it.

She shook her head at her lack of logic, finding that since she was now situated in non-magic London she was thinking more and more like a true Muggle every day. As her old heap of metal began to warm up -as it had to every morning- she set her mind on what to do about Snape\'s arrival and evidently long duration.

Was he joking? Was it a tactic to get her to leave with him soon? Was he actually intending on staying with her in her flat? For how long? There were many questions to be asked.

She was downright furious at him and Dumbledore for barging into her life like this. It was if they had gone against something sacred. She had left with the intention of never returning, the entire of Hogwarts had known this, especially those two.

Her teeth ground together as she pumped her foot onto the gas petal, hearing it\'s shaky purr. Starting the car with a wayward look behind her, Hermione started off to school away from Snape and away from her old troubles.

If luck was on her side, he\'d be gone by the time she got home.

* * *

Snape looked around the flat in minimal despair. This hadn\'t gone as planned. Miss Granger was supposed to be distraught, wanting to come back to Hogwarts to help out her little friends. But no, she\'d been adamantly against anything of the sort. Snape narrowed his eyes at nothing in particular, feeling as if he\'d been tricked.

He supposed that was why Albus had sent him so soon to fetch her. They\'d had much time before the inevitable. He found it strange that Albus would require Miss Granger so intently, and it worried him a moment that perhaps he may not be able to retrieve her. He would be a disappointment to Albus. He would have failed him again.

Three years had passed since Granger had left the school. Three whole years and yet when confronted with her, it was if time had ceased to pass. Of course she looked older, she had to be about...nineteen now? She had definitely acquired that of a fiery way about her, her old demure childlike fear of him almost completely diminished.

But still beneath that bushy hair, and dark eyes held that of the brilliant student all were in awe of to this day. Snape idly wondered if she was as brilliant in her Muggle school. Probably.

At this point in his thoughts, Snape wondered who might be taking over his Potions class. He felt his lips curving into an angry scowl. Probably some sack bellied little strumpet they picked up who knew nothing about the craft of Potion making. His stomach gave a low rumble of hunger and he scowled, his features hardening.

He sighed in exasperation then, looking around at the home he would be inhabiting for a while with a forlorn look of detachment. Where was he going to sleep? Deciding that his hunger could wait he decided to venture throughout the rest of the modest home of Miss Granger.

He was halfway to the first room where the faintest sound of movement could be heard behind him. His entire body tensed, his eyes growing wide with fear. He knew he was there. He\'d been found. In the rapid palpitations of his heart, and the quickening of his breath Snape\'s mind remained a steel trap, panic having almost no effect.

In one fluid movement Snape had grasped his wand from his inner left sleeve\'s pocket and dramatically whirled around, preparing to utter any slew of curses that would mean death to his opponent. His dark eyes were narrowed in concentration as he turned with agility, only to find his feet tangling with a small, furry object under his feet.

Giving a wayward grunt of surprise as he fell, Snape brought his hands out in front of him. In a decidedly graceful movement he switched and the brunt of his fall had been cushioned by his shoulder, his body turning into a rolling stance of protective falling. His wand -still in his hand in a death grip- was placed back inside his sleeve and as he struggled to sit up, he faced his attacker.

Crookshanks gave a small mew, looking to the stranger in surprised fascination. Snape gave a low growl of distaste as he stood, brushing his cloaks dramatically and looking to the feline with obvious disenchantment. Crookshanks -not realizing just how much trouble he caused- found this to be a most opportune time to smoothly come over to the tall man and rub against his leg.

Snape jumped back at the sudden contact, his lip curving into a disgusted sneer. Before Crookshanks could explore the tall, pale man any further, the said man was gliding into the first door, his face set in obvious anger muttering something that sounded a awful lot like;

\'Bloody Granger.\'


* * *

\"Miss Stapleton, your thoughts?\"

Hermione\'s dark eyes darted to the front of the classroom, her heart suddenly going at an alarmingly fast rate. She\'d been so preoccupied with thoughts of Snape that the sudden calling of her name from her Professor had her heart jumping in surprise. She felt the cool feel of the sliding desk at her right under her palm, her hand clutching her pen tightly.

She looked to the tall blonde man a few feet away at the front of the lecture hall, his light eyes taking her in from behind thin rimmed glasses, making him seem more authoritative than he actually was.

Hermione could feel herself blushing as he acknowledged her with a small nod and soft smile. The rest of the class seemed disinterested in this small movement, most engrossed in their texts or raising their hands in question.

He was the man from the picture Snape had presented to her this morning. He was her Biology Professor, and he was in Hermione\'s opinion, the man of her dreams. His name was Simon Enderby, a most upstanding Professor at the fairly well known University Wessex, which Hermione herself had attended for the past year and a bit.

They had met in Hermione\'s first week at the University. She had been searching for a class -which turned out to be his- and was growing frantic. It had been fairly crowded at the time, and she was growing quite claustrophobic and lonely...just another reminded that she was alone in the world. No friendly Professors to help her find classes. No friends to welcome her back after a relaxing summer. No, it was she and she alone.

And so she had come up to the tall figure standing at the end of the hall. She\'d brushed against his arm roughly by accident, and turning to apologize she\'d been caught up by his kind features. He\'d been carrying a briefcase and looked rather nervously to her.

\"Lost?\"

His voice was low and sincere, and from that moment Hermione was at ease. It may have been the kindness in tone, or the soft way he was smiling at her that showed nothing but the most sincere of intentions. Either way, she felt herself breaking into a broad smile and nodding lightly.

\"Yes.\"

\"I\'m afraid I am as well, otherwise I\'d help you.\" He\'d said lightly, his eyes dancing behind his glasses that Hermione was pleased to note, bore no real resemblance to that of Harry\'s. \"I just started this year.\"

Hermione had nodded, finding her fear of finding classes slowly diminishing with every smile he gave her. He never stopped looking at her, making her feel as if he was completely enraptured with her.

\"What do you teach?\"

\"Biology.\" He\'d said rather hurriedly, as if he were embarrassed at the subject. As if he expected her to be bored from the spot. At this he\'d subconsciously rearranged the side of his glasses, something Hermione noted later on, he did whenever uncomfortable. At this, the faintest of a blush came across his cheeks.

But Hermione was anything but uninterested. He could have said that he taught pottery classes and she still would have found him fascinating. She brought out her timetable, squinting to it with scrutiny.

\"I\'m actually off to a biology class myself.\" she\'d said brightly, looking to him briefly before resting her eyes on the paper once more. Students pushed her roughly from time to time, all in a rush to get to their classes in the busy wing.

Before she\'d had time to go on with her sentence, she felt a strong hand on her shoulder, gently leading her away from the mass of students. When there was a bit more breathing room the hand was gently taken away, leaving Hermione blushing and trying to concentrate.

\"Uh, do you have any idea who Professor Enderby is?\" Hermione had gulped, figuring he may know him from the department. \"Perhaps she can help us....\"

The tall man had smiled softly at her, giving an almost apologetic grin to her as he spoke ever so softly.

\"I\'m Professor Enderby, actually.\"

Hermione had blushed furiously, feeling even the tips of her ears going a violent shade of crimson. \"Right.\"

\"Known as Simon to my friends.\" he added gently, offering a hand for Hermione to shake. It was at that moment a stern looking woman of about fifty had come up to Simon, stopping Hermione\'s hand midway in the air, as she brought it forcefully back down to her side.

\"Mr. Enderby.\" The woman sniffled, \"This way to your lecture hall.\"

Simon had flashed Hermione a surreptitious face of mock worry as Hermione smiled, following him to their mutual destination. When inside the hall, she found a seat near the front, giving Simon one last wave of thanks, assuming that their friendship was ended as he nodded back and made his way to his podium.

So, no one had been more surprised than Hermione when not even three weeks later he\'d mustered up the courage to ask her out. They\'d been outside the cafeteria, looking at the bustle of students and casually chatting when he\'d softly implored in she\'d care to have coffee with him. She\'d given him a broad smile and a nod, letting herself be guided to his car in the parking lot.

It was then that she knew.

He was coming up twenty-five, and the youngest Professor in the history of Wessex. He was brilliant, he was funny and he was kind. He had been the first -and only- man she ever slept with, the only man who she had ever felt comfortable around since the accident, and the only man she had ever loved so passionately.

Sadly he would know her only as Sandra Stapleton. Daughter of two Pamela and Richard Stapleton that had been killed in an automobile accident. No siblings, no past lovers, and no family aside from an Aunt Marge she saw on holidays. They hadn\'t talked of marriage, though Hermione blamed herself for that. She was always so secretive with her past, barely mentioning her parents whilst Simon told her everything.

Being a different person was crushing.

Their relationship was relatively low key, and practically secret. Not because they were ashamed, but more because it was looked down upon by the senior staff. Hermione didn\'t mind much, as she felt it was an exciting little thing they shared. More often than not they would get caught up in passionately kissing in the stacks of the expansive library, breaking apart only when they heard the chatter of students a bit away. She adored him.

And now sitting in his lecture hall, she felt the eyes of several students on her back, causing her to flush even deeper as Simon shot her an apologetic look. He knew she was brilliant, Hermione\'s mind raced, trying to remember what they had been discussing in class. Wasn\'t it cows? Cloning cows? She believed so.

\"Well.\" She said straightening her back, and trying to look deep in thought as she propped her pen up in her hand. \"I believe that the entire thing is ridiculous and completely unneeded. Not only that but it is unbelievably unlawful and I for one am completely opposed to it.\"

There was a sickening moment of silence in which Hermione acknowledged that perhaps they hadn\'t been discussing cloning cows minutes before. This thought was only further solidified as a female student next to her leaned over and whispered;

\"We were talking about finding different cures for Hemorrhagic Fever .\"

Hermione felt her eyes widening in embarrassed shock and let her eyes fall to the paper in front of her. There was another pregnant pause before she looked up to face Simon and whispered an offhanded;

\"Oh.\"

\"Class dismissed.\" Simon suddenly said with a pained smile on his face, gathering up his notes as Hermione slowly packed up her own.

Several peers shot Hermione looks of embarrassed pity as they passed her, whilst the rest of them gave her confused or angry looks that she shied from. Either way, she blamed Snape for all of this.

\"Bloody git.\" She muttered to herself, packing her belongings into her school bag as the lecture hall emptied out, leaving only she and Simon. She turned, wanting to apologize when she felt his arms around her, pulling her into a warm embrace.

\"What\'s wrong?\"

Hermione felt the tears starting at the back of her eyes, but not wanting to have to explain the root of their start, refused to disclose what was really happening. She gave him a fabricated story of how she had little sleep last night, due to a horrid nightmare as he stroked her hair gently.

\"So I\'m just tired.\" She finished lamely, giving him a soft kiss on the mouth. \"Just tired and hungry.\"

\"Well.\" Simon said with a small grin as he kissed her cheek, \"I can fix one of those malady\'s before my next class Miss Stapleton, if you would be so kind as to accompany me to my car?\"

Hermione smiled gently, nodding as she followed Simon to the parking lot, ignoring the pang in her stomach. She always wanted to hold Simon\'s hand in public, or have him grasp her around the shoulders or something. But they were supposed to be professional, they were a Professor and student.

Thankfully as soon as they were in the virtually empty parking lot, Simon grasped Hermione around the middle and dragged her mouth to his. Hermione felt her stomach dropping in the most delightful way as his lips caressed her own. When he pulled away gently he pulled her to him even tighter.

\"I\'ve missed you.\" he murmured softly into her hair, holding her to him tightly. Hermione let her cheek rest against his chest, wrapping her arms snugly around his waist and sighing in contentment. This was what she had been missing in the wizarding world.

\"I\'ve missed you too.\" She said softly, absently picking at a piece of fluff on his sweater, seeing as occasional droplets fell from the graying sky above, not that they minded. \"I\'m sorry I didn\'t come round last night. I had to help Professor Jennings.\"


\"Not a problem.\" he said kindly, pulling from her a moment to unlock the door to his silver car. \"I was rather tired myself...marking an extremely long essay by a certain overzealous student...\"

He trailed off, giving her a meaningful look of mirth as she grinned, giving him a shy shrug that she reserved for moments just like this. \"I couldn\'t help it. It\'s impossible to fit all that information into thirty measly pages.\"

Simon gave her a small, \"Mmmhmmm.\" which clearly showed he didn\'t believe her as she grinned. He opened her car door for her, moving to his side as the rain became coming down in heavier droplets.

Hermione always envied Simon\'s car, it\'s sleek exterior and leather-upholstered interior. It was nothing like hers, which she was humiliated to show him. He hadn\'t minded though, claiming that her car had character whilst his was an unimaginative piece of junk. He had that way about him.

She was just about to slide into the car seat when she felt a heavy hand come resting on her shoulder, startling her into a surprised yelp as a sinisterly low yet familiar voice invaded her eardrums.


\"Just where do you think you\'re going?\"